I think I've got it now?

2008-09-05T19:30:00.002-05:00

So I've decided I'm more a Tumblr type of gal. Check me out over at here.

2008-09-03T19:41:00.001-05:00

Um, who knew there was even such a thing as a "metallic hotsuit." Thanks, ANTM, for making the world a trashier place.

Haven't moved a whole lot

2008-08-21T17:13:00.001-05:00

I just ventured to my front entrance to get the mail. Since it's my rest day from running it was the first time all day I've been out the door of my apartment. Someone will have to remind me about this sloggy feeling two months from now...

All White People Really Do Look The Same

2008-08-21T15:16:00.002-05:00

My mom first told me about this story and then my friend Colleen linked it on her blog. I can't resist adding it here because it's so hilarious...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/olympics/7569430.stm

Bad day at the office?

2008-08-21T11:04:00.001-05:00

You know, I have to assume that customer service is not going well when I call to check on a subscription that was supposed to be canceled back in April and when I tell the woman my problem she replies by saying "Oh God."

No shortage of entertainment

2008-08-21T09:36:00.002-05:00

Seriously, riding the bus never fails to give me a dose of entertainment during the day. I have to make sure to ride the 16 or the 50 down University, as the commuter buses that go to and from downtown just don't provide the same quality entertainment. Yesterday as I rode the 50 at about 3 p.m. a woman behind me kept yelling out "Anyone want to open a Wells Fargo bank account? Wells Fargo checking account?"

"Hmmm," I thought to myself. "This seems like awfully strange street marketing for Wells Fargo. Do they really need to put people on buses to open bank accounts?"

Yeah, so it turns out that Wells Fargo has some kind of referral deal going on and if you get people to sign up for new checking accounts you get $25 in your own checking account. The bus bank account hawker revealed this shortly after no one responded to her original offer by saying "I need $50, so at least two people need to sign up for bank accounts!"

Oh, yes please, complete stranger. Let me supply you with all my most personal information in this world of identity theft so that I can help you make money. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Random bus moment of the day

2008-08-18T11:09:00.002-05:00

On the ever-dangerous 16 today it was fairly empty and quiet. Maybe all my mid-day bus riding friends have a case of the Mondays and aren't out riding around town today. Anyway, I thought it was going to be a fairly peaceful trip with the exception of the man laughing manically to himself near the front. Laughter like that always make me nervous because, since I always expect disaster, I feel as though the Laugher is envisioning the imminent death of everyone on the bus and is crazy, so thinks it's funny.

However, the Laugher wasn't my biggest problem. As well pulled into Huron to make a right onto Washington there was a Jeep coming straight toward oncoming traffic. Yup, driving on the wrong side of the road. The bus driver, who had been pretty quiet up to this point (maybe the Laugher was making her nervous, too) yelled out "Look at this idiot!" and look we all did. The Jeep guy realized that he was driving the wrong damn way down the road and managed to back up and pull onto the correct side of the divided roadway.

After the wrong-way Jeep had moved on the bus driver decided to continue her commentary by saying "Where did he learn to drive? And I thought I was a bad driver."

Uh, okay, you drive for a LIVING and not only do you consider yourself a bad driver, but you announce it to a busload full of people who are at your driving mercy? Even worse, I was the only one on the entire bus who seemed somewhat shocked by this announcement. Maybe I'm not the public transport aficionado I thought I was...

That fourth grade recall

2008-08-09T18:50:00.002-05:00

I just realized that most of the Spanish I was able to recall while in Mexico came from watching West Side Story in elementary school. Man, if only they'd been teaching me another language then, too.

And it's unplugged

2008-08-03T20:09:00.002-05:00

So I'm pretty sure my microwave is possessed by the devil. The other day I was sitting in my living room/office/dining room (okay, so it's my all-purpose room where I spend 95% of my time when I'm in my apartment) and I heard a beep. I thought at first it must be coming from a car parked in the alley. I heard it again a few seconds later, so I went to look out my kitchen window. That's when I realized it was my own microwave beeping at me.

When I first looked at the microwave screen where the time should have been it was empty. Then, the beeping happened again, and one 6 came up. A few milliseconds later, another beep and a second 6. Clearly, I could see where this was going and I was not happy about it. I hit clear and reprogrammed the time into the microwave.

The microwave accepted the time I set, then beeped and 666 came up. Uh, not okay. I hit cancel as quickly as I could, but the numbers did not clear. I hit it again and the screen cleared out. I set the time again and walked away. Minutes later, more beeping and 666 was back.

Freaking out a little, I called my friend, who shrieked a little and advised me to unplug the devil. Good call. I unplugged the microwave while it beeped at me repeatedly, all the while displaying 666.

Since then I've plugged the microwave back again and used it, but after a few hours the devil will arise again. Yeah, not cool. And it's only 11 months old...

Last hurrah

2008-07-28T22:40:00.005-05:00

My last full day in California started with me waking up early and deciding to shower so I could beat everyone else into the hostel bathroom. Got to love sharing with a million people. After that I checked out, got my car (which I hadn't seen for three days, but it was just fine), and grabbed some breakfast in Pacific Heights before hitting the road. San Francisco is a fantastic city and I plan to be back soon.

For my drive back down to LA I wanted to take the Pacific Coast Highway for at least some of the journey instead of the desert route I took to get up to San Fran. My first step was taking a winding "highway" with a 35 mph speed limit through the Redwood forest at the coastline. They weren't old growth Redwood trees, but they were still pretty cool. I'll have to make sure I see an old growth Redwood on my return to CA. After I drove through the forest I found myself on Highway 1, and it was immediately beautiful.

I pulled over a good twenty times to take pictures on a route that found me winding through Big Sur and along the coastline through the mountains. At times I felt slightly carsick, which is something I usually never experience as the driver. I've also never driven on a road which is winding back and forth as fast as I can turn the wheel while simultaneously winding up and down. I traveled about 100 miles on the Pacific Coast Highway before it met up with the 101, which I took for the remaining 280 miles to LA in order to get here before the middle of the night.

The rest of the day was spent driving, so after departing San Fran around 9 this morning I reached my airport hotel at 7:30 this evening. That's certainly enough driving for one day. Now I just have to rest up and be ready to catch my flight tomorrow morning at 9:30. Back to reality, and I'm not so sure I'm ready for it.

Now I just need to find some money and someone who wants to come back and play in California some more :)

Below are some pictures from today. It was breathtakingly gorgeous and I would love to go back and hike or bike through some of the wilderness.

Early on in the drive. The weather changed throughout the morning from foggy to sunny, but I don't think it rose above 70 degrees along the coast.

I'm really terrible at self shots, but here I am with my Prius on the Pacific Coast Highway. A hybrid and scenery. Pretty sweet.

Sunny coastline. Breathtaking.

The fog just rolls in and looks awesome. The light line you see running through this picture is the road.

Man, it was just so cool. The Pacific.

Watch for flying cardboard

2008-07-27T23:03:00.003-05:00

My second full day in San Francisco was just as packed as the first, but with a very different feeling. Today was COLD and foggy. I had been warned that it would be cool here, but I was downright chilly in jeans and a sweatshirt all day. I even started off the morning in shorts and a light sweater, but had to return to my hostel for a change of clothing after breakfast. Thinking that my breakfast location was fairly close I headed out to walk there. Not so much. Just a few blocks from my apartment a homeless man who hadn't even asked me for anything told me to go f*** myself and threw a pizza box at my head. Seriously--and the pizza box had be flattened down so it flew pretty well in a frisbee-like fashion and I actually had to duck. Good morning to you, too, dude!

After that eventful start and my hilly multiple mile walk to breakfast I was ready for some food. I also tried to West Coast chain Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf (which I think is quite a stupid name). I was not impressed to find they use powder for their flavorings and still think Starbucks in the corporate-chain taste winner. I was able to figure out the bus to get back to the hotel, so I missed any more incidents with homeless people chucking random items at my head.

Next up it was time to meet a friend of a friend who lives out here for a mural tour she suggested. I headed to the part of town inhabited by mostly Mexican immigrants and was transported back to a place that I spent a month in during May and June (except cleaner and with safer tap water). Everything was similar to Mexico right down to the men making kissy noises on the street. The murals we toured were pretty cool and it was interesting to see the way they have transformed some neighborhoods. After the mural tour there was time for lunch at (where else?) a Mexican restaurant before using the BART train system (if we're counting it's mode of transportation number four for SF) to head out to the Embarcadero. From there I caught a street car (number 5) to Pier 33 and loaded up for my bay cruise.

The only photo from this trip with my not doing a terrible self-shot with a weird look on my face. Thanks Alex!

I decided not to go to Alcatraz for the reasons of 1. It's creepy, 2. It takes most of a day, and 3. It was sold out by the time I got around to checking into it. Okay, so it was mostly reason number 3, but in any case I didn't actually land on the island. I did take a cruise that took me under the Golden Gate Bridge and around the Alcatraz (three times, and I could have done without the third trip around). Yesterday this cruise was probably lovely and relaxed, but today it was damn cold. I chose to sit in the very first row on the second (open air) deck, but I was also worried about seasickness and figured this might help. I am, after all, the person who threw up on the Circle Line ferry to the Statue of Liberty in New York. However, the fierce freezing wind took my mind of all matters of seasickness. I would have given a lot of money for a pair of close-toed shoes, but who brings close-toed shoes on a trip to California? Not me.

The bridge was a little fogged in, but I still took a million pictures. I reminded myself of the time my family went to New York and my sister took about 45,000 pictures of the Statue of Liberty from the ferry, 44,999 which looked exactly the same. Oh well, have to take the pictures when you're there, right?

The Golden Gate Bridge with some fog right before we pass below it.

Alcatraz. I still think it's a creepy place.

After the cruise I got some coffee to warm up, as I was so cold I couldn't use my fingers properly. I then went on my own picture-taking tour of the house where they filmed Mrs. Doubtfire, the Full House opening shot (again), and Haight-Ashbury. I did it all on the public bus and was pretty proud of myself. On the last leg of my journey a man got on the bus, stared at me, and then asked if I was Russian. I said no, but he was obviously Russian, so I didn't want to insult him. He commented that Minnesota was cold (although Russia is probably colder) and then told me to enjoy visiting my boyfriend in San Francisco. Got to say that I've met my share of weirdos, from the lady who took off all her clothes on the street yesterday to the pizza box thrower to my Russian friend, San Francisco has not disappointed.

What ever happened to predictibility? The milkman, the paperboy, evening TV? You miss your old familiar friends, but they're waiting just around the bend. Everywhere you look (everywhere) there's a heart (there's a heart) I'm here to hold on to... I can pretty much see the picnic scene from the opening credits right now.

I saw an old hippie with a peace sign around his neck and a guy trying really, really hard to look like John Lennon during the 5 minutes I was in this neighborhood. Apparently the 60s live forever in San Francisco.

That was pretty much it for me. I'm going to bed so I can get up early tomorrow and start my drive back down to coastline to LA. I can't believe how fast the time has gone up here. San Francisco is pretty happening.

San Fran whirlwind

2008-07-27T00:18:00.007-05:00

Oh man, I toured the crap out of San Francisco today. Considering this morning I had seen nothing of the city and I have now used various forms of transportation, from taxi to electric-powered bus, I feel pretty accomplished.

The first thing on my agenda this morning was ponying up some cash at the parking garage to make sure they didn't steal my rental, or something like that. Too bad I could remember where the garage was exactly and ended up traipsing through what is apparently the not-so-great part of town (otherwise known as the Tenderloin. I KNEW anything named after a cut of meat had to be bad news). As soon as I stepped into the sketchy blocks I got a feeling something was up (maybe it was the prostitute applying makeup in the reflection of a store window. Who knows?) I thought to myself "How funny. The hostel recommends a parking garage in this neighborhood? Well, it IS a hostel.) Yeah, so I was two blocks off, which I found out after 30 minutes of wandering and finally returning to the hostel to get directions from them (what a concept!) By wandering I mean walking with what my guidebook would describe as a "purposeful" step, all the time being "aware of my surroundings." It was before 8 a.m., so, needless to say, I made it out unscathed. I even found my parking garage and paid. Ah, all in a day's work.

After some breakfast at Noah's Bagels (which I've come to know and love on this trip) I decided what I needed was a tour bus. I did wander around the (mostly closed because it was Saturday) financial district, which I took advantage of in the form of using a cash machine, but I had no clue to my orientation on this peninsula.

I went back to the hostel and the very kind desk worker helped me book a trip which departed in 20 minutes. I took a cab to the bus company and I was off. The tour was great and took us to many high points that I might not have been able to reach on my own. We saw the Fisherman's Wharf/dock area, went out to Golden Gate Park, had a photo stop at the bridge, hit up Twin Peaks (which offers great views of the city and the bay), saw the houses from the opening shot of Full House (otherwise known as beautiful Victorian homes--I just love Full House), went to the Civic Center/City Hall area, went past Union Square, learned about the cable cars, and saw a million places in between that I already can't recall. It was a great way to be introduced to the orientation of the city and get a feel for what's out there.

My best shot of the Golden Gate...

View of the city from Twin Peaks.

After the tour I headed up to Pier 39 for a view of what I was promised would include sea lions. I was not disappointed as a dozen or so were sunning themselves on the docks. They even made some noise, which was adorable. It made me miss my cat for some odd reason (or maybe it isn't so odd).

Sea lions!

Then it was cable car time. I bought a one-day pass and took the Powell-Mason line from Fisherman's Wharf down to my hostel area in Union Square. Pretty sweet. I got to sit on one of the outside benches because a sweaty German woman decided she didn't want it at the last minute. Danke schon!

The cable car was pretty much the most fun I've ever had while connected to a cable and I am counting the rope pull at the bunny hill on Spirit Mountain. After I got back I decided I wanted a look at Lombard, otherwise known as the "Crookedest Street." I took the public bus system back to Lombard (go me! I love figuring out public transportation) and got a look at the street from both sides. Insane. Pictures are the only thing that can do it justice.

So here you go...the "Crookedest Street."

After I caught a different bus home (which is where the all-electric bus comes into play. I heart no emissions!) I decided I wanted to see The Dark Knight at the theater near my hostel. I was not the only person with this idea, as several showings were already sold out. I got a ticket for 6:30, which meant there was no time for dinner, and was totally impressed. Honestly, if Heath Ledger hadn't been in the movie I likely wouldn't have gone (I turned off the Batman before this--the one with Katie Holmes and Christian Bale halfway through because I was bored) but it was fantastic. The hype worked for me.

So far only one hostel roomie tonight, which would be nice and restful. The 14-year-old French boys with whom I share a bathroom love to blast hip hop while they shower (walking it out in the tub can be dangerous--watch out!), so I'm sure I'll be up early tomorrow. Things to do, things to do.

One long drive

2008-07-26T09:27:00.003-05:00

So yesterday I embarked on the car trip from Los Angeles to San Francisco. I began the day with my long run by the beach, so I knew I'd be ready to sit for a while. I left my LA hotel around 11 and immediately got into traffic on the freeway. I sat in traffic for the first hour or so, and then finally got free of it and really began my trip.

I was surprised by how fast the surrounding landscape turned into really dry desert, complete with signs warning drivers to turn off their air conditioners for certain stretches of the freeway to avoid overheating engines. There was also several places to stop for radiator water. I started to get a little nervous because I couldn't see myself wandering around on the side of the freeway trying to figure out how to put water in my rental car radiator, but the Prius and I made it through without any problems.

I did stop at the first place I saw to get gas (I think I paid $4.59--a record as far as being the most I've ever paid per gallon). This was my first stop with with hybrid to fill it up and embarrassingly I couldn't find how to open the tank. Luckily it only took a few minutes of searching before I figured it out and I don't think the other drivers knew what an idiot I was, but it was a little stupid of me. Oh well.

After the gas station I went down a hill where the posted signs said the grade was 6% for 5 miles. All the semis had to slow down to 35 mph and it was pretty extreme. There were runaway truck ramps on the side of the road and one of them actually contained a semi that had been required to use it to stop and was being towed out. Exciting for me, probably more exciting for the truck driver.

After the hill I hit flat farmland for the remaining 5 hours of the drive. Incredibly unexciting with very few diversions or even places to stop. I saw orange groves, a cattle area, a million tomato trucks, corn, and many other crops I couldn't identify when driving by. I noticed that I kept seeing the same people on the freeway, so I think almost everyone was going to either San Francisco or Sacramento.

I arrived in San Francisco around 7 p.m. and immediately found it is not a city to drive in. I found my hostel, checked in, and then took my car to their recommended garage. At $17 a night it's supposed to be a "bargain." I can see why I couldn't afford a hotel in this city. Man.

The hostel is okay, but a little too hostely for me. I forgot how much I dislike having random roommates and everyone being on different schedules. The light was turned on three times in the night (once for each roommate who came in after me) and this morning one girl's alarm clock went off four times between 6 and 6:30 a.m. Finally I just got up to use the shower because she'd woken me up and apparently I held her up from using the bathroom before she had to catch her flight. I say if she'd gotten up the first time the alarm went off there wouldn't have been a problem. Another roommate left around 6 a.m. and didn't bother to close the door after herself. Only two more nights of sleeping in a hostel...two more nights...

I'm thinking of taking the more scenic, but slower 101 back to LA on Monday to get a picture of the other side of the mountain range I drove up on. And now, to explore San Francisco.

Yay for the Hollywood sign

2008-07-26T09:17:00.004-05:00

Note: I had this blog entry mostly written on Thursday, but was so tired I just went to bed without posting it. I know I'm behind on here.

I find the sunrises in SoCal slightly disturbing. Well, maybe it's not the sunrises so much as the time before the sun comes up with it's foggy/smoggy because everything has a slightly greenish tinge to it. Apparently that's what life is like when you live just below the emissions limits, eh?

I started this morning with a quick run and it's refreshing to be so close to a sea breeze. Got to love being out of the Midwestern humidity for a few days. I knew I had a Hollywood walking tour booked for later in the afternoon, so I planned out a day where I would see Beverly Hills in the morning and Hollywood in the afternoon.

I have to say that I'm loving the GPS unit in my car and I'm pretty sure I would have been completely lost without it. I don't have the mad map skills to read and negotiate busy seven lane freeways. If someone does have that ability I'd love to see it in action.

Anyway, when I got on the road at 10 a.m. I did not expect to hit full-on traffic, but it turns out I have a lot to learn about LA driving. A 10-mile journey took the better part of 45 minutes, but every mile stuck in traffic makes me exponentially happier that I ponied up the extra cash for a hybrid. It's definitely worth it, especially when I'm just sitting among cars and it can actually switch over to just running on electric. I feel like this town was built for hybrid cars, or at least it should be. Sadly, I also noticed today that there are a number of signs on the side of the freeway talking about electric car recharging stations. No, that's not the sad part. The sad part is that these signs are mention in the documentary "Who Killed the Electric Car" when the steps California had taken to incorporate this technology were discussed and now these stations sit mostly unused. All right, I'm off my soapbox.

So when I finally made it up to Beverly Hills I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to find reasonably priced (read: free!) parking. I hit up Rodeo Drive first and found girls with small dogs and large purses. Really, I wouldn't lie about this. I also saw some terribly inappropriate Ugg boots (it was in the 90s today), but at least I think she was a tourist. Again, I was pretty much the only American tourist around, but it makes me feel special :)

I walked around Beverly Hills a bit, took some pictures, drove up to Graystone Mansion, which is owned by the city of Beverly Hills and has been the site of filming for The Bodyguard and Indecent Proposal. I also saw the Beverly Hills Hotel before heading off to my tour.

I did overhear a woman on the street in the residential area of Beverly Hills telling someone that "That's my mom. She always wants me to show more boob." Believe me, this woman was showing plenty.

GPS took me right down Sunset, so I got to see all the billboards and sites the the Chateau Marmont, which I won't have time to get back to on this trip. I was one of the more exciting drives I've done for a while.

I don't know why, but I was surprised when I parked at Hollywood and Highland and came out into a massive, massive crowd of tourists. I was able to locate my tour HQ and get my headphones to hear the guide. I enjoyed the tour and found that by using my own two legs (that is, booking a walking tour instead of a bus tour) I was able to save over half. Bus tours are expensive! We hit up the major points around Hollywood and Highland and I was satisfied.

After the tour I walked down to Hollywood and Vine to take a picture of Capitol Records. They're right when they say that Hollywood Blvd gets sketchy fast after you leave the major two tourist blocks. Although there were other tourists wandering around looking at the stars on the ground I found that each block I walked was starting to look a little more grimy and a little less like I wanted to be wandering around there. I did get all the way down to Vine and back without any problems and I saw no less than three separate Scientology stops along the way. Apparently the Scientologists are going to save the neighborhood. Odd.

After I left Hollywood it took we almost two hours to get back to El Segundo (15 miles or so) in LA rush hour traffic. Yeah, got to love it. I've found that no matter what time I get on the freeway, even if it's 11 in the morning, there's always stop and go traffic. Not sure how the people who live here deal with it.

Tomorrow I make the 6-7 hour drive to San Francisco and I'm excited to go see NoCal (do they call it that? Well, I do now.) I'll also be in a hostel which I'm sure won't be as nice as having my own room, but the summer hotel prices in San Fran are beyond ridiculous.

Also, I finally figured out that the reason I couldn't get a place to stay in San Diego this past weekend is because it's Comic-Con. Probably better I'm not in that city, anyway :)

I'm still here...

2008-07-25T00:16:00.001-05:00

I am wiped out and have half an entry written, so will plan on posting it when I can re-read and make sure it's not complete crap. Touristing is hard work :)

Touchdown in LA LA Land

2008-07-23T21:15:00.005-05:00

Things I learned today:

1. When someone wants to change seats with you on a place, make sure the seat they're offering you is actually their assigned seat and not just a random seat. It will save embarrassment when the proper owner of the seat comes along and asks why you're sitting in it. Also, you will likely not get stuck with a middle seat when you went online and specifically reserved an aisle seat to combat feelings of claustrophobia.

2. Alamo car rental company is actually helpful. What a concept!

3. Running by the ocean rules when the wind is coming off the water and making the air lovely and cool.

4. I have OCD when it comes to thinking that I've either locked my keys in the car, forgotten my room key, or both. I actually think I already knew this one, but it kicks into high gear when I'm in an unfamiliar state alone.

5. People talking on cell phones on the beach in Santa Monica are hilarious. Arranging blind dates with some third party while saying they might possibly show up really late and talking about how hard they work while showing off a pair of Under Armor briefs below some running shorts are good ways to make me think you're a major douchebag. Also, I actually saw an old dude with a metal detector and a guy calling himself Mr. Bubbleman who had an automated bubble machine set up, as well as a sign asking for tips, but who was just reading a book and sitting there. He actually chased away a small boy popping the bubbles. I don't think Mr. Bubbleman deserves any tips.

6. LA drivers really are insane. I've never been passed so much, had people turn from non-turning lanes, or blatantly run lights as I've seen in my eleven hours here.

7. Also, I might be one of the only American tourists around. I've seen (heard) a ridiculous amount of people from one of the British Isles and/or Australia. Since everything is half price for them right now, I'm sure they're not suffering quite so much from the mere parking prices ($7 to park at the beach!).

8. No matter how smart I think I might be, the GPS device is smarter than me. Oops.

Landing on the plane brought us through the LA smog, but after seeing the smog in Mexico City I'm not too concerned. One can't see the mountains that aren't too far out the door, but at least I don't feel like I may possibly keel over when I walk up a flight of stairs.

So far I'm enjoying my Cali experience. A decent, quiet hotel, a beautiful nearby beach and running path, and my awesome Prius rental are making me a happy camper. Traveling alone has meant I'm doing whatever the heck I want to do and I'm liking that. After I picked up my rental car (which was a minor debacle after they gave me the keys to a pre-reserved and unavailable Prius, then had no more Priuses on the lot, but did find one for me) I headed toward my hotel, which is extremely close to LAX in El Segundo (and was extremely on sale on hotels.com). Since it was too early to check in I headed for the beach, which I knew was close. Upon arrival I spotted a running path, so decided to run right then and there.

After changing in a port-a-john (which was a little gross; I'm choosing not to think about it) I hit up the trail. It really is much cooler by the beach, with a nice little breeze to keep me happy. Nothing beats a run where, at the end, you get to go dip your feet in the Pacific Ocean. Sweetness.

After the run I had little choice but to check into the hotel because a shower was desperately needed. Luckily they had a room for me even before check-in time, so I was set. A nice British couple did come and try to open my door with their key, but I stopped them and told them it was already occupied. A little unsettling, but there's a deadbolt on the door. Plus the key wasn't working, so I'm figuring it was user error.

I spent the afternoon in Santa Monica, which was beautiful. Gorgeous beach, boardwalk, and the Third Street Promenade was a decent way to spend two lovely hours. On the way home I got a sampling of LA freeway traffic and I can't say it was a delight. A seven mile journey took me over 45 minutes, but I may have deviated from the GPS path, driven in a circle, and found myself back on the freeway because I thought I was pretty smart. Yeah, there's a reason I'm paying for GPS, huh?

I'm thinking tonight I'm going to journey out for some Pinkberry, since I'm a massive fan of frozen yogurt, and then probably go to bed early since I got up at 2 am Pacific time. I'm in the processing of booking a kitschy Hollywood tour tomorrow, which should satisfy my inner Hollywood gossip.

Me at the beach in Santa Monica. I'm concentrating on the self shot and can't smile :)

LAX sign.

LAX sign again. I feel like it's cool. I'm probably alone in this.

A bunch of shots of the beach at Santa Monica to follow.

So pretty.

Boardwalk at Santa Monica.

Walking path full of British tourists and crazies.

Boardwalk from a distance.

The beach. I can't get over how cool it is.

The edge of the businesses in Santa Monica.

Beach again. Awesomeness.

Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica.

Crazy dinosaur fountain in Santa Monica.

Gas prices in LA. Yuck.

2008-02-26T21:41:00.002-06:00

So I sometimes wonder if it's something about being in your early(ish) twenties that makes a person want to randomly pick up and move. Maybe it's the never-ending winter, or maybe it's just because part of the reason I stayed in this state was to pull myself together after a traumatic relationship and be guaranteed to have friends around and several of these friends are now leaving to begin new adventures, but I suddenly feel the urge to get the hell out of dodge.
What would happen if I stayed here and then suddenly found I couldn't ever get out? Yeah, I think I may be searching out school programs in other states for fall 2009. Exciting...

Update

2007-06-26T19:42:00.000-05:00

So just after I posted what I entitled "Inertia" I found out that I'm being moved in my position at work. I have a week and a half left at my current job and then I begin training on something new. I'm unreasonably excited just to have a new challenge put in front of me. I really don't have much of an idea what I'll be trained into doing, but for now I'm just happy to be given the opportunity to learn something new.

I currently throwing myself into the apartment/roommate search for fall. Right now my main resoure is Craig's List, but I welcome further suggestions.

This post is a dull update after being away for so long, but the intense heat in my apartment is killing me. I can sweat through my clothes while just sitting on the couch. Pleasant.

I promise more with a twist of interesting very soon. Very soon.

Hey, I have that!

2007-06-15T15:08:00.000-05:00

The other week I was driving through some part of NE Minneapolis when a familiar shirt caught my eye. I did a double-take out the car window to see a woman dressed in the green Bennies shirt that were for sale my sophomore year of college. I'm a particular fan of the green Bennies shirt because it's such a great shade of green.

Any time I see someone in Bennie or Johnnie gear I also stop to see if I recognize said person. Due to my college being fairly small and isolated there is usually a good chance I will at least recognize the person.

In this instance, however, the person wearing the green Bennies shirt was clearly a homeless person who hadn't been able to wash it for quite a few days. I can't explain exactly why, but it was an odd experience all together.

Seriously, what is going on?

2007-06-12T19:21:00.000-05:00

Okay, so on my way home tonight there was a man on a corner near my apartment signing to himself. At first I thought he must be signing to someone in a car, but since I was waiting at a red light and he signed in several directions while not receiving any answer I could see I'm pretty sure he was just a crazy man. Is this the deaf person's way of being crazy? As in somewhat equivilent to crazy hearing person's muttering to him or herself?

I'm not saying deaf people don't have the right to be crazy people too. I'm just saying I've never seen one before. AND this was just a crazy person-sighting type of day.

What is she? Is that?

2007-06-12T12:50:00.000-05:00

This morning as I was coming off the freeway exit ramp onto the fairly industrial street when my company is located I noticed something odd at the bottom of the ramp. A pedestrian! Now, this type of character is very rare in these parts as usually people drive from one building to the next, usually literally less than a block.

However, this pedestrian was especially odd. It was 7:30 in the morning and she was decked out in dress capris, a too-short cotton shirt (and no one really needed to see what she had under said shirt) and dirty tennies. She didn't appear to have any sort of purse or bag, nor did she appear to be working out. In fact, she was actually crocheting as she walked.

Yup, crochet hook, yarn and the occassional glance downward was all this woman needed to construct what looked like a potholder on her way, well, I don't actually have a clue where she was headed. Didn't looked dressed for work, but we have had some odd-looking temps around the office as of late.

Anyway, oddest thing I've seen on my way to work yet.

Inertia

2007-06-11T20:25:00.000-05:00

Last summer I spent my time outside, tending to a massive flower garden and working for the city parks department. Although there were several occassions where I questioned whether I would sweat to death before the day was out, and suffered through more than one coworker spat (both involving me and not involving me) which I'll chalk up to heat and a boss with a split personality, I found the work satisfying. I could take people there after I was off for the day (amazing being that I wanted to return somewhere I'd already spent the majority of the day) and show them exactly what I had spent my time accomplishing.

That kind of satisfaction is something I could really use right now. Blah.

I just wanted a nice latte

2007-06-04T13:42:00.000-05:00

On Saturday morning I woke up with a tremendous headache. I'd had it when going to bed the night before, but attributed it to tiredness, dehydration, and the end of a long work week. After I woke up with it on Saturday it was pointed out to me that it was probably the result of caffeine withdrawal--a valid point since I hadn't had caffeine since Wednesday.
So, off I went to Starbucks. By the time I managed to shower, dress and walk down there it was well past the noon hour. It was also incredibly muggy (when HASN'T it been incredibly muggy recently?) and the sun was downright hot. The six or so blocks to the 'Bucks weren't entirely pleasant.
After arriving at my local coffee house I went to the counter and ordered per normal. I tend to get coffee at this same location three to four (or more) times a week. I noted a woman walking away from the counter with a drink as the only other customer ordering.
I told the barista what I thought would best cure my headache and moved over to the pick-up area. Almost instantly, the barista making the coffee called out my drink. Thinking it had been awfully quick I reached out for the straw, and decided that it must have come so fast since it was iced coffee.
All of the sudden the barista preparing the coffee shouted "that's not yours!" In my headache state I was completely shocked and dropped everything like a hot potato. The lady who I had seen at the counter when I came in (who, mind you, was alone and was already holding one drink and was NOT waiting in the pick-up area) came over and snatched the coffee. Our exchange as follows:
To me: "Oh, did you get the same thing?"
Me: "No. Yes. Yes, I did."
To me: "Oh, sorry."
Me: "Sorry."
Wait awkward amount of time...say 4 seconds"
Me: "Oh, it's okay."
Yeah, it totally sounded like I was reassuring myself that it was okay. The lady who actually owned the drink turned and stared (as I probably would have too. What am I, a sweating, crazy drink-stealer?).
I think I turned an attractive shade of purple and pretended to be really absorbed in studying the coffee cups for sale until my actual drink had been made. The whole exchange made me feel like a home-schooled kid who hadn't been to the big city. Seriously.

I'm still here

2007-06-04T10:19:00.001-05:00

I know, it's been forever since I posted. No internet at home really makes these things difficult. However, I do have an appointment for internet installation this Friday, so after that point I should be back up and running. In the meantime, I will continue to be incredibly isolated as I had my cable taken out last week and now rely on my friend NBC, ABC and CBS to keep me informed.

It's an addiction...

2007-05-29T15:07:00.000-05:00

Last week the neighbors who live directly below me moved out. At first I thought this event was a bonus for me in several ways:
1. They own a giant dog who barks all the time. He's so big he shakes my floor when he barks and drives the cat crazy. I was home sick one day last week and he barked for two solid hours when his owners weren't home.
2. They gave me their window air conditioning unit for free when they left. Maybe to make up for all the barking?
3. I no longer have to feel bad when I accidentially drop things early in the morning or kick books off my bed at night. Both are inevitable happenings.
4. They had a surround sound system and would watch action movies. Every Sunday. All. Day. Long.

However, a few hours after they departed a discovered a very sad reason why their leaving was such sad sorrow for me. Apparently the internet signal I've been using since I moved in was coming from their apartment. No more neighbors, no more internet. Hence my lack of posting over the holiday weekend.

Last night I was so desperate to check my email that I drove down the street to a parking space I knew would pick up a free wireless signal and used said signal from my car. Sad, I know.

I've spent most of today investigating paying for internet and the news is not good. Someone really needs to challenge the local communication monopoly because they want to charge me over $45 a month for internet, plus installation fees. All this after I just downgraded my cable (watching less TV is a good thing, life does go on without DVR) and was charged $10. To downgrade! Jerks.

Look Ma! Water be comin' from that there sky!

2007-05-23T14:36:00.000-05:00

I've discovered a great new distraction at work. The weather! Okay, so this definitely isn't a new distraction. Rather, it's something that most people in offices seem to focus on. This is somewhat ironic since we spend our entire day locked in a climate-controlled, recirculted-air environment.

Anyway, this afternoon around 2 the skies got dark, the wind began to blow, and then the rain moved in. Our first indication that something might be up came when our power flickered more than once. Everyone immediately jumped on their weather radar of choice to see what was up. I myself trust Kare 11, so I tuned into their radar. Sure enough, it was raining. As though we couldn't see that outside.

When I worked outside inclement weather meant we might have to move things inside, tie things down, or herd people to safety. Here it means very little. In fact, our tornado shelter is 3/4 windows. I kid you not. If I actually think a tornado might come I'm definitely trampling some old lady coworkers to reach the shelter area actually NOT by the windows.

Anyway, the weather provided everyone with a great 10 minutes to run from window to window, yelling such astute comments as "Whoa! Look at that rain!" and "The wind is blowing!". Welcome to Minnesota summers, my friends.

Wait, did I mention I was stationed at the window and running over to the next row of cubes to report the tornado warning in the area? I'm not above the comments, just merely able to see my own ridiculousness.

Grrrrr

2007-05-21T15:19:00.000-05:00

All day I've been working on a pressing issue with someone. I get a phone call this afternoon telling me it's within minutes of being resolved. Then what do I get, mere moments later? An out of office message.

Not cool.

There's really no need to check it twice

2007-05-21T15:02:00.001-05:00

In an effort to somewhat better my mind, I'm in the process of making a summer reading list. I've so far complied books I own and have on my pile to read, new titles by authors I enjoy, the books on the list we're reading for my book club, and a couple of classics I've always meant to get around to reading.

The problem is that once I make some sort of list, I feel as though I begin plowing through it just to get things ticked off the list, as is my personality. I see it as a personal challenge because I don't like having things not done on a list. However, I want to remember to enjoy the books I'm reading and not just read to check them off.

Anyway, I've got to make some sort of a goal this summer so I don't end up enveloped in the warm glow of the TV all the time. Not good for my mind :)

Hello, it's me

2007-05-18T14:10:00.000-05:00

My phone voice was something that I began developing in early high school without ever really realizing I was prepping myself for my future "career." As a dedicated member of the speech team, I developed a voice which scares the crap out of me just a little, but makes me approachable and friendly-sounding. At least I like to think so.

By the way, I was not only a member of the speech team, but a captain. And a giant nerd. Literally giant before any of the boys had grown in high school. Shocker, I know.

Anyway, My work study job during college involved (wo)manning the phones at a campus office for four years. This is where I really learned about phone voice, whether I'm being yelled at or complimented. Then, right out of college, I had pretty much an admin job so that I could work abroad. Then I got to test out the American phone voice with accents of all kinds. How exciting!

In my current position I also often have to be on the phone trying to talk people into doing things they'd rather not do. Hmmm, that doesn't sound like I want it to. I mean I'm trying to convince people to open up delivery appointments or put 40,000 pounds worth of pies on a truck. In the next hour.

So, my phone voice is all but perfect. Even if I'm incredibly annoyed I like to think no one can tell. If a friend ever happens to call my work line they instantly start laughing. My phone voice is really something that I look forward to shedding someday.

OMFG!

2007-05-18T09:50:00.001-05:00

Very exciting news on the work front. Our dinosaur heavy-duty stapler has somehow been mysteriously replaced by a new, shiny, made-in-the-last-year years heavy-duty stapler. What is sad is that this is so far the highlight of my Friday morning.

Wait for it, wait for it...

2007-05-16T15:07:00.000-05:00

I just wrote an entire piece concerning how I feel about corporate life, but then realized I should actually wait to post it until I don't need my job's current health insurance. Something to look foward to, I guess.

Maybe that $100,000 college degree will be put to good use

2007-05-14T21:23:00.000-05:00

One of my pet peeves is when someone tells me they "never watch TV" in a snotty tone, like they just know that I do watch TV and because of that I am a lesser human being. Oh, please, let me be as cool as you so I can look down my nose at everyone who knows the names of the people on the latest season of the Real World (guilty) or wants to know whether Locke is actually dead. It's fine if you don't watch TV, and I know there are alot of people out there who are genuinely uninterested or too busy to spend time with the talking box.

I would like to think that I am not a great consumer of television. However, if I allowed myself to believe that statement I would only be leading myself further into the depths of self-deception. I do like TV. I get attached to shows, I feel like I know characters, and I think TiVo is one of man's greatest inventions to this point. Seriously. So maybe I'm just hearing these snotty tones in my head and taking offense because I feel as though I may be judged by the televisionless person. Or not. You be the judge.

As of late I've felt as though I'm slowly losing my mind and I blame it on a combination of booze, TV, and the confusion of being in my early 20s. I realize that TV is a great distractor, but once I flip it off my overactive mind comes out to play. Having been sent into dormancy while watching Brooke's latest rant on the Real World Denver, I have not only managed to lose a half hour of my life that I'll never get back, but I've also allowed my mind to flip off. Somehow, when the switch for my mind is turned back on thoughts don't just trickle in, the floodgates are literally opened. Pretty sure the levees of my mind are pretty much irrepairable at this point. Plus I have a knack for excessive worrying which I can prove is genetic.

What is the point of the long rant in the last paragraph, one might wonder? Well, I've basically come to the conclusion that I need to spend more of my free time reading and come the end of the this television season I am (gulp) canceling my cable and thus losing my TiVo.

Tonight, as I worked on on latest fun read, I came to the realization that even though I wasn't reading Hemingway or Chaucer, my mind felt active and alive. I was processing my own stories, felt inspired to write blog postings, and was composing scenes for the Next Great American Novel in my head. I am alive! That last Miller Lite did NOT kill off as many brain cells as I had once feared.

Really, it's an unbeatable feeling. My goal for the summer is to keep it up so I feel sharp and ready as fall approaches.

P.S. Entirely unrelated, but Patches is, at the moment, eating red ants which have somehow busted in my second story apartment and are crawling across my floor. Don't know how good that is for her, but I guess she won't be starved for protein, eh?

I'm hungry, but yet, not

2007-05-14T15:25:00.000-05:00

I’m having a bit of a food conundrum. I enjoy eating very much and sadly, it is often the most exciting part of my day. This is especially true during my work day when lunch offers the chance to get away from my desk. However, I despise cooking for one person. There’s something about coming home at night and staring at a bunch of uncooked, unprepared food which causes my appetite to disappear.

Lately this has been especially bad. I can’t even muster up the energy to make it to the grocery store, much less think of meals. I’m sick of battling soccer moms and angry old people just to get the same old pasta that I’m not even really looking forward to eating. Buying food that’s hot and ready is just so much more appealing.

I can hear my mom’s voice echoing in my head right now telling me about wasted money, not to mention calories, sodium and all that good stuff. It just tastes so much better when I don’t have to make it. I think this also may be tied to the fact that I often buy dishes I don’t know how to make. What can I say, I have exotic taste buds. Well, at least by Minnesota standards.

Tonight I’m faced with the fact that I literally have no edible food in my cupboards. Last night I finished off what I had left by preparing a scrumptious dish of whole wheat penne and enchilada sauce. Yeah, it was disgusting.

I have no idea what I’ll do to break out of this food funk.

NOT the best part of waking up

2007-05-14T09:54:00.001-05:00

The saga of the cats continues. I’ve been checking on my parents’ cat (which here I will term Lucifer) every couple of hours to make sure she hasn’t suffocated in her chose living quarters of my coat closet. She can get in and out (the door doesn’t even latch if I wanted it to, so no danger of that), but every time I try to pick her up or even get within 10 feet of her she hisses, growls and makes other alarming cat noises. I almost lost a limb trying to retrieve my vacuum cleaner from the closet.

Last night I woke up at about 3 am to the feeling someone was watching me. When I looked down the bed there was one set of cat eyes near my feet (my cat, who I’ll term Patches). Then, in a frightening realization, aglow in the light of the neighbor’s patio lighting, I could see another set of eyes shimmering near the door. Yup, Lucifer had emerged.

I congratulated Lucifer on her appearance and rolled over to go back to sleep. However, Lucifer had different plans. About 20 minutes later I was jolted awake by a heavy thud, and a terrifying hissing noise about 5 inches from my head. Apparently Lucifer wanted to sleep on my bed, but she wanted me out of it first. She came at me, paws out, and I grabbed the nearest weapon. It was unfortunately Scottsie, my beloved black Scottie dog stuffed animal which I’ve owned since about second grade and never before even considered sacrificing. However, this was a matter of survival. I covered my exposed forehead with one hand and lunged Scottsie forth with the other.

Lucifer put up a good fight, but Scottsie emerged the victor and beat Lucifer back down off the bed. Patches watched this whole incident from her vantage point somewhere near my feet. Lucifer managed to strike a fear into both of our hearts, so as soon as Lucifer had been beaten back Patches and I huddled the rest of the night for both our safety.

When I got up this morning Lucifer had returned to her closet home and greeted me with a good morning hiss. 7 days and counting until she returns to her home lair.

Sunday round-up

2007-05-13T19:53:00.000-05:00

I'm currently suffering the consequences of having a backlog of information I meant to write down, but not actually having done so. As much as I was sure I could remember everything I'd wanted to record in the past few days, turns out that's not the case. I should have known better.

I realized about 10 minutes ago that I haven't talked to a single person today with the exception of a cashier at Kowalski's and my cat. I think it may be time for me to get a roommate. I don't function well under these circumstances.

My parents are currently in Europe, so I have their cat while they're gone. My cat is none too happy about this situation, and neither is our visiting cat. She's currently taken up residence in my coat closet and has not come out since some time last night. I moved her food and water in there, as well as a bed, but I feel like her residing there for over a week is not going to be healthy. Why I try to move her she clings to me and cries, and then runs for the nearest cover. I guess she'll be a closet-dweller for the next week. I hope she doesn't lose the ability to see in daylight.

The other day there was a perosn on Grand waiting for the bus who pretty much defied explanation. It was a fairly warm day, so she had taken it upon herself to cut the sleeves and most of the actual t-shirt length off of something which looked like something I used to rock in the early 90s. She had definitely been trying out some different home hair dye colors (or maybe just straight-up bleach) and well as what also looked like a home perm kit. Apparently dissatisfied with the results, she had fixed her hair into two pigtails...on top of her head.

Did I mention this person was, how shall I say this, not of supermodel proportions? This, combined with frightening posture, and what looked to be some profuse sweating, made for the kind of sight which causes double takes when driving. Just one of those things one doesn't easily forget.

Help me!

2007-05-09T22:05:00.000-05:00

Can I just mention that I'm watching Lost with my hands over my eyes because it's scaring the crap out of me? Living alone is for the birds.

Seriously

2007-05-09T21:55:00.000-05:00

There's just some information a person can go an entire lifetime without ever having to learn. I seemed to be doomed in my workplace positioning, as I am constantly plagued by neighbors "blessed" with the gift of gab. I recently had one such neighbor leave, and I threw myself a little celebration party. Finally, I wouldn't have to spend my days hearing about (and I kid you not) hormone replacement therapy, mammograms, husbands who sleep in different beds, new and old diets, vitamins, and what someone had eaten for lunch. Every. day. that. week.

Apparently the universe was sending me giant "not so fast" signals. My new neighbor moved in this week and I've gotten to hear about a whole new set of issues. Preganancies, hobbies, what someone has eaten for dinner the previous night, and other such sorted subjects are now the focus of my day. By focus I mean I do everything I can to tune it out, but instead feel like hitting my head on the desk because the pain would be more pleasant than the conversation topics overtaking my being.

The last straw came when body art was discussed. Apparently my new neighbor has a penchant for tattoos and decided to share his artwork with the rest of his coworkers. This included discussing a tattoo placed "too close to the nipple" and a graphic display of aforementioned tattoo.

Yup, definitely could have lived me entire life without that display.

It's only really annoying because they're so LOUD

2007-05-09T08:56:00.001-05:00

I’m pretty sure my neighbor is allowing a bunch of random people to stay with her in her apartment. I was clued into this a few weeks ago when my doorbell rang at about 9:00 on a Wednesday evening. My first clue was the fact that technically I don’t have a doorbell. There are three doorbells outside my building (which definitely has more than three units) and none of them are labeled with my apartment number. Anyone who wants to hang out with me either comes in with me or calls me when they arrive.

Anyway, my doorbell started going off, which makes the cat pin her ears back and run around the apartment like her tail is on fire. Her favorite kind of running involves leaping up on my coffee table, knocking off everything laying there, and then leaping back off again. So, doorbell rings, cat flips out, and I’m instantly annoyed.

I’m also conscious of the fact that I’m pretty sure the door isn’t for me and I’m not going to just run downstairs and rip the door open. I went out in the hallway and peeked out the large window which faces the front of the building. Down below I could see two men wandering around who I had definitely never seen before. Yeah, I was most certainly not going to go answer that doorbell ring.

Too bad for me these guys were pretty determined. Instead of going away when no one answered the door they decided the next best technique was to hold their finger on the doorbell. I had about had it at that point and went downstairs. Below is the dialogue that followed:

Me (opening door): “Can you please stop ringing my doorbell?”
Dude #1: “Hey, is Polly Pocket* here?”
Me: “I don’t know. You’re ringing my doorbell and I need you to stop.”
Dude #1: “Polly Pocket? Apartment D2?”
Me: “I don’t know. I’ll check, but you need to stop ringing my doorbell.”
Dude #1: “We’ll just come inside.”
Me: “Uh, no, I can’t let you in. I’ll see if Polly’s here, but you have to wait outside.”

It was at this point that I went to check for Polly. She didn’t answer her door after repeated knocking, so I went back to the front door.

Me: “Polly’s not here, sorry.”
Dude #1: “We’ll come inside and wait.”
Me: “No, she’s not here and I can’t just let you in.”
Dude #1, gesturing to Dude #2 who has been silent through this whole exchange: “He’s come a long way.”
Me: “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to call Polly. I won’t let you in.”

*names changed to protect, well, who am I kidding, names changed to protect myself

Then I closed the door (tightly) and left. The dudes hung around outside for about 10 more minutes (probably waiting to see if someone else would come home and let them in) and then took off.

Since that point I’ve heard a vast amount of noise coming from Polly’s apartment every single time I walk by the place. In addition, our back door has been propped open for extended periods of time more than once where no one appears to be around.

Finally, this morning as I was opening my curtains, I heard something outside. When I looked out the window, low and behold, there are my dude friends from a few weeks ago with another guy, congregated in front of the building. Not sure exactly what’s going on, but I don’t like it. Did I mention that we have a clause in our lease which states we can’t have any one guest stay over for more than one night at a time? Maybe I need to move to a building with fewer crazy single ladies…

She's not going to be happy...

2007-05-08T21:51:00.000-05:00

My apartment building doesn't have too many units, but two are them are occupied by women I'm pretty sure are certified cat ladies. One of them was the one who had my keys when I was supposed to move in, and it was from the point I retrieved them from her that she entered my life and has yet to leave.

On the day I was moving in I was waiting with my mom and a friend in my living room on my new futon when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was my dad trying to get in we yelled such choice things as "Go away! We don't want any!" and "No housekeeping here!". After we got no response I opened the door to find Cat Lady on the other side, slinking away. She was coming to tell me a few rules about living in the building which were apparently essential to my well-being. I had no idea I was signing up for dorm life all over again.

In late October there was a knock on my door on a Sunday evening. I opened it to see Cat Lady once again. Apparently I had been parking my car too far to the right and not leaving enough room for the snow pile. Remember all the snow in October? And November? And December? Oh yeah, that's right, there wasn't any.

After standing there getting my lecture during which I could only nod complacently and act as though I was incredibly concerned about my parking habits I promised to park with the apartment rules. Keep in mind I pay more than $50 a month for the privilege of following these rules.

So imagine my surprise when I arrived home this evening to discover an unfamiliar car parked 3/4 in my neighbor's parking space and 1/4 in my parking space. I assumed my neighbor just had an unfamiliar car for some reason. Nope, not the case, as I saw them pull up a few moments later with a look of confusion. Just wait until the Cat Lady gets to this visitor...

Frankie says relax, dammit!

2007-05-07T17:09:00.000-05:00

I had an eye appointment this morning. I absolutely despise eye appointments, but about a year ago I managed to lose my reading glasses and as of late I have been developing the headaches which the reading glasses were designed to prevent. I also figured I should probably take advantage of my insurance while it is available to me.

The exam started off pretty typically with me filling out a form about my eye history. The doctor seemed a little disgusted that I'd managed to lose a pair of glasses, so I felt it was necessary to explain that I'm pretty sure customs took them out of my suitcase and forgot to replace them. At least I think so. At least it sounds better than me irresponsibly forgetting to pack them somewhere along the road during my months abroad.

Anyway, in the middle of my explanantion about customs the doctor interrupted "so, you don't have the glasses with you then." Um, no dude, that's what I'm explaining to you.

We went through the normal paces with me covering one eye, reading, covering the other, reading through different lenses, talking about which view was clearer. Then things took a turn for the worse.

"I'm going to give you some drops, check for glaucoma, then dialate you eyes." Did I forget to mention that I absolutely flip out if people touch my eyes? I can't stand eye drops, I don't like fingers coming toward me, anything. The doctor manages to get one drop in my right eye before I start twitching like a crazy person. He goes for the left eye, and it's all over. I scrunch the eye shut and yell droplets run all down my face, pulling my eyeliner and mascara with them. The doctor pries open my left eye and tries again. This time at least something gets inside.

Then I have to sit with my chin in a light contraption while the doctor PUTS A LIGHT ON MY EYEBALL. Yeah, right. He tries it with the right eye, which I immediately scrunch shut. Dialogue as follows:
Dr: "Relax."
Me (nervous giggling): "I'm trying, I don't like having my eyes touched."
Doctor tries again to touch my eye with the machine. I now have involuntary tears running down my cheeks, which are dyed yellow.
Dr: "RELAX! Keep both eyes OPEN!"
Me (still giggling, feeling like a special needs employee): "Seriously, I can't control it. I don't like my eyes touched."
Dr: "BOTH EYES OPEN!"

Yeah, because yelling makes me so relaxed. After he finally semi-checked for glaucoma (pretty sure I'm a little young for that test anyway) he goes to put in the dialating eyedrops. Without warning he grabs my right eyelid and inserts not one, not two, but THREE eyedrops. Then he goes for the left. Suffiice it to say, that was at 10 this morning and I'm currently still sporting the sunglasses and it took me three hours to be able to see enough to clear the eyedrop gunk off my face.

Ode to corporate life

2007-05-07T13:10:00.000-05:00

Working in corporate America does something to one's personality which makes them go a little off.

Last week I hadn't gotten the chance to eat any breakfast and I was working on one of the weekly 35+ page faxes that I have to handle. After I'd sent it through the fax I went into the supply room to use the heavy-duty stapler. In a behemoth corporation like the one in which I work you would only assume that we could at least have up-to-date office supplies. Not the case here. This heavy-duty stapler is a relic left from the 1970s. How it still exists here, I have no idea. Someone must have gone to the trouble of actually moving this thing, since the building I work in wasn't constructed until the 90s. I often have to send out large faxes which then have to be kept on file, so I am often in need of the relic stapler. Apparently I'm not the only one, because I've gone in there to use it multiple times only to find it devoid of staples.

Such was the case last week, and it really rubbed me the wrong way. Filling this stapler is unreasonably difficult, as it only fits about 12 staples at a time and there is a 75% chance the stapler-filler will end up stapling his/her own fingers during the filling process. I spent 10 minutes grappling with this "machine", the entire time cursing the last person who had obviously given up on their attempt to complete this desk. Between the lack of breakfast and hitting my head on the cupboard door I had opened myself 30 seconds earlier I finished this task breathing heavily, bleeding and completely pissed off.

Don't worry, I did manage to declare victory over the evil relic stapler, although I did leave the supply room and stop at one of my coworkers cubes to declare my hatred for office supplies. He was polite (or frightened by my appearance) enough not to laugh in my face when I proceeded to talk about how much I hated the stapler for 10 minutes, but this morning I did receive the following email from him:

"The more I think about it, you complaining about having to reload the industrial-sized stapler was the high-light of last week."

This is what corporate America has turned us into.

Excuse any typos, I'm too lethargic to proofread

2007-05-03T17:02:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wonder where all my energy goes during the day. I'll be zipping along just fine and then all of a sudden I'm crashing into the metaphorical brick wall and metaphorically burning. I can't even muster up the strength to turn to the New York Times online and that it just a sad statement about life.

I also feel zapped creatively. I rack my brain to come up with something I can deem worthy of even attempting to write and I find myself coming up empty. Perhaps my daily atmosphere is an actual cause of writer's block.

It can't possibly be like this in every office. What about marketing people? There's no way they can go for such long periods of time without feeling the slightest bit creative. Are the constantly drinking?

There's something about florescent lights, pumped-in white noise and the sound of people typing which leads me into the hallway of laziness and no brain movement. The other issue is the fact that the nature of my job is to hurry up and wait. Quick, fix this! Oh, wait, you've got to get four different approvals first. What, people aren't responding? Send a follow-up "thressage" with an literal time deadline. That musters a frantic phone call, which leads to more emails, which leads to waiting for more responses. I don't think the human brain was programmed to function this way.

Hey, at least tomorrow's Friday and in the corporate world that means all conversations can include the word's "at least it's Friday!" Look at that, I just typed out a thought and then made fun of the people who have that thought. This can't be good.

I need it, I want it...NOW

2007-05-02T10:00:00.000-05:00

I recently had to go through some training at work where we underwent a personality analysis. Mine, not surprisingly, came back indicating that I have a "dominant personality." Some major characteristics: direct, domineering, daring, demanding, forceful, risk-taker and adventuresome. Apparently this means I am not peaceful, mild, quiet, unsure, dependent or modest.

Most of my results looked like synonym for biatch. Especially when one of the lines about me reads "Criticism is usually easy for you to deliver, as your drive for innovative solutions and perfectionism often relegates social concerns to the background." I was also the only person in my session to end up with this personality label (out of four possible personality choices in a session of about 12 people). When we went around the room to see if everyone agreed with the personality category our results had indicated one of my coworkers responded "oh yeah!" when we came to me.

This got me thinking about my lack of patience. I know that once I decide I want to have or do something I really don't like to wait for it. I can't stand when I feel like other things are holding me up. I think this is why I have such an issue with impulse shopping. I go to Traget, see cute shoes and think that I need to wear them to work tomorrow. Such was the case on Monday night. I ended up wearing the shoes today, but now I feel like they make my feet look like cloven hooves. Stupid strange toe cutouts (which are very fashionable at the moment). Too bad my personality analysis didn't say anything about that trait. I might have actually been able to apply it last week.

When the rearview mirror is vibrating with the beat

2007-04-30T21:30:00.000-05:00

I've wondered for a long time whether I have enough hobbies. Sure, there's always reading and writing, but how come I don't enjoy scrapbooking (I'd sooner glue my own finger together which, ironically, I tend to do when scrapbooking) or knitting or something? Tonight, however, I discovered a little redemption when I came to the conclusion that one of my favorite hobbies is driving my car around town with the radio turned waaay up, singing at the top of my lungs.

Tonight while driving around I composed a mental top 10 list of my current favorite car sing-along songs:

1. Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne. Yeah, it's complete crap, but incredibly catchy. I especially enjoy it right after work when I point at other drivers while Avril shrieks "Hey! You! I don't like your girlfriend!"
2. Beautiful Liar by Beyonce and Shakira. I love Shakira. I wish I was Shakira. Sometimes, after drinking copious amounts, I believe I am Shakira.
3. Give It To Me. Everything Timbaland touches turns to pure pop gold. I love it.
4. SexyBack by Justin Timberlake. This would be higher on the list, but dancing in the car can actually be dangerous and/or embarrassing.
5. Dirrty by Christina Augilera. Christina with a Brooklyn accent? Christina has been made that much better.
6. Ho by Ludacris. Especially when driving with a certain friend who one ups Luda on the lyrics.
7. Spice Up Your Life by the Spice Girls. I wish the Spice Girls would record a new album. The loss of this group as recording artists is up there with the sadness of the end of Sex and the City. I think they say it best when they say "People of the world! Spice up your life! Ahhhhhhh!
8. Wait A Minute by the Pussycat Dolls. Timbaland again. By pure principle I really shouldn't like these girls, but I do for the same reason I watch The Hills and Laguna Beach.
9. Gasolina by Daddy Yankee. The lyrics are just so dang easy to learn.
10. The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani. It's Gwen. I mean, come on, it's Gwen.

At least I can rest easy tonight knowing that I am not a boring person. Chalk another hobby up to the list.

Then Patches opened the fridge and ate some grapes...

2007-04-30T17:39:00.000-05:00

This past winter I was in Super Target at about 9:56 pm on a Sunday (don't worry, it was extended Christmas shopping hours, so I wasn't keeping any employees working at a till who needed to go home). Anyway, I was in purchasing a cat litter box which needed to be procured THAT night and definitely couldn't wait. Long story, sad ending, no need to relive it.

Anyway, when I made it to the cat supply aisle (almost in the back of this behemoth store, how do they expect old fragile cat women to make it that far?) I was horrified to discover that the only cat box available on the self was approximately the size of a mini-fridge and ran something like $35. I searched the shelves desperately for any other option, but the cat box the size of the backseat of my car was all there was to be found. Already feeling like a lonely, desperate woman for even making this sort of purchase (a feeling a relive every time I have to purchase a 20-pound container of litter) to just grabbed the box and hauled it up to the express checkout.

A very nice young man was tending the till who seemed quite befuddled by my purchase. After I set it on the counter (which both sides of which the cat box were actually extending beyond, meaning the entire counter disappeared under my purchase) the young man finally prounced in the LOUDEST voice I have EVER heard "Ohhhhhh! It is for the cat! I see! The cat, he go inside!"

If I could have become Alex Mack and shrunk into a pubble of goo on the floor I would have done so that that moment, even if it meant jeapordizing my genetic makeup for the rest of my life. A college kid in the next aisle buying Spaghetti-O's and Hamburger Helper distinctly smirked. The lady in line behind me leaned over to examine the box, as though this insight was something which had captured her imagination. Never in my life have I felt so catapaulted on the path to crazy old cat-ladyship.

"Ummmm, yup, it's for a cat," was my reply, trying not be be a jerk. The clerk then announced "Oooooooh, you spend so much on the cat. He so expensive! You have lots of money for the cat!" It was at that point that I was pretty sure I was going to get jumped in the parking lot. How sad would that robber be to discover a bunch of receipts and an old student ID?

The clerk muttered to himself for the rest of my seemingly endless transaction about how I was "so nice to the cat" while I pasted on my best Beauty-Pageant-Contestant-even-though-Miss-Bitch-Georgia-just-stepped-on-my-foot-in-stilettos-smile. After finally making it back to the car I threw the catbox in the truck (seriously, it wouldn't go in the backseat) and locked myself in the driver's seat and collasped in giggles. If I couldn't see the humor in the matter, who really could?

Yup, I can fill 'er up for about $30

2007-04-30T17:17:00.000-05:00

When I was considering where it was that I wanted to move after finally gaining the type of employment where I could afford to move out of Casa de Parents I let my personal enjoyment factors far outweight the practical ones. I don't regret this method of decision-making, but I now pay for it with a certain activity I'm going to deem "the rush hour gauntlet." Every day I drive 15 miles one way during the height of rush hour (which should actually be termed rush most-of-the day. Or we could just call the time when there's not traffic the senior hour).

Anyway, I've learned alot about cutting off lines of cars at difficult exit ramps, which lanes to avoid because I don't want to be cut off by someone cutting of lines of cars at difficult exit ramps, where there are giant sinkholes, how to pick the best ramp signal line, and overall to bring my iPod on the car journey so there's far less chance of me FREAKING OUT if I end up sitting for an extra 45 minutes. Or hour. Or two. No, seriously.

Unfortunately, I don't think driving like this is doing a whole lot for my blood pressure. Why is it that when we're behind the wheel we automatically assume that we're God's gift to the road? Don't deny it, you know it's true. I always find myself muttering things like "learn how to drive, [idiot]" or "yeah, that's okay because I definitely wasn't USING this piece of road [jerk]." (Author's note: creative substitution of words may have occurred in the above dialogue.) I'm also constantly scanning for flying mufflers (following an unfortunate incident this past summer) or dudes who think that I'm towing them.

Maybe I would suffer less if my car wasn't the size of a go-kart. However, then I wouldn't be able to go 300+ miles on about 11 gallons of gas. The trade-off appears to be a broke, but confident driver or a budgeted angry little swearer. For now I have made choice B. However, last week a guy who I'm pretty sure was on a filming break from My Name is Earl threatened to shoot me because he bumped the back of my vehicle. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm female and was alone, or maybe it was because my car isn't exactly imposing, but he managed to scare me badly enough that I just drove off and didn't call the cops. Luckily my car wasn't damaged and so far (knock on wood) the bumper hasn't fallen off or anything, but it did make me wish I had been driving an Excursion which would have rolled the hood of his Tauris back like a tin can.

Oh well, the next time I read the credit limits for running your credit card at the gas pump I can gloat again slightly since that much gas doesn't even come close to fitting in little kart, errrr, car.

Because it's 5 o'clock somewhere...

2007-04-30T16:55:00.000-05:00

The posting ideas are coming fast and furious at the moment. From the time I was fairly young I had a glamorous picture of what it would be like to work in an office. I'm almost ashamed to admit it (as I well should be), but a fair amount of my romanticism about office jobs came from the movie Picture Perfect starring Jennifer Aniston. She seemed so cool in her advertising office, wearing kooky hair and picking up multiple good-looking men who happened to work with her. She even made getting dumped seem just so chic. My 12 year-old mind attributed all of that aura to her office work.

What frustrates me in my current life is that fact that I've never held a job where I feel as though my skills and knowledge are actually utilized to any degree whatsoever. In the past, I always attributed it to the fact that I was working jobs where I wasn't expected to have much formal higher education. They were temporary jobs to get the through short time periods.

However, since college graduation (which seems like yesterday, but is actually rapidly approaching two solid years ago) I still haven't managed to find myself a position where anyone seems to care that I have a pretty good brain up there. I think that when we were in a small liberal arts college we were slightly coddled (sometimes more than slightly) and told how special and brillant we really were. Then what did college do to us? Gave us a piece of paper and the heave-ho after just four years. Suddenly we were playing with the big dogs and their big degrees and connections. During the three months that I was job searching I sometimes felt like it would help me to jump up and down waving my resume and screaming "Look at me! Over here! Look at all my qualifications!!!"

I don't want this to turn into some long ranting post about how much I don't like my job. We all know that there's a club for that, it's called everybody and they meet at the bar. I also don't need to go into what the working world actually produces as far as office atmosphere is concerned, but suffice it to say that the 12 year old inside of me is sorely disappointed. Between this and the Pitt/Aniston divorce I don't even know how the teenager inside still exists at all. Maybe that's why I watch so much MTV.

Peer pressure

2007-04-30T16:46:00.000-05:00

As an on again/off again blogger I've decided the time has come to restart this thing. There's a level of guilt when one is out of school and working in the "real world" about not using one's mind to its full potential. I often find myself formulating little stories in my head and then completely forgetting about them before they're actually recorded somewhere besides my jumble of daily thinking.

So instead of complaining about getting dumber (which I actually excel at. If you ever need help formulating a complaint I'm at your service. Probably not a good thing, eh?) I've decided to at least try to write something worth reading in here every so often. Who knows who will even read this thing, but at least it's out there. Then I can look at it and make myself feel better (look at me, I did something slightly interesting today!).