I may not have change for a $20, but I know of 20 things that are about to change

(9.3.09)

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

It's no secret that life in general is never -- ever -- going to be "in order."

Change however, is always going to be in constant order, and is even harder to shake than Aretha Franklin's catchy tune "Change, change, change."

OK people, I'm fully aware that these are not the actual lyrics to her song "Chain of Fools," but ironically, I changed the words way back when and couldn't resist getting them stuck in your head at such an appropriate time.

Robert C. Gallagher said it best when he proclaimed that "Change is inevitable -- except from a vending machine."

Right when you think that life or certain situations are going to start simmering down and falling into place, You find out that you're oh, so wrong.

That's when we're all visited by the complication fairy, who messes with our lives in a way so twisted it's dizzying. Haven't you noticed that as soon as you wash your sheets, the cat pukes on your bed, that birds do serious damage to a freshly washed car and dogs know just which shoes to chew? Or right when you feel like your business is booming and your problems are so close to being solved, the whole place burns down leaving you penniless and dumbfounded? Well, "Change, change, change"... because you have no choice.

Every single second, people are changing their clothes, minds, jobs, hobbies, locations, friends, diapers, spouses, and some even change their spouse's diapers. Some changes are welcomed and wanted while others are dreaded and devastating, but they are the common denominator among us all.

Whenever you ask someone "what's new with you?" and they say, "oh, not much," -- don't believe them. Something's changed but everyone's not always up for discussing their life, especially if it's as complicated as things can often get.

And just so you know, generally the good, bad, happy and sad changes collide and bombard our lives simultaneously as part of what I like to call, "The change gang."

You've heard people say "Can anything else go wrong?" Or, "If it isn't one thing, it's five more." I've often heard people say that after their lives have been switched, changed and rearranged.

Truth be told, we can certainly handle a whole lot more than we ever imagined possible, and have to find out the hard way. But it's proof that we are still alive and it's a daily dare not only to go with the flow, but to frolic in the flow. To make the best of the worst and to help anyone you can to do the very same.

There always will be unchecked items on your To Do list, and hopefully there always will be a tomorrow for you to pick up where you left off. Just make sure that you take a little time to notice where you are at any given moment, count your blessings and spend time with those who are important to you, before things get hectic again -- which they always tend to do.

And remember, just when life seems peachy and brag-worthy and all of your ducks seem to be waddling together in a perfect row, watch out! That's when the tide shifts, your peaches rot and your ducks start wandering off along with your sanity.

But fear not, change isn't always a horrendous hustler. It's a fickle and often friendly enemy that can pay you a visit after every emotion has been exhausted and your very existence has been challenged. That's because many people turn to their faith, families, friends and strangers after tragedy strikes.

Which could very well be the entire point of tragedy to begin with.

Many people are currently juggling house guests, bankruptcy, car problems, plumbing issues, family feuds, arrests and death ... So all of these "change, change, changes" are a big part of life. We live through these times, we change because of them, and then we keep on waiting to change some more.

To further inform Miss Informed, please e-mail trork@keysnews.com, and to catch up on previous ramblings, visit tracirork.blogspot.com.

Have you played with yourself lately? Happiness is in your hands!

By Traci Rork Paradise Staff

(8.13.09)

I just want everyone to take a moment to think about how much fun you have by yourselves. Now don't get all excited you creeps, nothing perverted is intended here.

Do you genuinely enjoy your own company? Do you laugh at your own jokes, dance when no one is looking and find yourself thoroughly entertaining? Well if you don't ... others won't, so start paying attention.

Quality time doesn't have to require a counterpart. In fact, I highly recommend alone time, which is not to be confused with loneliness.

In the past I've talked about remembering to send cards to your grandmas, being generous with your time and other necessary niceties that fill the karma bank and spread some sunshine. But now I think it's time we start investing in ourselves and taking good care of number one.

Some may say it's selfish to seclude yourself from the world and your loved ones, but I say it's selfish not to. If we're not happy with ourselves to begin with, what good are we to anyone else? It's time everyone starts to realize that your happiness depends on you -- not your circumstances.

For example, are you a total grump who could squeeze out a smile periodically but fights the urge just to maintain your snide image? Does everyone you encounter annoy you, seem inferior, and here only to complicate your life? Take a little break to envision rainbows and butterflies or cotton candy and French fries -- whatever makes you happy.

You can't fight a smile forever and you're not doing anyone any favors by being miserable. All around the world there are plenty of cynical, jaded and negative people lurking among us. Just last week I had the pleasure of encountering a few on our own island. To them I say, "You can blame the full moon but I blame you."

"Some pursue happiness -- others create it," someone smart once said and now I'm echoing that sentiment.

You choose to be happy, and you should start every morning by standing in front of a mirror. Quit waiting for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet, your mom to come over and do your laundry or a rich uncle to die and leave you everything. Instead, take a good, long look at yourself. Not your circumstances, but your self.

Guess what? You are someone's Prince Charming ... You are someone's doting mother ... You are someone's boss or mentor and you're "good enough, smart enough and doggone-it -- people like you!"

Now after repeating this Saturday Night Live mantra, flare your nostrils 10 times and try not to laugh. Do the Elvis lip curl and then try and switch sides. Pretty funny huh? Do the dishes in high heels, or clean your house with the music blaring and dance from room to room. Write in a journal and read it often and make your life sound as fabulous as you want it to be. Have fun ... Completely alone.

Key West locals are often lollygagging from birthday party to happy hour with a few barbecues thrown in between. Even during the slow days of summer, there are plenty of festivities to attend, as we happen to cohabitate on a party island of epic proportions.

But for the sake of the entire human race -- schedule a party of one on occasion and make sure you do a little inventory.

Happiness does not depend on what car you drive, how impressive your job is or what kind of family you're blessed/cursed with. Happiness is more of a decision, a state of mind that can affect the poor just as easily as it can avoid the rich.

Money doesn't buy happiness, love doesn't cure all, and dreams don't always come true. In fact, according to Aristotle, it's all quite simple, "Happiness belongs to the self-sufficient."

So, if you want to be happy -- start cheering yourself up! Make yourself the perfect cup of coffee, take yourself on an early morning stroll or flirt with yourself in the mirror while no one's looking. "How you doin'?"

Bottom line: Enjoy yourself -- and others will be tempted to do the same.

To further inform Miss Informed e-mail trork@ keysnews.com, and to catch up on previous ramblings, visit tracirork.blogspot.com.

I may have just broken the law but if I did, so did you ... and you

By Traci Rork Paradise Staff

(8.6.09)

Now before the cops start breaking down my door I should probably clarify a few things. I didn't rob a bank, beat anyone up or illegally trap lobster. Believe it or not, I was actually trying to make the world a better place by improving the planet's fiscal woes when I committed this questionable deed.

It just so happened that immediately after the alleged and purely innocent act, I couldn't help but gasp and google my way through the Internet to find out if I had indeed just broken the law and defaced a dollar bill.

For the record, I didn't scribble on George Washington's face or write "for a good time call ..." it was much more mature and necessary than that. You see, a while ago I stumbled upon a dollar bill that said "Anyone who receives this will be blessed with a lot of money."

Perfect! It was like an unexpected fortune cookie had just landed in my wallet telling me what I wanted and needed to hear. So I did what anyone else would do and tucked it away waiting for the magic to happen. Well, I'm still waiting, so when I stumbled upon my "lucky" buck the other day, I paid more attention to detail.

It also said, "write this on 10 other bills -- it works." I told myself, "hello -- no wonder you haven't been blessed in the bank yet ... You haven't fulfilled your end of the deal."

Now I know what you're thinking. Nice job idiot! We've all gotten threatening chain letters and e-mails that pester us into pestering 10 others so as not to disrupt our karma. We've ignored and erased them and lived to tell about it with no tragedies directly related to how we handled those pushy suggestions.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, so forgive me for wanting to spread a little hope and sunshine into a financially bleak world (and for selfishly yearning to somehow win the lottery without ever buying a ticket).

Times are tough, so much so, that I could only scrounge up two measly dollars to write the mantra on and possibly secure my fate and fortune. Go figure, and to top it off, had I just committed a felony punishable by up to six months in jail?

After extensive research I'm happy to inform you that I'm not currently a fugitive. Apparently, it's not illegal to write on your money per say ... you're just not supposed to mutilate, cut, glue together or burn your dough (according to title 18, section 333 of the United States Code). Basically, if you can still read and spend the money, you're pretty much OK.

Well that's a good thing for everyone who has stapled a dollar bill with their name on it at various bars and restaurants across the country. There are even a couple places in the Keys were you can find a dizzying array of cash that overlaps, dangles and sheds light on the people who once possessed -- and ultimately ended the ongoing journey of -- a dollar bill.

Money travels far and wide, housed in the pockets of plenty of people from all walks of life. The average life of a $1 bill in circulation is 21 months before it is replaced due to wear, according to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing. Think about how many places a dollar can go in nearly a year. How many people it can link together every second and the millions of possibilities of profound contradiction it provides daily.

How many church donation baskets are filled with money once used to gamble or buy drugs? And by the way, how many school lunches or cups of coffee are bought with dollars that were once tucked in a stripper's thong? The list goes on.

You see, passing these notes from person to person has become such a practiced part of our lives that we don't even pay much attention to what we hold in our hands. We don't really take the time to visualize all of the people who have also touched that same piece of paper and carried it through a part of their life.

If they could talk, those little, green, rectangular pieces of paper we see, touch and smell everyday -- would have quite the story to tell ... And some already do. I'm not trying to start a defacing movement here or anything, I'm just saying ... what a limitless way to send a message.

So, to ensure that your day won't be cloaked in chaos and tainted with tragedy, quickly distribute 10 $1 bills that say "Miss Informed is my favorite columnist and definitely deserves a raise."

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keys news.com and to catch some of her previous ramblings, go to tracirork.blogspot.com.

Time for a little drink-o-nomics -- Champagne taste on a beer budget

By Traci Rork Paradise Staff

(7.30.09)

How's it going my fellow penny pinchers? I'm assuming that for many, gone are the days of frivolous spending and carelessness with our cash. Everyone is starting to pay a lot more attention to what they make -- and just how much it takes -- to fund a fun night out with friends.

The results are scary, especially in this town, and the fact that the Green Parrot started taking credit cards certainly doesn't help the situation.

Don't get me wrong, just because many of us are now considered "ballers on a budget" doesn't mean that we can't partake in the parties. We just need to know how to balance our bucks without relying on luck.

Lately I've heard a lot of people saying that "staying in is the new going out." And while I'm pretty sure we happened to be out on the town when this was said, many people are honestly trying to tighten their purse strings, watch what they spend and make the most out of what they've got.

Every month it is important that we're able to afford the necessities (such as rent and electricity) and have a few dollars left over for one's wants and desires. In my case, that always seems to be champagne -- pink if possible -- and good company.

I know that many feel that this drink of choice should be reserved for special occasions such as weddings, engagements or graduations. But I don't like society deciding which occasions are special enough for the bubbly. In fact, I think that the pleasant sound of the cork popping and the fizz of a good pour are cause enough for celebration, but the list could go on and on ... Bubbles and bacon ... Pop a cork for Rork ... Champagne in the rain . . .

Now this could be an expensive habit if I wanted the priciest bubbles or fanciest of surroundings, but I'm happy with the reasonable bottles shared in the comfort of home with the closest of friends. The same goes for dinner parties. Sure we have many wonderful restaurants on every street corner and we should enjoy them all. But just because you're not going out on the town with a vengeance every single night doesn't mean you have to feel like you're missing out. In fact, sometimes when you're cutting corners you can find yourself right in the middle of something important.

Lucky for us, this town happens to offer quite a few social activities that require little funding and provide plenty of fun if you take the time to look for them.

My newest endeavor is joining the Southernmost Bocce League. Team Wish Bliss recently came to be and, so far, I must say that this game, which is kinda like outdoor bowling, is right up my alley! Our team of lovely ladies will be strutting our stuff on Monday nights and have some pretty high hopes. Granted, we've only gathered for a few practices where we whimsically tossed the balls back and forth while sipping white wine spritzers and swapping stories, but we're pretty good.

Plus, we've recruited a coach and have been trying to learn all of the rules so as not to jeopardize our privilege to be part of this highly competitive league. We also have some manly cheerleaders but could always use more, so come in support and BYO whatever -- it's so much cheaper than a bar tab.

As is attending a co-ed softball game, which I used to play a couple nights a week at Bayview Park. The players are terrific, the crowd is enthusiastic and time flies by as you socialize over a little exercise. It doesn't cost a lot to have beer in the dugout and hotdogs in the stands, but it sure means a lot to be a part of something and most importantly, it builds a great tradition.

There are book clubs, runners clubs, sailing clubs, dance lessons, church groups, swimming relays, movie memberships, AA meetings, meet and greets, golf tournaments, countless classes, seminars, lectures, and lessons to be learned on every block of every town, everywhere you go. You can gain experience, enlightenment and entertainment without spending a fortune and even better, you can win life's biggest lottery and find yourself rich in friends.

So bottom line, if you want to save your money -- give away your time. Become a part of something. Join a team. Volunteer. Gather your friends, drink some champagne and brainstorm about what you can do to change the routine and possibly create a whole new one. Tradition can start with you, and it can start today.

If you can pay your bills, you're not too broke to pay attention

(7.23.09)

Are you a happy camper? Let's just say, for the most part, is your existence relatively unscathed by the touch of tragedy and devastation? Now, we all have our problems and wish things could be better at times, but are you in a place in your life that could be much, much worse?

Good -- I'm genuinely happy that you're happy and now I have a little job for you. If you're happy and you know it -- help a friend.

First of all, it's your civic duty. Secondly, it's rewarding in more ways than one and finally, it's in the best interest of the greater good. We've all heard of random acts of kindness, right? While I'm sure all kinds of kindness are appreciated, I don't think our kindness needs to be necessarily random. In fact, I think it's pretty important that we handpick the objects of our affection because, well, it's plain and simple, some need it a little more than others.

Can't you think of at least one friend or relative whose happy flag is barely flying at half mast? Someone who doesn't complain but has a lot of ammunition if they ever wanted to start? Perhaps someone older who doesn't get out much and would beam for hours if you just picked up the phone to say hello?

Odds are that right now someone you can help is dealing with something horrible -- a health scare, a breakup, bankruptcy or death. Pay attention so that you avoid neglecting those who nurtured you, and make a conscious effort to make someone else's day.

Now, I'm not expecting you to change the world for everybody -- just change the day for somebody and then do it again tomorrow and the next day.

Currently, I'm doing my part by counseling quite a few ladies devastated by recent developments in the relationship department. How am I qualified for such a position you may ask? The answer is simple ... I was appointed. Much like alcoholics choose a sponsor, a couple of my friends who are going through breakups have chosen me as a crutch. That entails early morning coffee talks, late night wine chats, tears, advice, laughter and time -- the most important element.

I call it boot camp for break-ups and it seems to be working. Generally people complain about how there aren't enough hours in the day. That is of course not the case when you happen to be extremely sad and are trying not to call or think about a certain someone. Which is why it is extremely important to have a breakup buddy who's thick-skinned enough to not only listen to the same open-ended questions and wonderment of "what went wrong"? they're also there to answer with "he went wrong, that's what happened."

Then it's all about keeping those teetering on the edge of depression busy, happy and hydrated. What's the best way to cheer someone up and usually the first idea anyone suggests when they want to be of help? Cocktails and company! There's just nothing like slipping into something a little more comfortable and getting down to the core of the issue with friends. Then comes the laughter -- which is of course the best medicine.

Case in point. Everyone knows what beer goggles are, right? They are certainly not an accessory you want to be notorious for sporting and should be reserved for very few special occasions if any. The same goes for booze shoes -- a term that was coined the other night after an embarrassing footwear fiasco.

In her haste to hurry and help a friend, someone in the group, and I won't name any names, threw on two different shoes -- one red and one black -- and didn't even notice. Granted it was dark in her apartment, she was rushing around after a glass or three of wine, and the shoes she picked were somewhat similar.

OK, let's just say that I thought I was wearing my Kino sandals, but it turns out I was kickin' my Ki -- oh -- no's!

Thankfully, I got by with a little help from my friends, who kindly pointed out my tipsy toes before I'd paraded them all around town. We had a few good laughs and somehow I convinced everyone else to swap a shoe so we all looked equally idiotic -- good times.

All I'm saying is that it's fairly easy to pick up the phone, send a card or grab a cup of coffee and offer your time to someone. Take a moment to fill your karma banks, share your sunshine and graciously give when you're able, and receive when you're not.

Everyday your presence is a gift you are able to offer the world -- make sure you're only sharing yourself with worthy recipients.

You're so vain . . . you probably think this column's about you

(7.16.09)

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

Don't you? We all know a few people who are a little bit self-absorbed. In fact, the world seems to revolve around plenty of people who fail to see the forest for the trees because they're too busy looking at their own branches. The inability to empathize is a maddening condition that affects everyone on occasion and, sadly, is far from curable.

Pretty much if you are not a thoughtful, caring, reasonable and honest person some of the time, odds are you are an arrogant idiot most of the time and deserve a public lashing. Technically (and legally) we're not allowed to do that, which is a shame because I'd be the first to set up shop with a whipping post. Beating sense into the senseless would surely be a booming business but for now, verbal lashings will have to do.

Now I understand that it is somewhat normal to be a little bit self-absorbed and, admittedly, at times even I can be overly concerned with yours truly. After all, we have to be selfish now and then in order to care for ourselves and our families, but there is a huge difference between self-awareness and self-absorption, and I suggest everyone take a little time to note the difference.

For example, checking a colorful weekly publication thoroughly to see if any photos were published of yourself could be considered as being self-aware. On the other hand, creating a colorful weekly publication to ensure your photo will be published is a tad on the self-absorbed side. I'm just saying ...

When you are self-absorbed, most if not all of your conversations are regarding your accomplishments and you're often caught tooting your own horn. In fact, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if you even brag about being an awesome horn-tooter, the newest Prada bag and a black belt in tae kwon do. Generally, conversations rarely stray from topics you choose, and if they do, you shamelessly insert yourself back into the limelight right on cue. True?

Speaking of shame, some of the seriously selfish don't put a lot of time or energy into their appearance, manners or relationships. Why? Simply because they feel they don't have to. They're fantastic enough as it is and those in their presence should be honored they have the privilege. Please. You can often fool a few minions with your confidence, but when your true colors start to show, you ditch the non-believers and move on without a fight; "if you don't think I'm fabulous, someone else surely will," and on goes the cycle of the plagued people who will never learn.

What about the "one-uppers?" And I'm guessing we're all guilty of committing this faux pas once or twice. But seriously people, no one likes a show off, especially if you are a frequent offender. "Oh, your canoe trip sounds lovely, but I just got back from Tibet where I hung out with the Dalai Lama." If you religiously trump other people's stories to the point of being predictable, take notice ... because others definitely are.

And I think it's safe to say that we've all encountered plenty of individuals who haven't lost an argument in their entire life, or at least in their own huge heads. But let me tell you, just because you're righteous doesn't make you right and similarly, just because you have a few accomplishments under your belt doesn't make you accomplished.

I'll admit that I've gotten carried away while chatting about my joys and sorrows and failed to ask others about theirs. But I quickly take notice and remedy the situation and certainly try not to make a habit out of it. We have friends in order to share our triumphs, vent to when angry, and lean on when sad ... and we are expected to reciprocate. There doesn't need to be a running tally of who owes whom a favor, but if you're only calling your "friends" when you need someone to help you move, it's no secret and it's not very endearing.

Neither is constantly reminding anyone who will listen how amazing you are, what hobbies you enjoy and how you like your coffee. Bring a little more to the table. Inquire about what's going on in the lives of others and kindly pay attention to what you can offer the world and those around you.

There are those who have accumulated and, most importantly, nurtured their friendships over a lifetime, and those who juggle acquaintances when circumstances are pleasant or profitable for them. It's never too late to profit from being pleasant to people, because no matter how good you are at juggling, even you will drop the ball from time to time.

And for those of you who have "You're so vain" stuck in your head, you're welcome, and don't worry, I wasn't talking about you ...

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail Trork@ keysnews.com, and to catch up on previous ramblings, visit tracirork.blogspot.com.

We’re going to party like it’s 1999 or 2009 . . . Or simply because it’s Thursday!

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(7.9.09)

As we all know, parties just don’t make themselves. In fact, it’s the people that make the parties and I’ll be the first to admit that because of all of the parties going on in this town, it doesn’t take long for the people to get pooped.

There is a lot of careful planning and preparation that goes into hosting a shindig leading some to believe that it is best to be just a guest, which is still work by the way. However, on other occasions, nothing is better than being the guest of honor or the host with the most and showing off your ability to entertain.

Except for the clean up aspect, which can be like a crime scene investigation that’s full of interesting clues and embarrassing realizations. Did someone really try and make a bloody Mary with Heinz ketchup? And seriously, who thought it would be fun to make mustard ice cubes?

Anyhow, for those of us who call the Southernmost island our home, there are plenty of opportunities to partake in a party or 30 a night, which can be both a blessing and a curse.

The social Mecca that is Key West is so jam packed with events that if you wanted to, you could celebrate something new every day and pretty much live party to party without ever having to grocery shop.

The hustle and bustle of every day chores are often woven into the obligatory chore of making it to a Christmas party, Fantasy Fest, wine tasting, birthday, art show or picnic. Not too mention the beach gatherings, dinner parties, reunions and weddings we’re expected to attend. When you are a friend to many, it means that your “spare” time becomes “their” time, but for the most part you’ll wind up having a good time, so we really shouldn’t complain. (Unless I’m in desperate need of some Traci time after going weeks without sitting on my couch watching the Comcastic cable I pay so much for).

While there are events and parties every day in every town, I must commend the community in the Keys for the ability to both plan and execute fantastic fiestas for all ages. Eventhough very few of us tend to grow up.

Case in point: I remember my mom asking me what I wanted for my 25th birthday and knowing immediately that I was in desperate need of a Slip N Slide if I was indeed going to be hosting a Slip N Slide party.

She couldn’t resist the urge to point out that a few of her friends were helping their daughters my age pick out wedding dresses, while she was hunting for a plastic toy for ages 4 and up. Nonetheless, she came through in the clutch, as did someone else so we had not one but TWO Slip N Slides to skid across, providing fun and pain that lasted for days.

There has also been a blow up bouncy castle birthday party, golf scrambles, pool parties, boat days, sleepovers, bachelorette parties . . . . Plus I have a sneaking suspicion that there will be more to come draining us all of our time, energy and funds.

So, due to limited funds and unlimited festivities, it’s safe to say that if I show up at your party empty handed, it means that I consider my presence to be your present! And rest assured that when my day of birth rolls around in late September, you’re welcome to do the same - show up and smile!

In the meantime, here’s a little present for everyone that is free, fabulous and already provided me with endless hours of entertainment . . . The Web site: textsfromlastnight.com.

A good party always provides a few lasting memories and while you may not remember much . . . Someone else will. So here is a preview of a few of the random, drunk texts people have received and shared on that Web site for our viewing pleasure . . . Enjoy!

“Rough night. sneezed a watermelon seed this morning and apparently I drunk dialed my boss for a ride home. Twice.”

“I want tt clbm rinabw nd ride uncrn”
“What?”
“I wnt tto climb a rainboww and ride a unicornnnnnnnnn”

“Cops are here now. U need to come back. Ur not under arrest. But u need to apologize to the woman for what you did to her cat.”

“I woke up this morning to the buzzer on my oven going off... I cooked fish sticks at 425 degrees for 5 hours last night. my house smells awesome”

“Got weed?”
“I'm really tired of you accidentally texting me when your doing illegal things. I'm taking away your phone.”
“Sorry mom. . . “

To further Inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keysnews.com and to catch up on past ramblings, go to tracirork.blogspot.com.

These are the Days of our Lives . . . make em good!

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(7.2.09)

"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives” ~ Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

Why is it that most people only start paying attention to their money when they start running out of it? And I’ll also be the first to say, that also seems to be the case when people start running out of time.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve used this very space to advocate the art of procrastination and believe a little is necessary for one‘s own sanity, but I also wonder if at times it has gotten a little too out of hand?

Are we a generation so plagued by procrastination that we float through life waiting for random things to fall from space instead of actively orchestrating what’s taking place? Have we gotten a little too comfortable on island time and realized that time has gotten away from us?

If that is the case, I’m going to say that right now, more than ever, it is the perfect time to seize the day instead of merely waiting for things to go your way. Let’s face it people, we’re not getting any younger and “A year from now you will wish you had started today,” - said Karen Lamb.

Whether that’s about saving money, exercising, going back to school, or whatever the case may be, get the ball rolling because:

1.) The economy is in the toilet so we should be getting extremely motivated about making more money and spending way less, and 2.) People, both real and famous, have been dropping like flies lately so it wouldn’t be a bad time to throw a little Carpe Diem into the mix before our own time runs out.

"Seize the day and place no trust in tomorrow", goes the ode, warning that the future is unknowable, and that all we are promised is the gift of the present. As well as the gift of other people’s presence in our present, if that makes sense. Parents, grandparents, friends, co-workers, pets and acquaintances share life’s stage with us for a limited time only and we should be grateful for all they contribute, and even say so on occasion.

So yes, this little mind game of carpe diem is to ensure that you have the most amazing life by tricking/motivating yourself into believing every day could be your last. How uplifting. But when you think about the uncertainty of every single thing we encounter, life in general should be lived with a little more edge because you just never know which way things could go.

You should start as many projects as possible, read whatever you can get your hands on, talk to as many people as you can stand and get as much done as your energy will allow.

Am I suggesting that we all be a little more polite, responsible, active and patient in our daily endeavors? Well mostly, but how in the hell are you supposed to be patient when it could be your last day on earth? Seriously?

While I definitely think that we should take more time to savor the small things and put a little more planning into the bigger things, I also think we need to exist with just a little more enthusiasm altogether. Be real about whatever it is that you feel, and be proud of your accomplishments, both completed and those to come.

Now if I died tomorrow, would I be completely satisfied and thrilled with this last column? Not exactly. Let’s just say that I know this is no Pulitzer Prize winner, but at least I finished it. And truth be told, if even one person decided to seize the day with a little more conviction than they used yesterday, I’d be pretty happy. It’s easy to get comfortable in general, but sometimes you have to work at getting comfortable with yourself.

So, as William James smartly said “To change one's life: Start immediately. Do it flamboyantly. No exceptions.”

Now if you decide that your last day on earth is still going to be spent with a few moments of procrastination sprinkled in, allow me to offer you at least one suggestion: Awkwardfamilyphotos.com.

This Web site that is guaranteed to make you laugh, appreciate your family no matter how weird they are, and waste just a little bit of time in your day before you get to seizing it.

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keysnews.com

Island fever ~ the call it sister season for a reason!

Miss Informed
By Traci Rork

(6.25.09)

On this island, you can’t escape the ex-factor. Everyone you know at one time or another dated someone else you known and there are tangled webs everywhere you look. Even more so in the summer.

Admit it. Everyone has an ex who dated someone they know or disapprove of. Sometimes unfortunately, this occurs while they are still dating you, and this often goes down in the summer. Whether it is a best friend, acquaintance, co-worker or sister - It seems that people in this town change partners more than square dancers, and everyone gets caught in the chaos at some point in time. So be grateful if this isn’t your year in the sordid spotlight, but be prepared to help someone who is - it is June after all, and July generally isn’t any better.

Think about it. Those of us who have lived in Key West for awhile can attest to the fact that this island is incredibly small. Everyone’s business quickly becomes everyone else’s business - and even more so in the summer. That’s when the Africa heat along with the constant threat of hurricanes keep the tourists at bay.

While there might be thousands of eligible bachelors/bachelorettes out there who don’t come with obvious baggage, plenty of people are going to do what they want to do regardless of the fallout, or any warnings they’ve been offered. They choose the spotlight.

This predictable phenomenon is nothing new (here or anywhere else in the world) and has been referred to as the “sister season” by many old-timers. This is a sultry season where conflicts of interest arise, summertime scandals come alive and friendships often falter because of inappropriate liaisons - sometimes even between sister. Now don’t get me wrong, the trauma of drama rears its’ ugly head year round in plenty of relationships - but I must say that summertime is just a little bit hotter in the tropics.

As we speak, porches around town are overflowing with cocktails and conversation about the budding romances and questionable relationships that are taking place, some way more drastic than others. Right now, plenty of people are discussing what’s politically correct, what’s socially acceptable, and ultimately who is in the wrong…for now. Before you start writing in to say you’re better than that and have more important things to talk about…congratulations….you’re probably a liar and have very boring dinner parties.

Now Key West is a lot like high school, only more equivalent to a college campus both in size and population. After a few years on the island, things start to get a little too familiar. Assuming you’re paying attention, which you’re pretty much forced to do, you can quickly find six degrees of separation (or usually less) between anyone and easily connect the dots between just about everyone you know. Gross!

Just like the tabloids where they list every flame Hollywood stars have dated since the beginning of time. They live in a fishbowl and everyone is kept up to date with their current situations, as well as past endeavors, much like the Key West community. It doesn’t take much to be instantly briefed on the relationship rundown of anyone on the island . . . Just ask. Someone will immediately catch you up - whether they know what they’re talking about or not.

As the Conch Crawls….and as time goes by, the old scandals become disposable as the new ones quickly start taking their place. It’s amazing how interested and involved a community can become and how very necessary friends can be, when one is faced with adversary.

Sometimes it’s harder to get rid of the wrong one than it is to find the right one. I can’t tell you how many deserving, amazing and intelligent women have been stuck with a schmuck for WAY too long. That is until “Dump the Chump” support groups are resurrected and the troops swoop in with champagne to help with the healing. It often takes a village to get rid of the idiot.

We’ve all rolled our eyes when a predictable friend gives the “I’m never talking to him again, this time it’s so over,” speech. Only to find her walking hand in hand days later with Shady McShaderson after hours of careful evaluation proved that he has no redeeming qualities and somewhat of a lisp. . . Help her!

There are a million different Web sites such as E Harmony and Match.com which are designed to put together a compatible couple and give them a happily ever after. Too bad there are probably more people in the world dealing with breakups instead, which coincidentally require just as much of a commitment (if not more) than the relationship themselves. But until someone invents break-up boot camp and dating for dummies, we’re stuck listening to the advise of friends who love us . . . And go figure . . . some even have firsthand knowledge on the subject.

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keysnews.com.

You made your bed . . . Now sleep in it . . . Or at least try!

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(6.18.09)

Clean sheets, fluffed pillows, a slight breeze and silence.

I’ll be the first to admit that there’s nothing better than preparing for and executing a luxurious night of restful slumber.

“There is only one thing people like that is good for them; a good night’s sleep” - Edgar Watson Howe said.

Not a lackadaisical lounge on the couch or a cat-nap with the radio on, but the well-planned and uninterrupted hibernation that we all need and deserve. (Provided our crazy dreams don’t get in the way).

So why is it that for some reason, there are a million things in the world that disrupt this privilege? Snoring, roosters, upstairs neighbors playing high heeled relays, trash men, and that’s just to name a few. Oh how annoying each one is individually, and collectively, they could push a sane person over the edge.

The worst would have to be snoring. The loud, annoying proof that someone within earshot is obviously asleep. Women have resorted to holding their husband’s noses shut, making them wear mouth guards or driving a good old fashioned knee to the back - whatever works. But generally the window of quiet opportunity closes quickly, so hurry and doze off before the roosters start.

And even more annoying than a rooster crowing, is a rooster who sucks at crowing. That’s what I like to call a “cock-a-doodle-don’t”. Let’s just say that not everybody should be allowed to welcome the rising sun, but that doesn’t stop the garbage men does it? While I appreciate their service greatly, why was it decided that 5 a.m. was the most opportune time to shake huge metal bins filled with thousands of glass bottles up and down the street? I’m sure there’s a logical reason, I just find it a bit inconvenient, that’s all.

Now every once and awhile, we all have to take the blame for psyching ourselves out to the point of alertness, thus sabotaging our chance at a sleeping oasis.

Either you’re leaving on trip the next day, you have a big test or a job interview, whatever the case, nights prior to these events are often sleepless. You’re too excited. You can’t stop running through your mental ‘to do’ list and keep checking the clock and doing the math to see how many hours of sleep you’ll get if you fell asleep right now! Forget about it - our active minds ruin any chance of sleep for our tired bodies and we’re left helpless.

It seems that when we need sleep the most, that’s when we’re unable to grasp any because the pressure is on. And then of course, when the pressure is on and we’re required to tackle other necessary obligations, we’re extremely exhausted and can barely keep our eyes open. It’s a double edged sword - can’t sleep when you’re supposed to, can’t help sleeping when you’re not.

And don’t you just love it when you finally fall asleep but you spend the entire night slinking through dark, musty alleys hiding from ninjas that want your sword, which turns into a butter knife before flying away as a butterfly? Yeah - crazy, random, intense dreams that drain your strength, waste your energy, and make you question your mental health - especially if you dare to share them out loud.

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this, but no matter how excited you are to tell someone about a dream you had about them, they’ll never care half as much as you do about it. Sure, they may be flattered that you thought of them in a subconscious state, but it always comes out sounding like a crazy acid trip braided with reality that unravels the second you start re-telling it. So keep a dream journal if you wish, but don’t necessarily feel compelled to keep everyone posted when they have a cameo in one of your demented dreams. “You were you, but then you turned into LC from the Hills and I was mad at you because you slept with Sam who was staying with me in Vegas, but I think it was California because there was a beach with a water slide and ….”. You’ve lost me. . . Just stop.

Now Lucid Dreaming is an interesting topic I learned about in a psychology class and studied profusely. However I failed miserably at actually becoming the puppeteer of my own imagination. It’s just not an easy feat to lasso our minds and force places and faces to make sense. That’s just not the way it works. You wait all day to go to sleep and then gamble with the subject matter every night.…sometimes resting can be exhausting.

So relish the times you‘re able to clutch on to 8 hours of restful slumber, and if you want to be a good tourist and help a local sleep… take a rooster home with you.

To further inform Miss Informed, please e-mail trork@keysnews.com.

I’m not going to name names…but I saw you doing the walk of shame

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(6.11.09)

On occasion and for several different reasons, people sometimes fail to make it home at night. Late parties with friends, the unexpected love connection and alcohol are all often to blame for a little phenomenon we know as the walk of shame.

Whether it's a walk, more of a jog or even a scooter ride, spotting someone on the walk of shame in this town is like playing a 3-D version of Where's Waldo. It could actually be a sport. Smeared make-up, crazy bed head and an ensemble not intended for breakfast are dead giveaways that someone didn't quite make it home the night before. More than once, I've seen barefoot girls in their party clothes squinting at the sun and looking up and down Duval Street, trying to remember where their hotel is. Now, the island is only 4 by 2 miles wide, but that sure seems big when people are trying to wander back to where they belong (usually without sunglasses, in some sort of hung over pain and harboring feelings of remorse).

Just on a quick, early morning bike ride for coffee, one can stumble across several people sneaking through the streets trying to get out of their limbo: somewhere between saying goodbye to the night and hello to the morning. One can hope and pray that the morning is the only thing you'll have to greet but in this town that's unlikely so be prepared to die of embarrassment. The path from where you are to where you need to be can seem daunting but gather your belongings, suck it up and get it over with.

People often go on these early morning parades surrounded by the smell of alcohol and cigarettes, wearing the familiar fashions of the evening before, or sporting an oversized shacker shirt that the fellas never ever get back. Sometimes shamers are spotted holding their high heels as they meander home to the sound of the roosters. And on other occasions, they're empty handed as it seems they lost their shoes, along with their purse, cell phones and dignity. This happens on college campuses daily and quite possibly on an hourly basis in Key West, so keep your eyes peeled.

The scooter shamers go by fast but are the best to spot because they offer the most info. You not only get to see "Mary Jane" being driven home early in the morning, but you also get to see who she's clinging to.

And how very nice of the guys who assist the ladies in getting home, but pay attention to the route they choose in doing so. Did they proudly cart you down White Street or were back roads chosen as a means to avoid witnesses? I'm just saying...

Sometimes this dreaded phenomenon takes place after Halloween or Fantasy Fest when costumes come into play. That's when things get really interesting. And just so you know, it's impossible to make it from point A to point B under the radar when you're dressed like Spongebob Squarepants. As far as the spectators go, these are the most rewarding walks to witness or even assist with, as I had the pleasure of doing in college after a Pimps and Ho's fraternity party.

The phone call went something like this at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning. "Dude, you so have to come pick me up at the Sigma Chi house -- there is no way I'm walking through the quad in a mini skirt and knee-high boots ... please ... I'll love you forever," my friend Jenny whispered into the phone so as not to wake any of our fratastic friends. Of course I showed up to her rescue and while she appreciated having someone to share the shame with over some laughs, she didn't appreciate me honking the horn while I was out front. It couldn't be helped.

Anyhow, the phrase "walk of shame" is defined as "a phenomenon in which a person must walk past strangers or peers alone for an embarrassing reason before reaching a place of privacy."

Since it's a common situation that many face over time, some crafty creators are marketing "Walk of Shame Kits" with proceeds going to benefit Breast Cancer Foundations. The backpack includes a rolled up dress, flip flops, sunglasses, a pre-pasted toothbrush, wipes, call/don't call leave-behind note cards, and a breast cancer awareness bracelet. Seriously? Who is going to set out for a night on the town with a slut bag strapped to their back?

So now that we've talked about the walk, I propose we all play a little game called the "Walk of Shame Hall of Fame" and start comparing stories.

To further inform Miss Informed e-mail trork@ keysnews.com.

Nice can only get you so far . . . Spice can take you the rest of the way.

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(6.4.09)

According to the movie Bambi and skunk named Thumper, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

(Cue the cricket sounds).

Too bad if we all followed that advice, we’d be living in a pretty silent world and Miss Informed’s column would end right here. That is not because we are mean-spirited people, but rather because it’s unavoidable and healthy to let your feelings out and purge yourself from frustration whenever possible.

A few people in history have also used the phrase, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me!” I certainly appreciate this quote better and have found it far more fitting and realistic.

There are generally two types of emotions that prompt a person to go off on a tangent: Anger and happiness. Think about it, every day when you interact with people they’re either polite and short - offering normal and generic greetings… or they can’t tell you enough about their upcoming wedding/divorce. We are more likely to share our feelings and situations with others when they reach the extreme ends of the spectrum. The most entertaining stories include the best of times or the worst of times. and truth be told, I personally think that the worst of times holds an audience better.

In the past, when I’ve used this space as a venting vault, the words seemed to fly onto the page as I effortlessly reached the desired word count before I felt like I’d even made a dent in the topic. Go figure. Thoughts just flow like a stream when you’re blowing off steam…

Case in point: The Citizen’s Voice. A voicemail box where one can vent anonymously and as often and freely as they’d like. And trust me, there’s never been a shortage of material for that column and editors never have a problem filling that space. Be it the roosters or people failing to pick up their dog’s crap, when we are pissed is when we’re most likely to speak up.

It’s just so easy to go on and on about a bad day where you stepped in gum, your bike got stolen and you found out that Damn Good Foods was going to be closed for a bit. Wa wa wa … we are surrounded by Debbie Downers daily and eventually, we all morph into her on occasion. I’m here to tell you - that’s okay.

I saw a bumper stick once that said “Women don’t burp, fart or poop, therefore they must bitch or they’d explode.”

Our complaints, and those coming from the men as well, are expected and welcomed by others who likely have a few things they’d like to get off their chest. It usually isn’t hard to find a companion to scratch an itch with, especially in this town where like-minded people are generally miffed about the same topics.

On the other hand, I’m a Libra, which means I would love nothing more than to appease everyone and keep everything on an even keel. While of course this is an unrealistic goal, it is even more far-fetched now that my aptly named column “Miss Informed” debuted and I’ve been allowed to ramble on about whatever.

Every week it’s guaranteed that I will prompt a reader to become a writer and make me fully aware of my Miss Takes and Miss Prints. Thankfully, for my sanity and entertainment, plenty of people write in to agree with me and tell their own stories, which are extremely appreciated and often hilarious.

In a small town such as Key West, it is important that we try our best not to step on anyone’s toes and avoid weaving any tangled webs. However, it is also important that we exercise our sense of humor and offer our opinions, whatever they may be . . . and I’m not going to lie, I’ve found that if you’re not Miss Behaving too badly, you can get away with some Miss Chief every once and awhile.

“A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort,” - Herm Albright.

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keysnews.com.

Editor’s note: The resort mentioned in last week’s column does offer locals VIP treatment and access to the pools and spas if they purchase an exclusive lifetime membership. There is a one time initiation fee of $5,500 with a monthly rate of $250. From July 5 through September, all interested locals and a friend are invited to come in for a free day pass and legitimately take advantage of the hotel’s amenities. For more information, call 305.293.6201 or email thebeachclub@luxuryresorts.com.

Damn it feels good to be a local!

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(5.28.09)

I plan on using this space for good and not evil. To offer insightful outlooks, wonderment and curious observations...a nd most of the time I will. But on other occasions, someone or
something in this town infuriates me and I’m tempted to publicly vent.
Currently ~ I am still peeved…so bare with me for just a moment as I vent for just a bit.

I won’t name any names, but a security guard at a large hotel that rhymes with Nasa Arena asked that I leave the pool with my friends because we were not guests.
There were three of us. We all bought drinks, tipped well and were nursing hangovers thus far from rowdy.

However after an hour or so, we were told that we were no longer welcome. What! I was
tempted to start name dropping people I knew who worked at the resort and inform the guard that two out of the three of us used to work there as well. But I simply grabbed our stuff and left in a huff without argument and wondered what these people were thinking.

It's officially summer guys - where’s your local spirit?

Two days earlier at the same stunning establishment, three of us received the exact opposite treatment. We were soaking in the rays and sipping deliciously frozen cocktails awarded to us by the friendly bartender . . . and given a local discount. We tipped well, took care of Bob the towel guy and had a splendid day by the pool. Plus, there were still ample spots available for hotel guests so we weren’t cramping anyone else’s style either. It was perfect.

The next trip…not so much. As I mentioned, it’s summer, so all of the Key West establishments are going to need the locals to keep the ball rolling during the slow season. And trust me, word travels fast when our pride is sequestered.

Now that the island has reached African temperatures, we all sport glistening faces, rosy cheeks and slightly damp attire. We work too much and too often so when it comes
to our days off, we treat ourselves - and rightly so. We are pool, boat or beach bound. We realize that submerging oneself in water is one of two ways to squelch the flames within, and holing up inside with the AC blaring and the blinds drawn is not exactly the most social option.

From personal experience, I know that there are a plethora of pools, restaurants, resorts and shops around town that not only welcome the loyal locals, they also reward them with discounts and special treatment. Terms of endearment intended to pamper the people who live, work and play here. Plus, we also have frequent visitors and are often asked by random people the best of the best in Key West. And let's be honest, we are not shy about dishing out our likes, dislikes and sheer hatred for certain establishments.

For the most part, all of my friends are in, or used to be in, the service industry, including yours truly. We know the drill - the long, fast, furious days/nights dealing with less than stellar, stereotypical tourists who sometimes ask questions unworthy of a response. But we have to answer and respond nicely nonetheless, because they pay our bills. But when a local arrives, they generally toss a heftier tip and give servers little if any grief.

Locals understand the daily grind and are generous because of it. They should not only be welcome, but I believe we should all be VIP.

On the other hand, I do understand that the guests at our hotels are paying a pretty penny to enjoy uninterupted use of their pools and beaches. But, I also understand that at this day in age and due to our country’s financial woes, many resorts are no where near capacity and could actually use a little extra business…who couldn’t?

I should also mention that there are many hotels in town that do offer local discounts at their spas and bars and that is how their acquire repeat customers and good street credit from the locals.

Locals: The people who live in a vacation destination but are constantly chased by nagging responsibilities. So I must say that it is lovely to be able to lose them all for a bit and drift away in thought and calmness at various places in paradise where we are welcome. If you work some place where locals are loved, let me know so perhaps next week I can inform my avid readers where they can go to receive the VIP treatment we all deserve.

And as I said before, I would rather use this column to promote kindness and not hang people out to dry when they ruffle my feathers. But just so you know, I have the
space . . . so remember this face! And be afraid . . . be very afraid . . . because if Miss Informed becomes Miss Treated, that could certainly be a big Miss Take!

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keysnews.com

I was going to be a procrastinator….but decided it could wait ‘til later

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(5.21.09)

Last week I focused on seizing the day, which is something I wholeheartedly recommend doing . . . on occasion. But on other occasions, I think that it is perfectly acceptable and completely normal for one to do the exact opposite . . . Procrastinate.

The magnetic force that seizes your soul and drags your mind towards everything but the task at hand. Like when you’re supposed to be conducting a routine cleaning but somehow find yourself drawn to the junk drawer, meticulously sifting through stuff as if you’re mining for gold. Or when you’re supposed to be packing for a trip you end up trying on all of your clothes and cleaning out your closet until 3 a.m. It is the act of putting off, delaying or defering an action to a later time . . . It’s a nervous habit we exhibit when it’s time to get things accomplished and it is territory. . . Procrasti-nation.

This is a nation to which we all belong, so don’t even try and deny your citizenship. Think about it, even simple tasks like making a ‘to do’ lists are actually distractions from immediately starting or finishing a project. It’s unavoidable, especially considering the plethora of distractions available at our fingertips. In fact, I bet that while you’re reading this column there are a few chores or errands you’re momentarily postponing or avoiding. Don’t feel guilty, we all need to take a few mental vacations throughout the day, just don’t forget to check back in eventually.

Whether it’s looking up recipes, celebrity gossip, blogs, horoscopes, current events, videos, music or spending time in the devil’s playground (myspace, Facebook, or Twitter), be careful. These avenues are all time consuming ways to ensure that you get very little accomplished. I should know. I can’t even begin sit down and allow this column to present itself until I’ve wasted time and energy online….mostly on Facebook. It’s poison and it gives you a front row seat to everyone else’s lives while you take a break from yours.

Before I know it, I’m completely invested in birthday photos of a 2-year-old I’ve never met belonging to someone I may or may not have gone to high school with. Or I’ve spent way too much time skimming through photos of other people’s vacations or weddings or quizzes that determine what type of shoe they would be if they were indeed a shoe. I find myself hypnotized by the status updates that change constantly and keep one fully aware of who has an ear ache, who’s needs a coffee, a nap, a boyfriend, who hates Mondays and what everyone is doing for dinner. Sometimes they are funny and entertaining, but often this is just mindless and useless information that we absorb instead of focusing on other obligations of much more importance.

Like checking your horoscope, both in the paper and online, to see what kind of day it’s going to be for a Libra, or the rest of you folks. On a few occasions, mine has even promoted procrastination, suggesting I enjoy a nature walk or take a nap before tackling any duties . . . and who am I to argue with the stars?

That is until the panic sets in and I’m flirting with a deadline that needs to be met. In college, I actually turned in a final project for my video production class entitled “Sex can wait, don’t procrastinate”. It was a public service announcement about the dangers of waiting until the last minute to study. And . . .coincidentally it was filmed, edited and turned in at the last minute. I told the professor I wanted to end the semester with a bang and actually got one of the best grades in the class. Go figure. But sometimes we do our best work under pressure. You know, the whole ~ game’s tied, bases are loaded, two outs and you’re up to bat scenario.

But I’m honestly trying to make sure this doesn’t become a horrible habit.

At least this time while facebooking and delaying my column I can honestly say that I was conducting research…

To further inform Miss Informed, please e-mail trork@keysnews.com.

I took the plunge and you might as well, the world could end in 2012

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(5.14.09)

So last week on my boyfriend’s birthday, we did something crazy. Something that I’ve always wanted to experience and an event that I will cherish for the rest of my life ~ we went skydiving!

It was beautiful, exhilarating, epic and spiritual, and something that I am proud I had the nerve to accomplish. But if I hadn’t been advised to keep this impending adventure a secret from my mother and my logical friends, the outcome could have been much different as they would have talked me out of it immediately. And I must say that delivering the news after it had already successfully happened was much more rewarding for all parties involved.

Now a couple days after throwing myself out of a plane, the parents arrived in Key West to celebrate my mother’s birthday, which was closely followed by Mother‘s Day. They made the trek from Kansas to the tropics to visit their responsible daughter on her faraway island. Everyone generally curses the place I call home because no one ever makes it here for a visit unscathed. They always seem to have setbacks due to canceled flights or lost luggage, and this trip was no exception. So, after a strenuous day of mechanical problems and rerouted planes, they finally plopped down on the couch in my air-conditioned apartment and had a moment to relax. That is until I informed them that I had recently jumped out of a plane at 10,000 feet and wanted to show them the DVD. Oh joy.

Needless to say, mom was less than thrilled to watch a video of her little girl dangling out of a tiny plane before leaping into the sky, high above the clouds with her life in the hands of a South African named Brutus strapped to her back. My dad on the other hand, was more supportive of yet another one of my crazy adventures, which has always been the case when compared to my rational mother.

As she paced around with her blood pressure rising, I had to remind her that the deed is done and I’m still alive ~ happy birthday! She’s been through a lot over the years so she is sort of getting used to my brother and I dropping bombs like these out of the blue. (You know, kind of like the ‘Hey, I’m selling my car and moving to Key West” incident).

She barely even rolled her eyes after my brother Colin graduated college with a psychology degree and said he was either going to become Britney Spears’ bodyguard or enroll in stunt man school in Australia (which of course dad thought were both reasonable career paths). To further comfort mom, Colin said that nothing we do now is going to matter anyway because we’re all going to die in 2012. (Perhaps he has a future in motivational speaking).

Anyhow, this apocalyptic theory was discussed in one of his philosophy classes and ever since he mentioned it, I’ve heard the subject pondered everywhere from dinner parties to the History Channel. According to the doomsday predictions of many, the Mayan calendar stops on what will be Dec. 23, 2012, and the world as we know it will come to an end. Lovely. I bet the skydiving business will be booming that year!

But all joking aside, scientists and scholars say there may be a shift in the galactic alignment, the earth could be annihilated by another planet, and we only have three more years to pack in a lifetime of living . . . Or this could be crazy speculation similar to that surrounding the Y2K panic and life will indeed go on.

Regardless, it’s worth contemplating. Think about it, how different would your Monday be if you knew you were going to die on Tuesday? I doubt laundry would be at the top of the “to do” list as you re-evaluate your priorities. If you know your time is limited, you make the most of your experiences, your relationships, your life in general, and you don’t sweat the small stuff.

It reminds me of a country song about skydiving, Rocky Mountain climbing and riding a bull named Fu Man Chu. Tim McGraw sings about a dying man who hopes that everyone gets the chance to live like they were dying. It’s about seizing the day, treating each moment as a gift and cherishing those you love. So I jumped out of a plane two miles above the ground and floated above the clouds with the man I love (no, not Brutus). And I suggest that everyone else should also throw a little adventure into the mundane whenever the chance presents itself.

So just in case the Mayan’s are on to something, I advise that everyone to go left on occasion instead of going right, that you accept invitations you would rather deny and to just shake life up in general for your own sake. As the saying goes, “If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up to much space,“

But please don’t go off the deep end, become selfish and forgo all other responsibilities while you go mountain climbing or bull riding. Just don’t put your wants or desires on a back burner either…that’s all.

It’s our responsibility to carve out the lives we want for ourselves. We hand pick activities to fill the moments that become our existence . . . and we can be as creative or as boring as we want. So what have you done lately that you’ve been dying to do (no pun intended)? And what in the world should we plan for Dec. 22, 2012? I‘m thinking about throwing a “live like you are dyin’ but hopefully the Mayans are lyin,” party!? Let me know if you’re interested!

To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@keysnews.com.

Have you met my friends, Miss Guided, Miss Led, Miss Understood and Miss Taken?

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(5.7.09)

I’m sure we can all recall moments in our lives where we’ve been steered into confusion and looked like idiots. Perhaps we misunderstood or misconstrued someone’s directions, or we took bad advice and were misled by another idiot. Then there are times when stress or sleep depravation leads one to absent mindedly put the cereal box in the fridge and the milk carton in the cabinet. Whatever the case, we’ve all felt like a head case at some point in time.

I will be the first to admit when I’ve pulled a “Traci”, and I love the fact that plenty of my friends rush to inform me after they’ve pulled one as well.

Generally these moments and mix ups are sandwiched between sane and productive times, so no need to have any of us committed as of now.

Have you ever hurried to get a Blockbuster movie back on time only to learn you had returned an empty box? They call AND write you a letter informing you of your stupidity, by the way.

Did you know that there is a huge difference between evaporated and condensed milk? While attempting a turkey casserole, I created a sweet, meaty mess we named Dessurkey, and promptly tossed after taking one horrific bite.

I may be alone on this next one, but has anyone else gotten confused while trying to pay their Comcast bill on Kennedy Ave.? I accidentally dropped my check in the trash can next to the payment slot and walked away. This error was not discovered until the following month when I went to pay the overdue bill and almost did the same thing again! I walked right up to the trash can and opened the slot before I spotted the payment slot on the wall and had an “Aha moment!

These events are to be remembered and used for enlightening purposes throughout our lives. As a first grader, I was supposed to “put a ring” around various animals and objects on a piece of paper for a homework assignment. Seriously, how hard could this be?

I’ll never forget how puzzled I was after learning I had gotten it all wrong. I turned in my assignment with the satisfaction of a job well done and was shocked when the teacher asked why I had turned in a blank piece of paper. What? Are you kidding me?

“It’s not blank,” I said in amazement as I looked at the assignment I was both proud and protective over.

“Then why didn’t you put a circle around the bird? Or the cow? Or the fence?” The teacher asked while I looked at her, insulted and confused by what she failed to see.

“You didn’t say to put a circle ~ you said to put a ring,” I said, pointing out the tiny diamond ring on the bird’s little toe, the sparkler around the cow’s hoof and the bling bling diamond fastened to the fence.

If only she would have said circle . . . Because when I hear the word “ring” it can mean only one thing. . .jewelry! My mom saved that assignment, which is tucked away with other masterpieces including a spelling test where I misspelled “ship” in a rather offensive way...

A few years back while ordering office supplies for the Citizen, I was trying to buy the most reasonably priced items instead of the most expensive pair of scissors. (Mostly because I was told to tone it down after splurging on blue and pink colored notepads for the reporters, which I thought made life a little more fun.)

Unfortunately, when the reasonably priced scissors arrived, I discovered why they were so cheap. They were tiny little scissors for Kindergartners in bright colors with rounded 2 and a half inch long blades! Citizen photographer Rob O’Neal patiently man-handled the tiny scissors with a straight face and made them work while teasing me only a little bit. You’re a good man, Rob.

Personally, I think we need these complications in our lives too keep things interesting. Mistakes build character, teach us lessons and keep us busy. Although you may be embarrassed at the time, these flubs and follies connect us all in our imperfect world.

However, while these little setbacks are comical, pulling too many “Traci’s” in a row isn’t recommended, as there is such a thing as building too much character. So, pay attention to detail, ask for directions when confused, and if you want something, be clear and concise about what it is you want. Otherwise, you might find that you and those around you are running around in rings….I mean circles.

Sometimes it is not our achievements that define and build us, but rather it’s the ways in which we’ve been wrong that show our true colors. The times in between our successes . . . where we’ve screwed up, laughed about it with friends, dusted ourselves off and marched on down the road.

The Greenest grass is usually right under your . . .ass

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(4.30.09)

Whether it be about where to live, what to drive or who to spend your life with, we all make choices and change our minds about them over and over again until we die.

Everyone struggles with decisions daily, allowing us numerous opportunities to over-analyze what we want and question our many options. We consider how others may be affected by what we say or do. We take forever trying to decide on something and then we spend forever doubting our decisions, big and small.

This, my friends, is the “Grass is Greener Complex“, and is not something to take lightly. It is a disease that can ruin the greatest of accomplishments and stain the most superb of situations. It is a creepy and sneaky doubt that takes over to make you question your conquests, even those as simple as what to order at a restaurant. The complex makes you compare yourself to others and ultimately admit that they have something you want for yourself.

This is also something I refer to as the Surf ‘N Turf Syndrome. You know how this goes, you order the steak but wish you had ordered the lobster. Or you choose the lobster but as soon as the waiter leaves you start craving the steak. The obvious choice, which is more expensive because it’s highly reliable, is the option that rewards you with meat from both the land and the sea.

Just like the most welcomed advice a woman can hear while shopping, “Which one should I get? This one, or this one…”

“Get them both!” Ahh, the sweet, selfish words we want to hear that guarantee satisfaction... Or do they?

Don’t be surprised that when your surf and turf arrives, you spot a wedge salad dripping with bleu cheese that appeals to your appetite way more than what‘s displayed in front of you. And sure enough, your two new dresses are definitely awesome, but not half as cute as these shoes that appear while you’re heading out the door. Coulda,, shoulda, woulda.

Sometimes it’s not even your conscious self who makes these decisions during times when your motor functions fail. There have been plenty of occasions where I’ve known exactly what I was going to order, told others at the table my intentions, and then suffered from Turrets Syndrome when the waiter arrives, blurting out something that’s the exact opposite of what I wanted. What the? Sometimes there are just too many choices and we crack under pressure, I guess.

So how do you ensure that you’re in control of what you want and get exactly that? When it comes to food, number one is a salad bar. It’s the perfect place for indecisive people who crave instant gratification, and don‘t we all? In Key West, besides Braza Lena’s colossal and pricey spread, the only other salad bar I know of is at Albertson’s . . .and it is fantastic. Several laps around, carefully selecting veggies soon to be smothered in Ranch, is so very rewarding and a winner every time. No communication needed, grab a plate, analyze and arrange your masterpiece.

Switching gears to the sweet side, there already exists a masterpiece of unparalleled proportions. Recently I’ve seen a commercial showing two very tempting Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and the words “Because no on one should have to choose between peanut butter and chocolate…” Well done . . .and oh so true . . . and never a decision that requires a second guess. Chocolate or peanut butter? Why pick one if two is twice the fun? The more the merrier right?

Although I wouldn’t recommend you apply those last few analogies when debating whom to date. (Unless, of course, all parties involved are actively aware of each others‘ involvement).

So if the grass in your hypothetical yard starts to lose its luster, it’s alright to be selfish. To look out for yourself. To go after what you want and most importantly - to get it. But it should be said that ideally, you can get what you want and avoid hurting others in the process. So alas, you see some greener grass??!!! Just be sure that you’ve sold the house before you go moving in down the street, you know what I mean?

And if your green grass complex arrises over not having the family, education, career or image that you want, take a second to count your blessings. The Rolling Stones said “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try some time, you just might find - you get what you need.”

Oh yes. . .Indeed. So focus on what you have and make an effort to make it better. Sometimes, we’re too busy thinking about the blessings that other roads could have bestowed upon us, that we pay little attention to what we already have in front of us.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: choose wisely what you cherish and love loyally what you choose, because he who has the most, has the most to lose.

Keep it classy Key West ~ We’ve got a rep to protect

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(4.23.09)

Last week’s column about raising the bar before going to the bar generated a lot of response from the men out there.

Men who shower, shave, own sport coats and make a conscious decision to represent themselves respectfully spoke up to set the record straight.

Some sent in sassy photos of how they clean up (thank you, Austin). Others wrote in to say that they completely agree with me, as do their wives, about how more people need to take pride in their appearances - both men and women.

Now once again, I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t gifted with the most stylish of upbringings. Topeka, Kans. It’s not exactly a fashion Mecca and growing up surrounded by “Who Farted?” hats by no means grants me the ability to pass judgement…but I’m gonna.

“The problem in Key West is the guys who dress like a bum get the babes!! It's the womens fault!! Guys will do whatever you guys require. We are trained seals!!” wrote Dr. Bruce.

Well I hope there are plenty of seals reading this column because we (the ladies) are ready to teach.

I’ve been conducting extensive research with self-proclaimed group of Women Who Whine about men (while drinking wine), and let’s face it, we have plenty of ammunition.

We are tenacious and loquacious ladies whose opinions are elevated with the presence of good cocktails and good company. The topic of your hygiene has been discussed at length and it must be said that we have nothing against hard working, blue-collar men who get dirty for a living. In fact, many prefer those who crunch steel over those who crunch numbers and are impressed by your strength and manliness. But there’s a time and place for everything, and we appreciate it when you shower your manliness off before wandering out into the world, that’s all.

Because truth be told, we’re not going to be accepting drinks or dancing with someone who looks like they’ll leave their mark on our clean clothes.

In other news, there are some men out there whose shoes stink so badly that they have to leave them outside to ensure getting a good nights sleep. If that is indeed the case, perhaps you could spring for a spare pair instead of hoping we don’t notice. If you can smell them, than we can smell them, despite your effort to seal in the stench. And for those of you in flip-flops . . . Please don’t abuse this privilege. If your feet look like you hijacked Barney Rubble’s car and propelled yourself cross-country, please don’t showcase your dirty stumps for our viewing pleasure. Consider the tub before you consider the club, alright?

Now touché m‘ladies! It’s time for me to address the other side of the coin. First of all, beauty sleep isn’t an old wives tale. It is in one’s best interest to crawl into bed early once and awhile ~ clean, moisturized and hydrated. Just because we live in a party town doesn’t mean you have to be at every party. Do us all a favor and stay out of the spot light long enough to recharge. There’s nothing wrong with being a woman who wines on occasion, as long as you’re a woman who waters often.

Earl, who has seen more chain smoking, tattooed, dehydrated young women than he would care to, wrote in to point out an interesting observation. “Some of these local girls, if you were to pinch their cheek and pull gently, instead of snapping back, the skin would stay there! I call them "hundred yard girls"…. They look good from about a hundred yards away.”

And I must add that for every young woman who looks older than her years, there are 10 older women dressing way younger than theirs. We can’t get away with bra tops forever ladies. What makes you think that another layer of fabric is going to hoist your chest up the way under wire and hooks do? It’s one step away from going braless which is way more flattening than flattering and not a good idea for grown ups.

All I’m saying is take another look in the mirror before you go out presenting yourself to the masses. Is what you’re wearing and how you look an accurate portrayal of who you want to represent? Would you be doing yourself a favor by swapping shirts or plucking a unibrow before hitting the town? Should you be a good friend when you see that a faux pas is being committed? Of course. It is up to us to right the many wrongs that wander amongst us daily.

Keep it classy Key West, and start by keeping it covered. I for one am a little sick of running into the midriffs of the middle aged. If the T shirt you are wearing is where your kid goes to college, you have no business tying it in a knot and showing off your stretch marks.

I’m sorry but Fantasy Fest is in October people, plan accordingly.

And for the record, T shirts that say things such as: “60 percent of the time it works all of the time,” are not appreciated by us ladies and cause your stock to drop tremendously. Wearing shirts that say stuff, means you don’t have to say a word . . . You’ve already been pegged.

Hey guys ~ Let’s try raising the bar before going to the bar!

By Traci Rork
Miss Informed

(4.16.09)

My recent observation should come as no surprise: Little (if any) preparation is needed to get ready for a night out in Key West. We are a casual, beachy village with a very lax dress code at even the finest of establishments. A tropical island whose stores have signs boasting: No shoes, no shirt, no problem.

Well sorry guys, I beg to differ.

Not completely of course, as there are plenty of activities and venues where nothing more than a swimming suit is required. Plus, I’m well aware of the fact that many nights out begin at happy hour, lunch, or even breakfast with mimosas. Many people, including yours truly, have coasted through the day and into the night without a thought or a care about what to wear. The “come as you are” mentality of the Florida Keys is a charming sentiment and a comfortable notion. However, I think a few of us have perhaps gotten just a little too comfortable with that notion.

What do you call a Key Wester in a tie? The defendant. Now that has been a long-standing joke and many take pride in this town‘s rustic reputation. Many locals make a living working on fishing boats, dive boats, and jet skies under the Florida sun. Many work nights closing down restaurants and bars and a nightcap is a means of maintaining ones sanity rather than social life. I get that.

But I don’t think it would hurt if the men in this town tried to step it up a notch while heading out to catch a band or grab a beer. You can save the suits and ties for weddings, court, and Christmas parties, but a little bit of effort made on occasion certainly couldn‘t hurt your chances of landing a sexy lady.

Friday night a group of girls and I couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t a single guy in the bar that we didn’t want to hose off and scrub with a brillo pad. We had swapped dresses, put on make-up and perfume and marched into a sweaty cluster of grimy and grisly men. I understand that your worn out T-shirts and sweat-stained hats are comfortable and obviously reliable, but come on guys! It’s just as easy to wash your hair and pull a collared shirt over your head, right? And with the summer heat sizzling more and more each day, how can you stand those straggly beards?

Now before you go getting your granola ready to throw at me, understand that I‘m not suggesting we march around in gaudy, glamorous, get-ups. This isn’t about being superficial and showing off the latest brand names - that’s mainly why I left Dallas. But come on ~ do you really need to rush off to the Parrot without brushing your teeth? The island is 4 by 2 miles wide . . . you can’t live too far away from where you‘ve been and where you‘re headed. Can’t you make it to the shower before hitting the streets? And don’t say that you can’t afford a few nice shirts and shorts . . . Ross is no secret. Perhaps you could opt to stay in a few nights and get a new wardrobe from what you save on your bar tabs.

Before I incriminate all of the men in this town as fashion failures, there are plenty out there who should be commend on their daily effort to look dapper. Most are older, gay or tourists, but a there are a few guys my age who take enough pride in themselves to peel their paint stained pants off before going public. And since I’ve already claimed one of these hunks as my own, I just want to make sure there are others out there for my hot single lady friends to snatch up.

Just because we’re famous for Sloppy Joe’s bar doesn’t mean we need a bunch of sloppy Joe’s strutting around this town. I know it’s hot out and many choose function over fashion, but it doesn’t have to be an either/or scenario. We need Queer Eye for the Straight Guy to come turn this town around and replace fishing shirts with button downs and ripped pants with at least something clean and presentable. Nothing too dramatic, just slight adjustments that can make a serious difference.

As the saying goes, you never get a second chance to make a first impression. Well, luckily for those of us living in itsy bitsy Key West, you get multiple chances to make plenty of impressions, just don't keep making the same one - especially if it's not a good one!

I’m merely suggesting that if you want to make an impressive impression, brush your teeth, handle your hygiene, and at the very least and for God’s sake - burn your overalls.