No pants, no friends, no brush, no death

I am on vacation. My BFF is on vacation with me for a week. We made some rules.

1. No Pants.

First and foremost, this is the bible of vacation rules. Under no circumstances should you be restricted from eating anything and everything that you want. I happen to be in Hawaii, which makes pants even more unacceptable. Swim suit. Cover up. Skirt. MAYBE shorts. I own lots of pants and do love a comfy pair of jeans, but really, who prefers pants to no pants? One quote of mine from college that made it onto a post-it and onto a wall was talking about underwear choices. I hate thongs. I explained that I didn't wear them because I knew that when I got home I would just want to take off my pants and when you have roommates (who sometimes have boyfriends) that is not ok. No one expects you to be fully clothed in Hawaii and with the butt/back of the leg burns people inevitably get the LAST thing they expect you to do is wear pants.

2. No Friends.

People always think that going to Hawaii is romantic, exotic and full of Danielle Steele moments. I am here to tell you that this has NEVER happened to me. EVER. Granted, I usually come with my parents and chill on the beach with my dad which doesn't reel in the men, but the majority of people here are a) with their families, b) with their wives/girlfriends or c) under the age of 18 combined with a or b. When said BFF arrived and we were discussing laying on the beach and happy hour and she, exasperatedly, asked if we had to make friends. Immediately, I said GEEBUS NO. The whole point of vacation is freedom from having to make nice with people you have no interest in making nice with. That being said, happy hour can lead to some friendliness....but under no circumstances should you ever get yourself into a situation where you feel obligated to do anything but listen to your iPod and read. Alone.

3. No Brush.

One of the benefits of visiting said BFF is that I don't have to bring half of the things I normally bring when I travel. She has contact solution, she has face wash, she has sweatshirts, toothpaste and hair ties. I always forget to pack a brush but I know that she will have one. Well, true to form, I forgot a brush and unfortunately, so did she. Thus, No Brush was an addendum to the rules when we realized we had no brush and have not brushed our hair at all in the past 5 days. Probably has something to do with why people began mistaking us for locals. What if I came home with dreadlocks? My father would tape me down and shave my head, that's what. Shame, I like the whole no brush thing.

4. No Death.

Well, duh. No one goes on vacation to die. However, we have had some interesting experiences. First, today was all day drunk day and everyone knows things can happen on days like that. Second, we went snorkeling and saw this neat purple and gold things. Fun! Except then we realized they were much larger than we thought. And inked. And were squid. AND WERE LOOKING AT US. Somewhat terrifying. Also, I can no longer eat calamari.

So here's to winter break and making your own rules so you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Sadly, these rules go away when school/work starts again. I'm already dreading putting on a pair of pants.

...and he's down

One of the many perks of a tourist destination is the incredible people watching that goes on. There are characters galore. The trophy wives with their fake boobs, the old couples still in love, the old couples who bicker, the newlyweds, the kids loathing the family time, the families who seem so dysfunctional you wonder how they ever rallied together to make somewhere together...the list goes on and on. I was in Hawaii and saw evidence of all of the above and even befriended a few of them at happy hour. The people watching there is fantastic, mostly because you can also judge their bathing suit choices and how badly they will be burned when they wake up from their nap. One demographic that you may notice I have failed to mention is young children and babies. Sigh.
If you know me, you know children are not my preferred demographic. I don't make faces at them. I don't think when they're loud that it's a cute way to express themselves. I have no desire to be the one responsible for that kid who, in .5 seconds, went from being fine to needing a nap and throwing a tantrum instead of just nodding off. That being said, there is a small window during which I find toddlers adorable. Somewhere between a kid learning to walk and being fully mobile you find what I have termed 'stumbling children.'
They can walk on their own but don't have a firm grasp of gravity, momentum and depth perception. Which is to say, they are like drunk people, except they can't talk and you don't have to wait til 2am to see them wandering around. It's just so fun for me to watch them charging ahead typically ignoring obstacles in front of them (like people, or poles) looking like the momentum of their upper body could at any moment overtake how fast their little legs can move causing them to tumble. Fortunately, they are so short that taking a tumble is harmless and they just sit their confused as to why what they were doing didn't work. They are just fearless little explorers and I love them. Until they start crying or need a diaper change.

24

So, my 24 birthday was last week. Sorry if you thought I was going all Jack Bauer this post. 24. Very round number. Divisible by 1,2,3,4,6,8,12 & 24. Pretty solid, don't you think? I have already decided that it is going to be a great year, which hopefully hasn't jinxed me already. As I reflect, things have certainly changed in the past year. It was brought to my attention that my birthday coincides nicely with the actual new year, except my birthday being a month before gives me time to formulate new goals for the calendar new year. So, a few reflections on the past year followed by tracking my goals from last year.


1. Roommate and I have shifted from being able to finish each other's sentences to actually just saying the same things at the same time aka reading each other's minds. Next year at this time we will probably be wearing the same thing without having to coordinate. Also, we have a full living room as opposed to my birthday party last year when we had...a card table and 2 chairs.

2. I cannot drink nearly as much as I once could. I am typically in bed by 10:30. I actually do school work in advance (except for the final I'm not writing right now). I need pep talks and/or a serious occasion to go out. If that doesn't scream post-college depression/adulthood to you I don't know what does.

3. I wear real shoes 3 days a week and bought my first pair of casual pants that aren't jeans. My feet smell.

Now, what about my resolutions from last year? How did I do? Well, my only one is one that I have previously discussed. "Share your head before you share your bed."

...about that. I mean, I give myself like...a B. We won't go into numbers, percentages or personal details but let's just say this is an ongoing development and while I have shown SIGNIFICANT progress it's still not something I'd brag to Patty Stanger about. Speaking of whom...she and Steve Ward (see VH1's Tough Love 2) should really team up for the Olympic event of dating shows. I'd find a way to get myself on there, fake Daddy issues and all.

So, for next year, I have established a few things I'd like to see happen.
1. Have a real job. WHOA DREAM BIG. If one more adult tells me how bad the economy is but that it should be fine by the time I graduate I will punch them. You think I don't know these things? I know these things. It's like when you're stuck in bumper to bumper traffic and someone in the car says "wow, traffic is so bad." WAIT, REALLY!?!? When I tell people I'm done in May they might as well just say "that sucks."

2. Have a better answer than "uhhhhm-uuuh, I dunno" when people ask me what I'd like to do with my masters. The whole "oh you're young and you have time" thing is slowly becoming "get your life together..."

3. Share your head before you share your bed. Like I said, vast improvements. Perhaps operationalizing "share your head" more clearly would help?

4. Wear something other than black dress pants to work. 1 pair. 3 days a week. Rotating tops. Unacceptable.

So...there are my 24 year old thoughts. Not so different from my 23 year old thoughts. Not so big of a surprise there. Get to thinking about your new years resolutions so you can then formulate more creative ways to break them than you did last year!

Check-In

Ok, so I have been "tagged" by Ali to write 10 things about myself...because I am a Sugar Doll? Unclear. But here are 10 tidbits about me!

1. I named my food baby a few weeks ago after a potent lunchtime margarita and shrimp tacos. Shrimp in Spanish is camaron and since I was full of delicious shrimp tacos I found it fitting to name my distended belly Cameron. Cameron has been around since Wednesday night thanks to Sally being home, Thanksgiving and Sol y Luna.

2. Saturday night, after some serious imbibement, some friends of mine were in line at In & Out. They asked me if I wanted something. I replied, via text, "yeah. ketchup, sauce and pickle only." They showed up and gave me a bag of pickles and ketchup. For future reference, I like my In & Out burgers with ketchup sauce and pickle only. Hamburger included. But don't worry, I ate the pickles.

3. I hate taking out the trash.

4. Vacation for me involves as little activity as possible. Put me in the sun, in a comfy chair with a drink, music and a ton of books and I'm set.

5. I'm initiated into the Columbia University marching band. I was visiting my BFF there freshman year the weekend they traveled to Penn and had initiation so....I went through it too.

6. My 24 birthday is on Wednesday. Today, at CPK, the waiter didn't even bother to offer me the free wine sample because he assumed I'm underage. I know people say "oh you'll love that when you're older.." but here's the 411: I'm NOT older. And I DON'T like it.

7. I've become addicted to Whole Foods sandwiches and Trader Joes salads.

8. I believe the most important parts of a complete apartment are a comfortable bed and a comfortable couch. Everything else is elementary.

9. My drink of choice used to be Long Island Iced Teas. Since college...those have not treated me well. I adjusted to bacardi and diet coke. However, I think I have finally settled to vodka tonics. Really, I wish they served cheap cheap champagne at bars because that's always my preference.

10. I wrote a post about watching too much TV and how I cannot add more. And I meant it. Until I was told to watch Modern Family and I got curious. I accidentally watched the 3rd episode first and thank God I did because after I saw the following sequence I knew I HAD to keep watching

Let me set this up: Mitchell and Cameron are gay and just adopted a little girl. They are going to Costco for diapers and Mitchell (the red head) has never been and doesn't see the appeal because, as Cameron says, he is 'snobby.' Then this happens.



My new favorite line in life is "I'm sort of like Costco...I'm big, I'm not fancy and I dare you not to like me." Modern Family is the most recent show added to my DVR with some Intervention mixed in as well. Also, the way they met is F-ing adorable.


So there are my 10 tidbits...I hope I didn't disappoint. Cameron is still alive and well, in case you were concerned.

THE YELLOW ONES DON'T STOP

So this post stems from many things that are going on in life right now. First, the holiday season is rapidly approaching (and my birthday, ahem) and one of my favorite things are the holiday movies that are released between Thanksgiving and New Years. As wonderful as an inspiring rom com on the big screen can be, what is even better are the movies TBS, Disney, USA, ABC and countless others play. A classic, which I didn't expect to love, is Elf. I tried to find a YouTube of when Will Ferrell gets hit by a cab (whilst in an elf costume in NYC) and then later when he prevents Zooey Deschanel from walking into a crosswalk, exclaiming "THE YELLOW ONES DON'T STOP." If you have not seen Elf, move that to your #1 queue in Netflix NOW. (Sidenote: queue is an English term. I still have to think about what it means every time I see it) For me to say that about a Will Ferrel movie even after Taladega Nights, Stepbrothers and Semi-Pro, you have to know that I truly in my heart of hearts laughed out loud at that movie.

So, with the theme of being hit by cars and applying the theories of operant conditioning (heyo, grad student here) you see that Elf has learned NOT to walk in front of yellow cars (taxis) because of the negative stimulus he received (being hit by it). Now, if you live in a large city you know that there a lot of factors that go in to how terrible drivers are. Living in LA, I NEVER assume a car sees me or that they would even stop if they did. I park across the street from where my apartment is so crossing the street without a light is a daily occurrence for me. I don't cross against lights, I wait to make eye contact with a driver when I'm in a cross walk before actually walking in front of them and in general I wait for a lull before just waltzing into a street.

My dearest roommate, however, is highly optimistic. By optimistic, I mean has a death wish. I practically throw my arm in front of her (ala your mother stopping suddenly at a yellow light) every time we approach an intersection. She sees a car approaching, looks at the crosswalk and is like "welp, time to go now!" People in LA text, talk on phones, look at billboards, contemplate their next botox injection and whether or not Justin-Bobby will ever get that smug look on his face slapped off. They do not think about pedestrians, crosswalks or, many times, street lights. But god love my roommate, she puts her faith in those white hashed lines and steps boldly into a busy street. NBD. As I pass out from a heart attack.

Now, beloved roommate has never been struck by a car and bats her lashes seductively at cars as we walk by AND TOTALLY GETS AWAY WITH IT! I would get honked at! I would feel guilty! people would curse at me and shake their fists! But not the roomie. Sigh. She is Zooey Deschanel and I am Elf.

On a serious note

Seeing as I am (almost) in the mental health profession there are many times when people ask me questions that I wish there were answers to. Yesterday, I gave a 3 hour midterm presentation on school violence which included a role play in which we asked class members to take on select student roles (ie student who called 911, friend of the shooter, student who froze). It was amazing to me that every student with a role, whether it required them to be empowered, demeaned or severely traumatized, had those emotions within them and displayed them with no reservations (making my role as the clinician doing the debriefing more powerful than I had anticipated). We all know what it is like to feel weak, inferior, betrayed, angry or immobilized.

When we let them break, we found out about the shooting at Ft. Hood and that the shooter is a psychiatrist. In the presentation, I learned that the shooter at Northern Illionois University had been a graduate student in Social Work, a chilling thing to think as I'm presenting to a class he very well may have also taken. So often we spend so much time and energy caring for others that we forget to care for ourselves. Or, we project to others that everything is fine when really we are in grave need of help, even if we can't immediately accept it. So when people ask me why others go crazy, my only answer is that we are all varying degrees of crazy, but the lucky ones have received a (possibly unspoken) psychoeducation on how to manage our anger, stress and disappointments without lashing out at a world we've decided is out to get us.

In the aftermath of the school shooting in Santee, CA a San Diego news channel canceled its scheduled programming and displayed only a message telling people to turn off the TV and spend time with their children. This is what I'm doing now. Stop reading your blogs. Forget about your Farm on Farmville. Ignore Dr. Grey and her dark and twisty issues. Take some time and do something for yourself. Then, go see or call someone who is consistently there for you when you need someone and just check in with them. In this moment, the only thing we can do to prevent such horrific tragedies from occurring is to provide support and recognize that everybody needs somebody sometimes.

One of life's questions....to me

There are a lot of things in the world that I do not understand. Specifically, scientific things and design issues. For instance, why did Apple put their video camera on the nano on the bottom of the device where we have grown accustomed to holding it because the cameras on all their other devices are on the top? Why have we not developed a washer/dryer that has a sensor to let you know if you’ve left someone in it to avoid that rogue wet sock or, even worse, dry sock left in the college dorm dryer never to be seen again?

Then, there are things that work and I have no idea why or how they work. I recently discovered how my toilet functions because the chain kept coming off through a series of events I will not detail I deemed it necessary to stare at my toilet do it’s work for roughly 15 minutes. I have googled “hybrid engine” on multiple occasions with multiple people and still could not tell you how the battery part recharges without being plugged in and why the engine doesn’t have to work twice as hard. On a far more simplistic level, I’d like to talk to you about pens.

I love pens. I love all different kinds of pens and can spend hours browsing the pen and pencil isle at staples, target, office depot or ralphs. Through all of my schooling, and before everyone brought laptops to class, I came to find that I prefer clicky pens. I lose caps, don’t know where to put the cap when I’m using the pen and generally just don’t enjoy them. Clicky pens allow me to write and stop writing with just a click instead of having to remove and/or replace a cap They also give me something to occupy myself (and annoy those around me) when I am fidgety. Now here come’s my question, why don’t clicky pens dry out more rapidly than capped ones?

Stick with me here, when you leave a pen (sharpie, marker, ball point, what have you) uncapped for long enough it dries out and cannot be resurrected. Look at a clickly pen. The top is not secure. The tip isn’t directly exposed to air, but it is centimeters away from it…so…what gives? They make clicky Sharpies too and while I have never experimented with how long they last I would venture a guess that they wouldn’t make them if their quality was significantly inferior to the capped ones.
Maybe capped pens do last longer but I’ve just never used a single pen long enough to notice a difference? I don’t think so. I’m staring at my clicky highlighters now too and am even more perplexed.

HOW DO THEY DO IT????

Do Assholes Really Finish First?

I read this interesting article today while I wasn't doing my job and it got me thinking about my history of assholes. I am certainly guilty of being attracted to assholes and walking into situations that can only end poorly fully knowing that I will probably be "that girl" in the morning. Since graduating from college I have begun to reform my ways, repeating to myself "they are SUPPOSED to be nice to you" on many occasions and since New Years 2009 have been (attempting to) live by the guru of dating, Patti Stanger's, words "Share your head before you share your bed." Well, as well intentioned as that was, let's just say I'm able to sleep horizontally in my queen sized bed without worrying I will be in the way of anyone else...and it's getting old. Old as in about where L Lohan will be when she wears clothes that flatter her again and doesn't find herself under "hot mess" on urbandictionary.com.

I've hashed out a lot of follow-ups about being single in LA *whine whine whine* and how guys can be assholes but girls can't be bitches *complain complain complain* and that ultimately you just need someone who makes you laugh and brings out the best in you *sap sap sap*.

So, read the article. Share thoughts, or don't, whatevs. Either way, I'd still like to get myself on Millionaire Matchmaker so Patti will find me love.

COOTIES

I've always heard about people who are germaphobic. Don't like hugging, shaking hands, always have Purell on them, but I've never encountered one first hand. I don't consider myself a dirty person, per se, but I'm not overly conscious about picking something up off my floor or making s'mores with a real stick from the ground instead of some metal contraption. I suppose my feeling is that if our species could make it this far, things out in the world can't be THAT bad.

My supervisor at work is germaphobe. Any time someone comes in to work with a slight cough, a stuffy nose or a hoarse voice her first words are "oh-my-gosh-are-you-sick!?!?" as she backs away not so subtly. I have allergies which puts everyone in a tizzy when they act up and this past weekend I lost my voice but was able to convince them that no, it wasn't H1N1 and no, I did not need to go home. When flu season broke out, I walked in on her Purell wiping a pen that a client had just used. She once "snapped" (in a non attitudey way) at me about having put a stack of papers on the bathroom floor while I relieved myself. Still unsure as to where else they were supposed to go. After that, she practically smashed her elbow into the bathroom door to hold it for someone, because touching the handle or door would clearly cause her to contract Hepatitis A. The thing that cracks me up most about people who flush with their foot and use a paper towel to open doors is that they...touch money, open non-bathroom doors normally and, my personal favorite, fly on airplanes. If that isn't a cesspool of potential infestation, I don't know what is.

Anywho, the point is that since I have such a germaphobe supervisor I've started to realize the things I do that most see as unsanitary. You know, the things you do that you think everyone else does but when you mention it you just get these stares of disgust and confusion? For instance, wearing deoderant. I know that isn't a sanitation thing, but I've something I just never added to my daily routine. I've traced it back to the fact that I was a swimmer so whenever I was sweaty, I was in the water and reeked of chlorine whenever I wasn't so body odor really wasn't an issue. Since then, I have learned that when going out or a football game or something it's probably a good idea to put some on.

The most embarrassing, yet normal to me, confession of non sanitary living is that I don't use toilet seat covers. Now, before you go judging me and thinking I've crossed a line, let me explain myself. I never recall being told I was supposed to use them. I'd always see them and be like hmm...this toilet looks clean and dry...and I need to pee...whelp here we go. There have definitely been times when I've looked down and been like NO GO NO GO and I line it with toilet paper if no covers are available, but really? It just adds another step before or after having to unbutton, unzip, lower and sit down. All I really want to do is pee and and the faster I do it the faster I'm no longer sitting on an uncovered toilet seat. How do you even know where the covers came from? Or the paper towels, for that matter? What happens in the factories? I mean, the possibilities are endless for disgusting activities.

If someone is sick, I don't make out with their cup. Or them (just in case you were concerned). If something drops in the dirt or the floor and you can visibly see things on it, I don't eat it. I have limits, I just don't see the need to make your own personal germ bubble. I get sick on occasion but in general I'm a healthy normal person who takes sick pleasure in watching people go out of their way to wash their hands and open a door without making any physical contact with their hands. Perhaps next year it'll be an Olympic sport?

Farmville

From time to time, as they do, fads EXPLODE on the scene and permeate every form of media outlet and then slink away into obsolete obscurity. The latest, I have decided, is the increasingly popular Farmville facebook application. For those of you living under a rock, it is basically a SIM knock off which enables you to build up a farm with crops, machinery, animals and other things you find on a farm. Being a huge computer nerd, I own many of the SIMs creations (sim tower, copter, city, THE sims and probably others I've forgotten) so I instantly saw the appeal of Farmville and soon gave in and started Sam's Farm (creativity at its finest).

Now, as fads often do, Farmville is now being referenced throughout the media. It pops up in TFLN (a fad in and of itself), on twitter (fad?), FML, on Facebook and I'm sure in time there will be an AC360 special on college students skipping class to go home to harvest their crops or losing their lives to the online drain that is Farmville (like the bit on a boy who lost his life to Warcraft/internet addiction). I see how this can happen. Your crops grow in real time, but society expects us to have this silly concept they call "responsibility" which causes you to neglect your raspberries that mature in 2 hours. I miscalculated time once and had to have my best friend log in to my facebook to harvest my pumpkins because my work computer doesn't have Flash on it--which is a ranty blog post of its own.

I am very much enjoying my Farm and recently bought a scarecrow and a plow machine. Saving up for the harvester and seeder. The issue is, that eventually I will have all of those things and reach higher levels where I can plant every option and there is no incentive to keep my farm going. It's like in the Sims games when you get your Sim every promotion, buy them all the nicest things, get them a family and tons of friends...or you find the cheat codes and the fun ends much sooner than doing it the real way. Either way, the feeling when you exhaust a game is such a let down I can't even describe it. It's like when you work really hard on a homework assignment and then the teacher forgets to collect it and you're like...whimpery and you have this farm you built up but no one to appreciate it anymore.

So, I have many more things to buy on my farm and I haven't even bought Sims 3 yet but I really hope people are already developing the newest fad to allow me to escape into a fantasy world where all I need to do is harvest my farmland or feed my Sims and things are all ok.

Breaking up is hard to do

Break-ups are tough in any form. Recently, a few of my friends at school have broken up with longterm (I'm talking 3-4+ years) boyfriends. Sucky. But what about all the other break ups we go through? I'm talking about the coffee shop with your favorite barista who knows your order closes, the sandwich place where the sandwich is made for you before you even get to the register but the guy who knows your order gets switched to a different location, your dry-cleaner because it's no longer convenient on your commute, but most salient to me is the breakup between you and a tv show you once knew and loved.

I began thinking about this because it has come to my attention that I watch too many TV shows. Part of this is that 2 shows I record are daily so I spend most weekend catching up on DVR, but recently someone suggested that I begin watching Community. Based on the cast and limited previews I've seen I'd love to give it a shot, but frankly, I just don't have time. It got me thinking about the shows I watch and the fact that I really feel guilty if I don't or if I miss a week and I began recounting times when I had actually broken up with a show. Examples.

Gilmore Girls: I loved this show. I wanted to live this show. My father and I watched it weekly, before tivo was in every home. My friend Erica and I would call each other during the commercial breaks. But at a certain point...my dad and I just stopped. I think it was when she went to college, because we could no longer relate to the struggles of a daughter and her mom when the daughter goes to college (even though it was my dad...). Plus, the characters in Stars Hollow are impossible to supplement in a college environment.

The OC: I cannot stress to you how much I loved this show. I mean, I am FROM Southern California, I GOT all the jokes and psh, I PLAYED water polo ok, so back off Seth. Also, I am Jewish. I happen to look nothing like Rachel Bilson or Mischa Barton, I don't drive a Range Rover, my clothing was not from Barneys, but a girl can dream. I basically ignored one of my freshman hallmates as she was leaving for summer because the finale was on and Marissa was being attacked on a beach (bc in the oc, thats where things go down) by Ryan's brother Trey (SCANADAL!). But. They killed off Marisa. I wasn't particularly attached to her, my heart lay with Seth (the whole reason I started watching the show in the first place), but the shows dynamic just wasn't the same and I gradually lost interest.

Lost: Ok. I started this show a season late so I was Netflix-ing season 1 while watching season 2 which is a mind fuck in and of itself. All I REALLY wanted to know was why that freaking plane crashed so I kept watching to find out. All the conspiracy theories and whatnot drove me a little nuts and the fact that people disappear, reapear, die and betray each other all on random whims got a little frustrating. Finally, when they got OFF the island but the show wasn't over, I was like dude...this is just excessive. I know why the plane crashed. I know why the island doesn't always exist on maps. I know that Sawyer and Dr. Shepard should never wear clothes and I know that Ben is out of his freaking mind. Case closed. No more weekly hour of complete stupification--I have classes for that.

I watched the series finale of the OC but I don't know how Gilmore Girls ended. I will definitely watch the series finale of Lost to FINALLY get a bottom line out those crazy people which they probably won't give me because they don't work that way. All in all, I just hope that shows go off TV on their own so I don't have to ditch them because, as we all know, breaking up is hard to do. Even if it is with a fictional cast of people.

I love SoCal. I need to throw that out there. I love the beach. I love that it rarley rains. I love that 60 is cold. I tolerate the rude people and traffic. But overall, I really love it. That being said, could a sister get some seasons up in here? There is nothing like leaves falling and actually being able to wear a sweater and smell the cold coming in. Today, I broke a sweat sitting in the shade not moving. Dear mother nature, that is just excessive. I don't know how I lifeguarded in this weather in high school and continued to function without an IV drip of hydration when now I can't even get the mail without needing a glass of water and rest.

Also, the whole humidity thing is why I LEFT the South. As soon as our state is no longer on fire, I'm going to not-so-respectfully request that humidity get the hell out.

Small rant. Sorry.

Over-share

The first days of class are usually a joke. You come, take roll if the class is small enough, do awkward intros, go over the syllabus and go. Things become a little more routine and annoying when your class is 3 hours long. Considering my focus in my program is only 22 people I have 2 classes with the same 22 people and the other 2 have ridiculous overlap. Thus, contrary to my usual tendency to forget someone's name within 20 seconds of meeting them, I know the names of at least 11 people in my concentration.

Brief example of my tragic tendency to forget names (but reassurance that I'm not the only one): Lifeguard office. Me and two other guards with one in the tower who isn't exactly a staff favorite. Boss walks in escorting new guard. Boss introduces us to the new guard and we all make eye contact, say hi and have a lil convo. We talk trash about guard in tower...inform new guard how not to suck...get defensive from boss...they exit. 1.5 minutes later we say we're so glad we have a new guard and then realize all 3 of us have forgotten his name. My guess was Mike or Aaron. We were all a little ashamed. A day or two later the three of us were together again and one guard had followed up with our boss, turns out the new guys name is Mark. The same as my dad. Shameful.

Anywho, one of the most annoying things about that is you have to hear people awkwardly introduce themselves. Find an "interesting fact" or "one thing you wish people knew about you" which is tough to do without sounding like an asshole. Then your professor tries to get you to know each other and get comfortable with each other...which is cool, but some people miss the memo that that doesn't quiiiiite mean you should share your deepest darkest secrets. It's called an over-share and the best way to get yourself talked about (confidentiality doesn't apply when you spill your guts within the first hour and aren't paying someone for it).

1. This week in class I learned that one classmate's father is a drug dealer

2. I sold a duvet on eBay and the woman questioned if I had the right address...I didn't but told her I hoped the address PayPal supplied was someone she knew who could get her the duvet (figuring it was her dad's account or something) and she wrote back saying that her husband had died suddenly and she and her sons had had to move to a smaller place. VERY sad story...but there is no appropriate way to respond because it was a little inappropriate to share.

3. Planes are the WORST. Sat next to a guy who showed me the diamond earrings and necklace he'd bought for his 13 year old daughter who he hadn't seen in a decade to see if I thought she'd like them.

3a. I can't even count the number of times I've heard people sitting next to each other flirt and reveal things like...having an illegitimate child...or just having left rehab...

4. Class is my favorite example of people NOT being subtle when they think they are. Like my grief/loss class, or when discussing substance abuse or other serious topics when people ask specific questions and are clearly upset and think no one has caught on. It's like in sex ed in high school when someone asks "if a guy ejaculates on your thigh can you get pregnant" and convinces herself people think it is hypothetical. NEWSFLASH: We know it happened to you or the person next to you who is bright red. Might as well own it.

There are so many examples in my life that I cannot think of where I am just caught so off guard my decency goes out the door and I literally drop my jaw like a codfish (if you get that reference you have deeper insight into my childhood). If you want to spill your guts I'm sure VH1 has a reality show they can cast you on.

Stolen From Ali

I sometimes miss the email forwards that demand you answer questions about yourself and tag people or you will never get your first kiss...so when I saw this on Ali's blog I immediately had to fill it out. Also, because other blogs are in the works and taking awhile for me to write so this is a fun time filler.

1. Where did you go on your first airplane ride?
When I was 1.5 and we moved from Oregon to SoCal...I don't quite remember it.

2. What is your earliest memory?
Hmmm...I think some pre-school stuff circa age 3-4. Going to the park and riding my bike with my dad.

3. What was your second grade teacher's name?
Barbara...private school, we called our teachers by their first names. I didn't like her...because all I remember about her is that she didn't believe me when I said my ear hurt and it ended up being a really bad infection SO HAH.

4. What was the last thing you watched on tv?
Little People, Big World. It often times brings me to tears. It's fiiiiiine.

5. My uncle once:
Ordered everything on the dessert menu from Cheesecake Factory. Needless to say, he's a badass.

6. How long was your longest relationship?
A year and some change....on and off for what would have been 2 years

7. What do you want to be?
Right now, I'm just hoping to be a functional adult with a job

8. What was the last thing you received in the mail?
The New Yorker

9. If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?
I think we could all be a bit more kind to one another

10. Would you prefer 10 inches of snow or 100 degree weather?
100 degree weather. I'm a child of southern california so as long as there is no humidity involved I can deal.

11. What is your homepage set to?
Cnn.com

12. Last 5 websites you visited:
Twitter, Facebook, Blogger, Yelp, Gmail

13. Were you a planned baby?
So they say

14. What do you believe is the meaning of life?
You make your own meaning

15. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Electricity...why isn't that cheaper this day and age? We can send people to the moon and give someone a new face but we haven't found a cheaper way for me to sit on my butt in the light with AC and tv on without paying a shit ton for it? Who can I talk to about that?

16. How many schools did you attend through grade twelve?
4

17. The Cosby Show or The Simpsons?
...family matters

18. Three signs summer is here:
being sweaty all the time, it being light til 8pm, being able to read for fun

19. The last time you had your feelings hurt:
Hmm. Not sure? I guess a week ago?

20. Who was your first best friend?
Cathy, she moved to Israel after 1 grade though.

That was fun for me. Hopefully for you too.

My Summer, by Sam

Remember in like, elementary school when you'd come back from summer break and have to write an essay (aka a paragraph, what happened to those days?) about your summer? Well, I started classes today so I can do longer deny the reality of school so I have decided to recap my summer by recording the books I've read, whole CDs I've bought and movies I have seen. It if were last summer, I would recap more interesting events like number of time I blacked out or number of boys that I "met" but the juxtaposition of that list with this one just goes to show how much your life can change in one year. So, in nostalgic reflection, here is my list:

Books
"Things I Know Now: Letter to My Younger Self" edited by Ellyn Spragins
"The Abstinence Teacher" by Tom Perrotta
"Everything I know about being a girl I learned from Judy Blume" edited by Jennifer O'Connell
"When You Are Engulfed in Flames" by David Sedaris
"Commencement" by J. Courtney Sullivan
"I Know This Much is True" by Wally Lamb
"I Love You, Beth Cooper" by Larry Doyle
"Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell
2-3 months of the New Yorker
Currently reading: "Somethings Missing" by Matthew Dicks
Next in line: "The First Hour I Believed" by Wally Lamb

Movies
Away We Go
Paperheart
The Hurt Locker
Julie & Julia
Up!
The Hangover
The Ugly Truth
(500) Days of Summer
The Proposal
District 9
Next in line: It Might Get Loud

Whole CDs
Barclona "Absolutes"
Incubus "Moments and Melodies"
Blind Pilot "3 Rounds & a Sound"
Stephen Kellogg "...South of Stephen"
The Gabe Dixon Band "The Gabe Dixon Band"
Jaymay "Autumn Fallin'"
The Avett Brothers "I and Love and You-EP"
Bon Iver "Blood Bank-EP"
Regina Spektor "Far"
(500) Days of Summer Soundtrack
Eric Hutchinson "Sounds Like This"
Mat Kearney "City of Black and White"

That is my list. What about you, infinite abyss of nonexistant readers?

Where will people get their first kisses now!?

So every summer there is some article about declining enrollment numbers in summer camps. Blame it on the economy, Xbox or the fact that you now cannot get a college scholarship for sports unless you've been doing it seriously since age 7, but this should be considered a national crisis. Now, maybe I was unique because I am an only child and my parents were deathly afraid I was never going to develop social skills, but I have been going to camps since I can remember for everything from various sports to computer programming (yes, I'm serious. but we aren't in middle school anymore so you cannot make fun of me).

Day camps are a joy, especially for working parents and the counselors get to send the little snots back home around the time the lunch/snack high wears off and they start screaming. I understand that not every parent or child is comfortable sending their children away to sleepover camp but this brings me to my point. A startling number of kids I know had their first kiss/sexual experience at sleep away camp. I also worked at the summer camp I went to and got plenty of action out of it so this issue spans across generations. Now, you may be thinking "why would I send my child away to be turn into a ho ho?" but think of the other places kids get first kisses.

1) A car: Ok, to this day I HATE saying hello/goodbye to a potential lover in a car. You can't actually touch, there's no way to lean in without being painfully obvious and then the girl will inevitably struggle somehow getting out of the car and want to crawl into a corner. Until bench seats make a comeback, this is a major nono.
2) At the door: As I mentioned, I am an only child. This means my mother waited up for me at night. Every night. The only thing worse than an awkward first kiss would be your parents witnessing it. Also, there is the awkward pause when both of you are trying to figure out what to do and what goes where and maybe your drop your keys or you can't find them after the kiss or your dog starts barking or or or!
3) At school: Eh. No. Although, any positive thing you can associate with high school is good. Or middle school. Whatever. But not every first kiss is positive so you know, be careful.
4) A dance: Very public. With people grinding all over each other. If it's in middle school, your best friends are obviously all staring. Awkward.

I'm sure there are a multitude of other options that are cute and everything, but the allure of camp is really that there are no parents involved at all. Most times, the counselors are more concerned with the play they may or may not be getting from each other so you can wander. Camps are also typically in the wilderness so you can wander a bit and hold hands because you are "scared of the dark" or "heard a noise." Then you can gossip to your camp friends about it (and maybe your counselors...) but they won't be there to taunt you forever about it. It's perfect. So, send your children to camp and let them experience first kisses the least awkward way possible. Plus, it'll give you alone time to get some lovin' too.

No homo, but...

So I'm in the tower at work and 3 football players come in to the pool to cool off. They are massive. I would not mess with them in a any way, shape or form. The water polo team is out of the water "putting lane lines back in" aka strutting around the deck. The following conversation between football players ensues:

FB1: Dude, those speedos are SO tiny.
FB2&3: yeah
FB1: Like, no homo but those guys have NO asses!
FB2-3: hahaha
FB1: No really, would one of those things cover your ass dude?
FB2: My ass cheeks would be hanging out all over the place in one of those.

Then, of course, I got the mental image of these massive dudes in speedos with an adaptation of "fat man in a little coat" in the background and actually cackled at them.

Leaving Tennessee

Today is a very special day! It is my best friend's 23 birthday and first day of medical school...my friends are intimidatingly smart and cool. Also, a year ago today was when I packed up and left Tennessee after 4 years of college and trekked my way back to SoCal. It was today, a year ago, when I realized "shit, I'm going to more school, I need to stop drinking 5 nights a week and remember how to write an APA paper." Also, when I realized I was going right back where I had started 4 years go: my parent's house. That is a post in and of itself.

I recall the exact moment I crossed the bridge into Arkansas and my surprise at how easy it was to just wake up one morning, get in a car and leave the life I had spent 4 years painstakingly building. Just like that, I no longer lived there. Since I was going back to SoCal and would inevitably be hanging out with my high school/middle school friends it almost felt like the past 4 years had been voided.

It poured the whole time in Arkansas and I stopped at Sonic because I knew soon I would be in the land of ton of hilarious sonic commercials...but no Sonics. My parents were in Hawaii and wanted hourly updates which sounded something like "Hi guys...you are in hawaii...I don't know where I am but it is pelting rain and everything looks the same. Love you." "Hi guys, you are still in hawaii and I'm still unclear as to where I am but I think Bill Clinton is from around here so that's hopeful?" "Hi...still on the road...still...ok bye." I listened to a book on tape (Playing With Boys by Alicia Valdes-Rodriguez) and Ryan Adams "Demolition" and tried to let it sink in that things were all about to change radically.

That first day I drove to Dallas through PELTING rain and stayed with one of my old roommates who had started law school. It was strange to see her "new life" and to see her in a context other than college but felt strangely comforting to see that yes, life did exist after college. We watched Michael Phelps crush records, pre-recorded Brooke Knows Best (she prepared for my visit...she kicks ass) and ate funfetti cake and the next morning she sent me off with hot coffee and my own pound of snickerdoodle coffee. Nothing like a friend who knows you well.

No real purpose here...just weird that it's been a year and it all seems like a lifetime ago and it's just funny how much can change in a year.

Ole!

There is something you should know about me. I love Mexican food. I'm not talking "ohh...yeah I could go for a quesadilla" on a casual Saturday, I'm talking plotting out which Mexican restaurant I will go to on which night based on what their forte is, how strong their margaritas are and how many times they will refill your chips, salsa and water before they begin to give you dirty looks. The depth of the menu of a Mexican food restaurant is really just baffling given that most everything consists of the same ingredients: meat, beans, cheese, salsa and then mix it up with some veges, sour cream, guac and rice. And more cheese--because nothing else adds to the quality of a meal like the cheese content. Nonetheless, the options are endless. Quesadilla? Fajitas? Burrito? Taco? Chimi Changas? Nachos? Taquitos? Tostada? It even extends to breakfast with a breakfast burrito or Mexican omelet. It's magical, really.

One thing that really gets me is when people judge your food choice, as if only one of the aforementioned options is truly the best. Without fail, everytime I eat at a Mexican restaurant with a certain friend she proclaims that yes, "Sam LOVES Mexican food...and she thinks its acceptable to eat nachos as a meal (insert tone of absolute disgust like it's actually code for bringing Chinese take-out to the restaurant)." Look, nachos may be on the appetizer menu most of the time but when have you EVER ordered nachos and still had room for your entree without being borderline comatose? Yep. Never. They are huge, everyone always wants some and they blend all the best aspects of Mexican food together.

Next time you are at a Mexican restaurant just try the nachos, skip the entree and tell me you don't feel fantastic.

In addition: I found this on a blog and it is maybe the best pick-up line you could use on me.

Quick! To the top of Mt. Wanna-Hakka-Loogi!

Yesterday morning, at the painful time of 6am, I clocked in to work to life guard for a movie shoot. They were shooting in the dive pool and hoped to make it look like the ocean by using the "bubbler" which is actually used to break surface tension for when divers are first learning. Fortunately, I worked with a guard I've known for awhile so I was able to quote Finding Nemo and yell "BUBBLES!!! BUBBLESBUBBLESBUBBLES. MY BUBBLES" every time they went off. He was a good sport. If you don't know what I'm talking about you need some Pixar education and to click below.

BUBBLES

We thought the actress might drown a few times. We cleaned seaweed out of the pool. We decided they should insert JPEGs of Nemo into the film to make it look more like the ocean. It was a long day.

Actually...Sam has a vanity plate...

There are many times when I find myself the subject of ridicule, however my favorite is when it is unbeknown to the speaker. The most common of these situations is when discussing Jewish people and those with vanity plates. Now, where I grew up one knew never to ridicule the Jews not only because most people were Jewish but also because we had all spent our 12-13 year old weekends doing the YMCA, Time Warp and getting henna tattoos, caricatures, and endless amounts of mini hotdogs in a bun at one another's bar and bat mitzvahs. This changed, however, when I went to school in the South. My mother cautioned me to "keep a low profile" about my religion and when I did begin to tell people it was often met with "oh...wow, I've never met a Jewish person before." I decided this was ok because that is how I had reacted when I met my first friend who believed any form of touching before marriage was a sin, my first African-American friend and my first friend who thought Bush was the savior of our nation. Still, I opted not to wear a yellow star on my shirt so often times when in groups someone would make a derogatory comment about someone Jewish I would just ignore it until someone else, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed for their friend, alerted everyone that I, in fact, was the aforementioned "cheap Jew." The stereotypes about Jewish people were nothing new to me but I was really surprised to find people's distaste for vanity plates.

In my family, we always enjoy trying to figure out what personalized plates mean and both my parents have vanity plates. Thus, when I was 14, just about to get my permit at 15, and my parents bought me a car (such a spoiled jewish girl, I know) I wanted one too. I chose one that was very simple. H2O Sam with an actual "o" and not a zero, to be chemically correct. I swam, played water polo and life guarded so I thought it made sense. People often times speak badly about people with vanity plates and yet again someone in the group feels compelled to alert everyone that I have one. The backpedaling begins. Whatever, ask someone what their first AIM screen name was and H2O Sam seems far more appealing. I went in to go change it before I left for college and found myself incapable of letting go...h2o sam was part of my identity. I liken it to changing the name of your car, vagina, or penis for some arbitrary reason that didn't involve a new car, vagina lift or bad case of syphilis.

Now, a major drawback of this personalized plate is that it requires me to harness my terribly out of control road rage. If you were to be cut-off by an unassuming white car you probably wouldn't remember it. If you were to be flicked off by a nice silver escalade, not much would probably stick out about it other than some comment about people thinking they own the road. But if that same SUV's license plate was "HGHROLR" I'm guessing the next time "HGHROLR" wants to get over a lane or is parked next to you in front of a restaurant you are going to remember that car. I can't yell at people, I can't flick them off and I especially can't do these things within the close vicinity of my home. Of course, I could let the road rage run wild but I have no desire to get into a fight, have my car keyed or have someone tell my mother I'm a bad driver (which I'm obviously not...duh).

I really have no funny ending here...just my frustration that my expression of my aquatic self hinders me from expressing my sheer hatred toward bad drivers. And that you should watch those 'cheap Jew' comments because they probably own that silver escalade too.

Couch Potato Musings

I haven't moved from a couch in the past 72 hours except to go to sleep or the bathroom and I have come to a few realizations. Now, keep in mind that these 72 hours involved advil, vicodin, cottage cheese and ice cream to get me through what I would imagine being punched in the jaw by Mike Tyson might feel like (also known as getting your wisdom teeth out). I have watched movies, VH1 countdowns and reality shows ad naseum and have come to a few conclusions.

First: The 90s were the best. All the top hits of the 90s, the hottest hotties of the 90s, movies that recount the heydey of the 90s...why engage in actual society when you can relive it's highlights from your couch?

Second: Eating a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream (and starbucks mocha ice cream) while watching "More to Love" at first seems like a good idea until you realize how mean/sad/demeaning the show is and in turn the sad turn your life will soon take if you continue on this path.

Third: I never want to get old because existing on a diet of only soft foods is miserable. All I want to do is bite in to a huge hamburger but I a) cannot open my jaw that far b) am not allowed to eat solid food yet and c) refuse to move from this couch to get it.

Unfortunately, I return to the real world of work tomorrow and will no longer be able to memorize the HBO, Starz and VH1 line ups. For now, Runaway Bride is on which has a cameo from the dad in 10 things i hate about you, music from the dixie chicks before they pissed off the world, and a cameo by Stabler from SVU. If that isn't a recipe for perfection I don't know where else to search for meaning in my life.

If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and talks like a duck....OR...If the pool is empty, with a closed sign and there is no lifeguard...

It has been two summers since I told myself I would keep up a blog...and you can see how well that went. I have since graduated from college and completed a year of graduate school to find myself life guarding once again in an effort to take advantage of my (hopefully) last hourly wage job. This summer, yet again, boredom has led me to think that my musings may be amusing to others as well. So, here we go "again."

I work at the university pool which has an Olympic size competition pool and a smaller, much warmer dive pool. Priority is given to the Division I athletes of the University so most of the time only the dive pool is open because they are in the competition pool, but the schedule varies. We do not life guard for the athletes, only the recreational swimmers, and no athlete can be in an unguarded pool without a coach. This leads me to my point.

I like to think that people have a decent amount of common sense, especially considering we are at a university and no one under the age of 16 can use our pool. That being said, the questions I receive actually pain me. Some examples:

(While I am in the tower. People are in the pool. Other pool is empty and closed.)
"Is this pool open?"
"Can I go for a swim?"
(pointing toward other pool) "Can I swim there?"

(What goes through my head)
"No...I'm actually just sitting here watching these people swim for fun. We aren't open. In fact, those aren't actually other people."
"Yeah....actually, today just isn't your day...maybe come back tomorrow?"

Ok, so the schedule can be confusing. Swim team, swim camps, water polo soirees...it is a crapshoot as to whether or not the competition pool is open. We also keep the "pool closed" sign up when USC sponsored things are using the pool, so I SUPPOSE the sign is a little misleading. HOWEVER. Here are some signs that the non-open pool is, in fact, not open to you:

1) There is a pool closed sign 2) There is no lifeguard 3) A tall serbian man is cursing out water polo players 4) there are 4+ people to a lane swimming very quickly 5) there is a man/woman shouting swim sets into a megaphone and 6) THERE IS NO LIFEGUARD

Now, do not get me wrong here, I do appreciate that these people have the decency to ask as opposed to the people who just hop into an empty un-lifeguarded pool. When this happens, I suppress the urge to throw kickboards at the person. My other suggestion to prevent this from happening is placing a small, electronic device into the pool. That'll condition you never to swim alone. However, despite the entertainment of the aforementioned tactics, I would think simple logic would tell you that if you had to choose between an empty pool with no one in it and a pool with swimmers and a lifeguard you would choose the latter. It's basic water safety, really. I think next time I'm guarding a full, open pool and someone asked me if the pool is open I will simply reply "what pool?"

An idle mind

I wrote this originally in July of 2007...due to internet/log in issues, I had to do some copy paste...

I have been mostly alone in Nashville for about 2 months now. People come and go visiting and filling my idle days, however the majority of my time I spend in front a computer entering data or talking to people in an effort to forget that I am surrounded merely by objects of little worth. It is hard to update an anonymous person reading this on my life and who I am, so I am not going to. I am going to leap in as the average person would.

They say an idle mind is the devils workshop, and an idle mind is what I have. This isn't to say I have nothing to think about, rather that I prefer to think about recent occurrences in my life instead of studying for any of the 3 things I should be. I never have an idle mind, I just don't have a productive mind.

There is no point in this inital post other than a stream of consiousness. A minimalist introduction into what will hopefully evolve into something of entertainment and maybe even of worth. So read on please, so at least something comes of my idle mind.