Family vacation, baby

For those of you who missed reading my blog last week, I apologize, I was on vacation in Florida. And what a vacation it was! All 11 members of my immediate family - my parents, three sisters, two brothers-in-law, two nieces, nephew and I basked in a three-story beach house in Destin, Fla. for a week.
The best part of the vacation was having 3.5 bathrooms in the house. A few years ago, when we were family vacationing in Port Aransas, most of us caught a stomach bug that had us bowing over the toilet every half hour or so. Even worse, the house we were staying in only had one bathroom. Orderly rotations for bathroom use just don't work when that many people are sick in one place.
Fortunately, this time, no one got sick, and if they had, plenty of bathrooms would have been available.
The house we stayed on was right on the beach, so every morning when I woke up, I could see watch the waves through the window by my bed. Make that sofa bed, actually.
Up until last week, I hadn't slept on a pull-out sofa bed in several years. Generally, if I'm given a choice, I prefer to sleep on the floor. After sleeping on that sofa bed and refreshing my memory, I was reminded why. I'm not sure who invented sofa beds or who made the particular one that I was using last week, but they apparently thought I needed an iron bar to run across my back and shoulder blades. You know, just in case my back was in danger of being comfortable.
Aside from the bed, my vacation was nothing short of relaxing. My oldest sister and I did provide some nail-biting moments for the rest of my family, though, as we zeroed in and won our family's first annual Pinochle tournament.
Those with the last name Kezar or who have married into the Kezar family know the rules of Pinochle. For those of you who aren't so privileged, I can't really explain how the game works. I vaguely know how to play myself, and am generally known as a non-aggressive partaker of the game, which makes me last pick for a partner. My oldest sister is the same way. We were stacked as the underdogs in the  tournament, so we felt completely justified in screaming and jumping up and down when we beat our parents, who pretty much play telepathically, my brothers-in-law, who play with a lot of testosterone, and my other two sisters, who play with a lot of - well - testosterone, I think.
All I can say is, that plastic trophy may have cost my brother-in-law four bucks, but its worth its weight in gold to me.
But winning the Pinochle tournament wasn't the best part of the trip. Neither was scuba diving, snorkeling, being stalked by a remora (a type of sucker fish), watching the antics of a pod of dolphins, running on sand so clean it squeaked under my feet or stuffing myself beyond good sense with crab at the Crab Trap. Though, come to think of it, those were highlights.
No, the real peak of the trip was spending time with my family. Three bathrooms or none, couch sofa beds or memory foam mattresses, we are and always will be a tight bunch. While this means I'll never be able to take a shower in peace, it also means that I have 10 people to call at any time, day or night, for help, support or love. And we can put up with each other for seven consecutive days in close quarters. Not every family can say that.
So, back here in Texas, now a slightly off-white color because my freckles are starting to merge together a little after so much time in the sun, I'm settling back down into the routine of work and everyday life. And my family is already planning our vacation for next year. As for me, I'm just hoping Vacation 2013 brings me a real bed.

Shannon (right) and I on the boardwalk near Crab Island.

Audio blandness

Is it just me, or is everything on the radio lately pretty sub par?
I don't mean the oldies and goodies - I'm talking about top-40 pop music, the stuff that blares in two-hour cycles on stations with catchy names like "Mix," "Da Beat" and "Jamz."
As far as Austin radio stations go, I find myself sticking to KLBJ, which plays a decent assortment of classic rock, and BOB FM, which plays a decent assortment of everything.
I've taken to avoiding everything else, because I can't stand anything that's come out lately. Probably the latest top-40 hit I liked was "Good Life" by Onerepublic, and that was apparently released in 2010.
I can only attribute this type of reaction to popular mainstream music to two things: my age and upbringing.
I grew up on a steady diet of Aerosmith, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Who, Journey, Heart, Boston and other classic rock staples. Both my mother and father have great taste in music, though I will say that I don't really agree with Mom's like of Katy Perry. Even so, 99 times out of 100, I can tell if a song is by Grand Funk Railroad, the Yardbirds, Velvet Revolver, etc. And it's getting to the point that 100 times out of 100, I'd rather listen to one of the above mentioned bands than whatever is on "the mix of (insert city name)."
I suppose my aging process has something to do with my growing dislike as well. Despite the fact that quite a bit of popular music is catered to people up to 24-years-old, at 22 years of age, I'm ready to toss it all out the window. I think after two decades and two years, I must now know what I like to hear and be stuck in a rut of comfort with hits like "Barracuda," "More Than a Feeling" and "Baba O'Riley." Either that, or Dad was right - I was born 30-years-old.
Typically, I'm not one to bash others' musical tastes. I don't like mine to be questioned or made fun of, so I generally extend everyone else the same courtesy. But all of the "Little Monsters" (Gaga fans) and "Beliebers" (Justin Bieber fans), are really starting to get to me. And the lack of variety on the radio is becoming tiring, too.
Looking for possible solutions to my problem, I have come up with only two - putting in earplugs and turning on pop music radio stations so as to appear normal, or disabling the radio in my car. Both sound like too much work.
I think the only real solution is to declare myself as a horrible top-40 hate and let the fuss die down. That means most top-40 lovers will probably avoid me when playing music, which is fine with me, and everyone will know the truth about my musical tastes.
One day, when other people my age realize they don't like pop music either, I can only hope I'll still be around as a bastion of good tunes they can run to. And those who shunned me because I think Heart is an awesome girl band will come back apologizing, and I will accept them. But for now, I'm listening to the Eagles by my lonesome.

Photo via campusvoice.info.

Take your chirping elsewhere

My newspaper office has become a hospital for amputee crickets.
In an obvious sign that summer is raging across Texas, even the smallest creatures are trying to make a break for it and land inside an air-conditioned building. Anything, it would seem, is better than outside.
I feel bad for the crickets in some ways - by the time they get inside, they're usually missing legs or miscellaneous body parts I can't spell, if they're alive at all.
On the other hand, I can't stand seeing them in the first place. Despite growing up on a ranch, I have a huge fear of grasshoppers and crickets. It doesn't matter that crickets make pretty sounds at night, or that they're supposedly "gentle insects." As far as I'm concerned, they need to be squashed. Preferably by someone who is not me.
My cat, Juliette, and my room mate's cat, Cousteau, seem to be the only ones happy with the infestation. When they find a cricket, they generally paw it onto a spot on the floor where they can both examine it and then perform what appear to be a series of experiments.

Juliette: Dr. Cousteau, what is your prognosis?
Cousteau: Well, Dr. Juliette, it moves, so that must mean we need to pounce on it.
Juliette: My thoughts exactly. Being cats working in the name of science, we'll need to bite it, too, to determine whether it's any good to eat.
Cousteau: A fine conclusion.

They then proceed to bite off one of the cricket's legs, and when the insect tries to amble away, they paw it back to the "examining table" and continue their scientific discovery.
At least someone's happy about it. A couple of weeks ago, when crickets were first starting to leak their way into our newsroom, I refused to sit any way but Indian-style on my office chair for fear I would step on a cricket or one would run a quick marathon over my feet.
I did make a fool out of myself one morning when a particularly brash cricket made its way under my desk and I screeched "Kill it, kill it!" at my editor, who obligingly crawled under my desk, picked up the bug and delivered it outside unharmed. Our sports editor, who sits across from me, didn't hesitate to make fun of me, but only for 10 minutes, at which time a cricket crawled under his desk and he screeched "Kill it, kill it!"
Fortunately, I live in a second floor apartment and despite the cricket's ability to jump, only a few have made their way into my living quarters. If more come along, I will assume this means all of cricket-kind is declaring war on my 1,092 square-foot territory, and kick into battle mode.
So, a warning to crickets and all bug kind: if you continue to advance the troops, prepare to meet the mean end of my boot, spatula, rolled up newspaper or other object at hand, as I will begin wildly swinging and throwing with no regard to the safety of others.

Photo via eightcow.com

The heat that oppresses

Yesterday, rubber from a blown tire was seen melting on an Austin highway. I wasn't surprised when I heard - even most of the elements on the lower two rows of the periodic table can't stand against the heat in Texas.
For most of the United States, summer officially begins with the solstice, which happened last week. However, Texans traditionally brace themselves for summer starting in mid-April. By the time the solstice rolls around, we're knee-deep in what I refer to as our state's fifth season, which I have not-so-affectionately dubbed "super summer."
Any Texan reading this will know exactly what I'm talking about. For any non-Texans, let me elaborate. Super summer begins and spreads across Texas in a wave-like pattern - south Texas gets hot first, and the heat moves north until residents of Lubbock are screaming like crawfish being poured into a pot of boiling hot water.
After the heat settles in, it makes itself comfortable. It busies itself 24/7 keeping everyone oppressively hot, whether the sun is up or not, and invites its friends humidity and UV rays to come hang out. Often, the trio of pranksters spends the season sunburning skin, frizzing hair, burning butts that sit on leather that's been in contact with the sun and generally wreaking havoc.
Other defining characteristics of super summer include temperatures over 100 degrees, extreme droughts, burn bans and the absence of rain or any type of H2O in general. If you're non-native Texan visiting between April and October, be aware of these signs and conditions.
This year, it looks like the heat is setting in right on schedule as the Central Texas area is set to reach up to 108 degrees before the weekend. While the next few months are predicted to be less scorching than this time last year, everyone should still prepare for outrageous conditions. My parents are braving the heat in south Texas as they participate in a mission project this week, repairing a 52-foot roof with new boards, tar paper and shingles. It almost shiver to thinking about it, but it's much too hot for that.
I'll be doing my own sweating this weekend, thought not for as good a cause, as I attempt to move all of my possessions from Central Austin to the Northwest area. While I'm excited about my new place, I'm dreading the way my body will be screaming at me as I haul boxes up and down two flights of stairs. For those of you who are wondering, yes, that is a long distance to go in 108-degree weather.
All of this complaining, though, won't change the fact that super summer is here and nesting in like a bad room mate. All I, or any Texan can do now is figure out how to deal with it and keep away from heat exhaustion.
As for me, I'm planning on plenty of swimming, cold glasses of water and keeping the A/C in the office firmly planted no higher than 72. I'm also hoping that as Google finishes the Google Glass, its next project will be air conditioned clothing.
Until then, I advise those under the summer weather to bring out the flip flops, fill the kiddie pool with bags of ice and keep hydrated when working or playing outside.

Photo via icanhazcheezburger.com

Me: A still life

Korri Kezar, 1993, age 3

My full name is Korri Dean Kezar.
I was born March 22, 1990, to my parents, Michael and Victoria, and am the third of their four daughters. Such a large female population made using the bathroom in the mornings when I grew up pretty hectic.
I was born in San Antonio, Texas, spent my first few years in Moore, Texas, and grew up primarily in Devine, Texas, a small town of about 4,000 people south of San Antonio. Devine is home to the best tacos on Earth and some of my best memories.
I enrolled at the University of Texas at Austin in fall of 2008. I graduated three years later, in May 2011, with a degree in journalism and a concentration in newspaper journalism.
After I graduated, I started my job with Austin Community Newspapers, which is the flagship company of the two papers I write for, the Cedar Park-Leander Statesman and the Pflugerville Pflag. Our system also includes newspapers in Round Rock, Bastrop, Smithville, West Lake, Lakeway and other areas around Lake Travis.
But I always think the most interesting facets of me go beyond my basic information and resume. Many people, when they read articles or stories, hardly think about what the writer behind the information is really like. And why should they? I can't think of anyone who's ever told me they approached a New York Times article with the intention of reading a reporter's biography. I certainly haven't.
However, now that I have an outlet to give more information about myself, I thought I would seize the opportunity. And maybe it will help anyone who reads this blog understand where my points of view originated. So, I now present, Korri Kezar: A Still Life, a more in-depth view of my life as I've seen and still see it.
I was born in San Antonio to my parents, Mike and Vikki, two strong Christian individuals who, to me, embody the American dream of working hard to get from the bottom to the top.
I have three sisters, two older and one younger. Stacey and I are 13 years apart, Jennifer is 11 years older than me and I'm two years older than Shannon. All three of them have strong personalities and diverse sets of talents. I do stick with my earlier statement - sharing a bathroom with them and my mother was nothing short of chaos.
I attended school in Devine, from elementary to high school. I graduated in June 2011 ranked fifth in my class, which helped me snag admission into my dream school, UT Austin.
I went to college with my best friends, which made making the shift into adulthood seemingly easier, and staying immature more appealing. While there, I worked for the Daily Texan, which was the college's only newspaper at the time, before moving on to become a founding member of the Horn, a publication started entirely by undergraduate students as an alternative to the Texan.
Journalism is my passion, and I feel fortunate to have found it without too much wandering aimlessly through life. My parents, especially my mother, were strong supporters of my venture into the field.
My parents are also a big influence on my life overall. They instilled in all of their children Christian values, which are the cornerstones of my life. They taught us to work hard, have a good ethic and not be afraid to take risks.
My sisters, too, have been pivotal in shaping me. Shannon and I, being two years apart, started developing a close sister relationship when we had both left high school and figured out that having the same DNA was not a prerequisite for ripping into each other all the time. Stacey is most like me in personality, and Jenn is a strong, independent force.
So that sums up my life perspective a little more fully, I think, but I want to add in the fun things that define me as well. For example, I was voted most likely to jump out of an airplane and into an ocean full of sharks by my friends.
When I'm not working or blogging, I may still be writing in some capacity. Other times, I can be found with my family and friends, reading, playing with my cats, practicing hot yoga, watching HGTV, scuba diving or furiously tapping away on my phone.
Some of of my life's best moments so far include becoming a Christian, studying at Yale University for a summer, being published in the New York Times, being an aunt to two nieces and a nephew and meeting my boyfriend Michael.
To wrap up my study into my own life, I'll end this post with a few of my goals: to become the best journalist I can, to publish a novel, to learn another foreign language and to be remembered as a good Christian.
And with the way things are going, I'd say I'm in pretty good shape.

Worthwhile writing

I first started writing "Things I know for sure" about a year ago.
Last July, after I had worked for the Cedar Park Citizen, Leander Ledger and North Lake Travis Log for a month, my editor asked if I would write something for our editorial pages.
My first problem was coming up with a catchy name that described my writing style and message. At that time, I was 21-years-old and newly employed at my first professional job. Realizing the position I was in, I went with "Things I know for sure," a play on my age and lack of experience.
I realized as I started writing columns for the paper more often that the title also described my content. My writing isn't always the sagest advice, but it is filled with my personal beliefs and what I've learned in just over two decades.
I just celebrated my one-year anniversary in the newsroom last week. In a year, we have gone from three papers to one, and now produce the Cedar Park-Leander Statesman. In my yearly evaluation, I wrote down expanding myself as a journalist as one of my personal goals. With that in mind, I decided to turn my column into a biweekly blog.
Who's going to read it? I have no idea. Anyone who thinks reading another person's life perspective is funny, insightful or just interesting. But whoever reads it, I hope they come away from it with a different view point, or something to think and talk about.
That's how I'll know my writing is worthwhile.