Remember when I had this?:

Hello Kitty Debit Card

and I instantly made friends because people either thought a) “that’s so cool, where did you get it/how do you get it/are you connected to a 13-year old girl queen-bee society” or b) that person ringing me up at Yogurtland also had the hello kitty card so we were automatically bros or hoes?

Sad to say that my Hello Kitty card was canceled, terminated really, on  my way to Costa Rica.  It was actually the worst timing possible which I will discuss in another post but the point is, in writing and in color coding, BOA send me a new average red debit card.

I was unsettled with all of this news.

I went to BOA to learn that Hello Kitty was dead.  On Tuesday, they told me they could try to find some cards in storage but the card had also been discontinued years ago.  On Wednesday, they said there was no storage.  On Thursday, they said the loss of Hello Kitty had lost the bank business. Lisa told me today, “people came and joined our bank to get that card.”

Whose Lisa?

Lisa is the lady who helped me at the bank.  Dare, I say was charmed by my neurotocism and relieved (?) to deal with a young mess such as myself who had a savings account (?) and simply had the time to argue for a beautiful, swanky, branded “design me” debit card.  We talked $401k.

I told Lisa, “If Hello Kitty is dead, gimme Betty Boop.  She meant a lot to me in childhood and x years ago I was debating between those two cards.”

Guess what?

Betty Boop is also dead.

And so Lisa and I looked at cards with these topics:


Sounds interesting, right?  Well, it’s not.  Getting a college card seems cheesy, sorry guys who have a UPenn Alumni card, and it’s not even an option because UPenn is not even on BOA’s radar…we are too classy.  Want to show off Notre Dame and the fighting irish?  No.  Show off that you’re note a nurse with a nurse of bellevue county.  Or even show an ugly logo with some bad composition.

Eventually, I went Patriotic.  I thought, “let’s find the ugliest, stupidest, most flamboyant statement piece possible and pretend that I’m into the military.”  Did I tell you I even looked for a blood donation/bank ensignia but no dice?  The military thing just got too weird.  I thought people might see that and start telling me war tales of their beaus or sons in the army and I would turn to them at let’s say, Urban Outfitters, and say, “Oh I bought this card as a joke because it scares me and has a nice picture of a pilot.”

I narrowed it down to “scenic fall” or “breast cancer.”  Lisa who intimately knew me after 20 minutes (yes, it took me 20 minutes and eventual control over the mouse on her computer to find the appropriate “design” for me) told me I should do “breast cancer.”  So here’s the new card:

And then I told this story to my friend John (who loved it) over drinks at 4 PM at a lovely place in Cap Hill called the Lookout.  I had him sweating, grasping for air, dying to know the end conclusion…The story was so good that I even told it at a bike party, later that evening, and guess what, even the guy who decided to have a crush on me because “I’m mean” stopped listening to my tale about the debit card because it was so boring.  My roommate eventually said (after not giving two cents), “Susan G. Komen sucks.  It takes two seconds and one New York Times article to realize she’s evil.”

I know nothing.

So this morning, I went back to see Lisa on Madison Ave.  I was greeted by a “oh Chelsea, oh Chelsea” and then we discussed in detail how Susan G. Komen is supposedly evil and Lisa is planning a trip to Hawaii in April with her child and husband.

The first category Lisa and I ignored was “scenic.”  Why show off a picture of a beach?  “Scenic fall” is coming to a wallet near (or far from ) you.