Let's catch up...
Work.
I went hiking a couple of times.
Christmas
I became an aunt.
Saw no country for old men.
Returned to blogger!
Some work friends and I started a blog, that I'll be contributing to regularly. I'd post the link except someone (perhaps a Chinese person) has been squatting on our site, causing it to be slow and stupid. Now, I remember how much the Chinese kids in college liked to squat when they smoked and spit outside of my dorm. Never bothered me. But the squatting line was been crossed. We are currently resolving the issue and I will report to you later with any new developments.
That was boring wasn't it. Aren't you glad i went away for so long?
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
R.I.P shoes
Parting with my belongings is way low on my list of things I like to do on my spare time, just above donating bone marrow. Growing up means saying goodbye, learning how to say you're sorry, and worrying about your credit score. Growing up also means dressing appropriately for work and, more specifically, caring about the state of your shoes. Only a year ago I had the luxury of wearing sneakers to work whenever I wanted. NOW-a-days, wearing sneakers to work incites a slew of off hand comments of the "is this your Lily Allen look" variety.
Fine, Job. You win.
I rounded up all the shoes I shouldn't be wearing anymore (but do) and tossed 'em out.
But not before saying goodbye...
Brown shoes I bought for real cheap at Kohl's, you will be missed. I liked that you looked kinda vintagey and everyone thought I bought you at a vintage store but really you were just cheap and school marmy. You're lining fell out right away, but you pressed on, like a champ! I will miss you, but I definitely won't miss your smell. Love Always.
Brocade shoes I wore on sooo many first dates, you are my rock. Your mustard colored brocade absorbed dirt, smog and dust without ever showing a single spot. More importantly, you made my feet look smaller than they really by at least half a size. Even one of the really snobby ladies at work complimented you not knowing that there's a fatty hole in your sole. Tricked her! We're a great team, but this is San Francisco, there are syringes on the floor, and I can't walk around with holey shoes. XOXO 4EVA.
Black shoes Jackie gave me for my birthday, where would I be without you? I wore you to every interview that I wore jeans to, also known as the interviews I didn't care much about. You are, by far, the most comfortable flats I own. You started out as black shoes but have faded away to a dull gray. Nobody likes things that gray, but I will never forget you.
And finally...
Weird pilgrim shoes I bought the first month I moved to the bay but have NEVER worn, why did I buy you? You seemed like a good idea at the time, but the truth is, we are just not right for eachother. You are too pointy for my feet and your soles are so slippery that I'm convinced you're trying to kill me. You remind me of the shoes my dad used to wear in the 70's but aside from that I am very sorry we ever met. meh.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
No Such Thing As Free Parking
I'll preface this story by saying that the lot I park at near (NOT AT) the BART station charges $6/day for parking. Its my only choice since all other lots fill up before I arrive and monthly BART parking is snatched up faster than I can say "$200 a month to commute to work makes me die a little inside".
Luckily I befriended the parking lot attendant and after months of exchanging pleasantries he started to let me park for free. He's my dad's age and has a very strong dad vibe so I never take this gesture to mean anything but, "hey, you're probably poor, let me help you." Others who have heard me talk about this situation beg to differ.
Today I got dressed, put my $6 in my pocket (never one to be presumptuous) changed clothes after deciding I didn't like my outfit and then ran out the door. When i arrived at the lot I realized that my $6 were in my blazer....on my bed...in my room. I had decided to wear a coat instead of a blazer at the last minute. I figured I'd hit up my homie and all would be well. Except homie wasn't there. At this point it was too late to go to an ATM without being late to work.
I had no choice but to park my car, get on the train and hope I didn't get towed. When I got back to my car in the evening I was very pleased that my car was still where I had left it. And no ticket! Once in my car I noticed a small note on my windshield.
Translated it says, "Hi Dollface. It pleases me to say "hello" even if it isn't in person. Hope you are well. Antonio"
Friendly Father Figure or Creep. Please discuss.
Luckily I befriended the parking lot attendant and after months of exchanging pleasantries he started to let me park for free. He's my dad's age and has a very strong dad vibe so I never take this gesture to mean anything but, "hey, you're probably poor, let me help you." Others who have heard me talk about this situation beg to differ.
Today I got dressed, put my $6 in my pocket (never one to be presumptuous) changed clothes after deciding I didn't like my outfit and then ran out the door. When i arrived at the lot I realized that my $6 were in my blazer....on my bed...in my room. I had decided to wear a coat instead of a blazer at the last minute. I figured I'd hit up my homie and all would be well. Except homie wasn't there. At this point it was too late to go to an ATM without being late to work.
I had no choice but to park my car, get on the train and hope I didn't get towed. When I got back to my car in the evening I was very pleased that my car was still where I had left it. And no ticket! Once in my car I noticed a small note on my windshield.
Translated it says, "Hi Dollface. It pleases me to say "hello" even if it isn't in person. Hope you are well. Antonio"
Friendly Father Figure or Creep. Please discuss.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Laney College Flea Market
Laney College Flea Market takes place every Sunday morning at Laney College in Oakland. Mayhaps I never understood the true meaning of a flea market but its basically one big garage sale where people take the shit they no longer want in hopes that you'll want it.
Don't get me wrong, I've had one or two garage sales of my own and I TOTALLY get the concept of pawning my unwanted shit off to some unsuspecting dimwit. But some of the stuff these people were trying to sell was just plain silly.
(Clears Throat)
Okay, you know its used because the tube is visibly half full (I'm an optimist). And chances are this man paid less than 3 bucks for this Johnson and Johnson brand tube-o-lube. Is it REALLY imperative that he get a little return on this botched investment? Can't he just call it a loss and move on? It was so bizarre. For those of you who are curious, he was this fat, short and very jolly looking mexican dude with dad style water sandals and a straw hat. Thought he'd be some creepy old white man, didn't you? Didn't you?! You racist.
Don't get me wrong, I've had one or two garage sales of my own and I TOTALLY get the concept of pawning my unwanted shit off to some unsuspecting dimwit. But some of the stuff these people were trying to sell was just plain silly.
(Clears Throat)
Okay, you know its used because the tube is visibly half full (I'm an optimist). And chances are this man paid less than 3 bucks for this Johnson and Johnson brand tube-o-lube. Is it REALLY imperative that he get a little return on this botched investment? Can't he just call it a loss and move on? It was so bizarre. For those of you who are curious, he was this fat, short and very jolly looking mexican dude with dad style water sandals and a straw hat. Thought he'd be some creepy old white man, didn't you? Didn't you?! You racist.
work
So I've been very hesitant about divulging any details about New Job in fear of being fired over something I say. But honestly, its not that kind of place and anything I have to say about it, they would probably agree so here goes:
Three things that annoy me about New Job
People who kiss up to boss' children:
I'm talking like 5-7 year olds who still believe in "times tables" and don't know the difference between their left and right shoes. People trip all over themselves trying to make them smile and laugh and ostentatiously remember their names. They can't give you that 12% raise you want. They can't even sign off on the Neil Young CD you're trying to expense, so give it up.
Clever Community Emails:
Its not funny when your one of the office darlings and everything you say is accepted as hilarious and you decide to poke fun at the Partners via agency email. You know what would be funny? If you got fired or suspended for wasting our time with that garbage. It doesn't enrich my life. it doesn't make me laugh. in fact it just reminds me of how much free time you have and how you could probably print out your own google maps.
People who kiss up to boss' pets:
This annoys me above all else because I don't like animals to begin with (unless they are on the end of my fork) so treating one with extra care and respect on account of it belonging to a Boss makes me wanna puke.
That's it for now. But I'm sure there are more on the way.
Three things that annoy me about New Job
People who kiss up to boss' children:
I'm talking like 5-7 year olds who still believe in "times tables" and don't know the difference between their left and right shoes. People trip all over themselves trying to make them smile and laugh and ostentatiously remember their names. They can't give you that 12% raise you want. They can't even sign off on the Neil Young CD you're trying to expense, so give it up.
Clever Community Emails:
Its not funny when your one of the office darlings and everything you say is accepted as hilarious and you decide to poke fun at the Partners via agency email. You know what would be funny? If you got fired or suspended for wasting our time with that garbage. It doesn't enrich my life. it doesn't make me laugh. in fact it just reminds me of how much free time you have and how you could probably print out your own google maps.
People who kiss up to boss' pets:
This annoys me above all else because I don't like animals to begin with (unless they are on the end of my fork) so treating one with extra care and respect on account of it belonging to a Boss makes me wanna puke.
That's it for now. But I'm sure there are more on the way.
BARF > PEOPLE
BART is a very interesting social experiment.
Not only does it force people from all walks of life to crunch together (armpit to face, crotch to face, butt to face, face to face, butt to butt and so on...) but it does so during man's weakest hours --- weekday mornings.
Students, worker bees, Executives, Executives to be and the like, willingly step into crowded, and often stank, spaces just to make it to work on time. We do it with pleasure! "What?, I have to stand next to a guy who's gonna yell 'meeetyaaaa! gagagagagagagagagagaga meeeeetyaaaaaaa!' the whole way. What? I might still hear him over my headphones and perhaps feel his breath on my face. Oh and he smells like the shoe section of the Salvation Army? ... well at least I caught the train!"
The BART ride home is generally less crowded. Sometimes there are even.. *gasp* seats! The funny thing is, when presented with a standing room only BART car, most people just stand wherever, unafraid to get too close to the "meeeeeeeetyaa!" guy and grateful that they made it on at all.
When given the choice of where to sit, however, the average BART rider becomes a total retard.
There was this one time that I sat behind an empty row (each row is comprised of two seats). One of the seats in this empty row had vomit on it. Every other row in the entire car had at least one person sitting in it. This means that anyone who stepped into the bart car was presented with two options:
a.) Share a row with a stranger
b.) Have your own row but sit next to the vomit.
To simplify this dilemma I will phrase the options like this:
a.) sit next to a person
b.) sit next to vomit
Everyone* who came into the BART car (while I was there to observe**) CHOSE THE VOMIT. EVERY SINGLE ONE. They would scope out the car, take a look at the vomit, SHRUG and then sit down next to barf. Eventually they'd change their minds and move...just in time for some other jackass to show up and chose barf over people too.
*about five or six people
**about 25 minutes
Not only does it force people from all walks of life to crunch together (armpit to face, crotch to face, butt to face, face to face, butt to butt and so on...) but it does so during man's weakest hours --- weekday mornings.
Students, worker bees, Executives, Executives to be and the like, willingly step into crowded, and often stank, spaces just to make it to work on time. We do it with pleasure! "What?, I have to stand next to a guy who's gonna yell 'meeetyaaaa! gagagagagagagagagagaga meeeeetyaaaaaaa!' the whole way. What? I might still hear him over my headphones and perhaps feel his breath on my face. Oh and he smells like the shoe section of the Salvation Army? ... well at least I caught the train!"
The BART ride home is generally less crowded. Sometimes there are even.. *gasp* seats! The funny thing is, when presented with a standing room only BART car, most people just stand wherever, unafraid to get too close to the "meeeeeeeetyaa!" guy and grateful that they made it on at all.
When given the choice of where to sit, however, the average BART rider becomes a total retard.
There was this one time that I sat behind an empty row (each row is comprised of two seats). One of the seats in this empty row had vomit on it. Every other row in the entire car had at least one person sitting in it. This means that anyone who stepped into the bart car was presented with two options:
a.) Share a row with a stranger
b.) Have your own row but sit next to the vomit.
To simplify this dilemma I will phrase the options like this:
a.) sit next to a person
b.) sit next to vomit
Everyone* who came into the BART car (while I was there to observe**) CHOSE THE VOMIT. EVERY SINGLE ONE. They would scope out the car, take a look at the vomit, SHRUG and then sit down next to barf. Eventually they'd change their minds and move...just in time for some other jackass to show up and chose barf over people too.
*about five or six people
**about 25 minutes
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Bad Momma
After months of reckless fun (and an alarming disregard for my Comcast bill) I've decided to reintroduce a little discipline to my life. This entails scraping all the dust bunnies together to form one BIG dust bunny and throwing away all of the vegetables in my refrigerator that I neglected to use.
It's funny how doing something as simple as paying Sallie Mae or putting the recylables in the normal trash can make me feel so accomplished.
Part of Reckless Spring '07 was getting to know/ falling in like with San Francisco proper. Obviously, Oakland is home and I love it and will never leave it etc. But some parts of SF are certainly tempting. Namely the puestecitos (little stands) of Mexican food in the Mission. Sometimes when I walk around the Mission I feel like I'm in Guadalajara. No place in LA resembles Guadalajara the way the Mission does.
God, no.. I can't! Oakland 4 life! Oakland 4 life! If only they could fix the potholes, lose the one way streets and take down this godawful confusing sign.
It's funny how doing something as simple as paying Sallie Mae or putting the recylables in the normal trash can make me feel so accomplished.
Part of Reckless Spring '07 was getting to know/ falling in like with San Francisco proper. Obviously, Oakland is home and I love it and will never leave it etc. But some parts of SF are certainly tempting. Namely the puestecitos (little stands) of Mexican food in the Mission. Sometimes when I walk around the Mission I feel like I'm in Guadalajara. No place in LA resembles Guadalajara the way the Mission does.
God, no.. I can't! Oakland 4 life! Oakland 4 life! If only they could fix the potholes, lose the one way streets and take down this godawful confusing sign.
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