BBBS 6 - A Time Warp To The 80’s

In an effort to be more fun, I am going to be fun if it kills me damit, instead of giving Ms. Little a list of options for activities we could do together and letting her pick from that list I gave Ms. Little free choice for what we would do on our outing this week. I gave myself the right to veto anything that was too expensive but aside from that I vowed I would do whatever she wanted. When I asked her she paused in thought, and as I prayed she would pick something reasonably doable like build a sandcastle instead of something like take her to the moon, she opened her cute mouth and let me know that she decided that she would like me to take her to the roller-skating rink. That she had a pair of hand me down skates once and really liked to skate around the house she had never been to an actual rink.

SHIT! SSSSHHHHHHHIIIIIIIITTTTTT!!! I have not roller-skated in 16 years and I really don’t think that the images I am having of me falling uncoordinated yard sale style all over the place and breaking various limbs while I am flailing at the rink with a ton of kids laughing at me is really the image I am going for. Cant we just have tea? No I took a vow and now I must bear my cross like a good little Christian. The rink here we come.

Now I was not always this terrified at the prospect of spending a few hours at the rink, I actually used to be quite the roller-skating demon. My mother, having had kids at a young age, has the type of energy that I will probably lack having a child in my 30s rather than my 20s. However I was able to reap the benefits of having a mom who not only loved roller-skating but was also young enough to still be one of the best skaters on the rink. I remember she always used to skate backwards faster than I could ever hope to skate forwards and that whenever they did the parents racing she would almost always win to our grinning hero worshiping amazement. So a few times a month when we were young we would go to our local rink and spin around and around to the djs random picks from the best of the 80s. Even as I got older one of my favourite things to do would be to go to the rink on a Friday or Saturday night and hang out with my friends trying to chase boys or preferably be chased by boys as we played out our mini versions of relationship drama all in one night. To be asked to skate by the cutest boy at the end of the night couples slow song was considered the crowning success of the evening.

As Ms. Little and I walked into the darkened rink I was taken over with all these old memories. Getting our brown faded skates with their florescent orange wheels from the man behind the counter I was hesitant to put on the boots. As an adult and a person suffering from OCD I had flashes of all the sweaty foot fungus people that have worn these and the fact that the establishment did not seem to share my values of extreme cleanliness. Tossing caution to the wind I proceeded to put them on and hope that later my feet do not need to be amputated due to some really rare roller-skating foot fungus.

Standing up for the first time was pretty scary again the flashes of broken bones and mortification hit me but I pushed through and took a tiny skate forward. I have nothing to worry about, what was I so scared for, roller-skating is like riding a bike and I all of a sudden know that I am going to be a total champ. Ms. Little was delightful with wonder at all the things that come with the rink; the smooth wooden floor, the low darkened lights, the disco ball and the accent strobes, the booming music, and the really good skaters that I used to love to watch and aspire to as a kid.

We ended up skating for three hours with very little time for breaks. After her initial hesitation she found out that she was pretty good and we proceeded to play tag and push each other over. All in all it was a pretty fun outing spent with lots of giggles and her falling all over the place. I was very proud that I kept my skates on the ground and my butt in the air and she was super ecstatic at finally being able to say she has been to the rink.

A Belated Sushi Birthday

Today was the rescheduling of Ms. Sweetie’s birthday dinner where we went with a bunch of friends to drink Sake and gorge on sushi. I had a Caterpillar Roll, my favourite, and a rainbow roll, with vegetable tempura as an appetizer, a peach martini to drink, and of course salty edamame to wet the pallet. Los Angeles has impacted me mostly with my cuisine. With some of the best restaurants in the world within a drivable distance my very limited acceptance of what was edible and what was not has expanded to huge proportions. Maybe not diversely or quickly enough for some of the people in my circle but if they could only have seen what I would have eaten before I moved to LA. The top newly discovered food that I would want to take with me to a deserted island would be sushi. And thank god for that because an island is surrounded by water, and water has fish and seaweed, so fresh sushi should not be to hard to manage.

Following A Path To The Good Life

I have been contemplating the value of friendship and its role in my life. I see my friends falling loosely into one of two categories; those that have a shared understanding of life similar to my own and those that create a contest or a challenge that make me question my values about myself and push me along my path by their very different ideals. Generally I try and surround myself with people who I feel are good people, people that do not weigh me down with negative interactions, people that give me something to think about and connect to. However lately I have been wondering about various friends who I believe to have crossed moral lines that I am severely opposed to and how I should handle these digressions.

A friendship like any relationship needs to be built on trust and commitment and you have to accept them for who they are as a whole package. However I am wondering if the crossing of these lines should prompt me to take a greater action against it other than claiming ignorance to myself. I try and surround myself with people that make me a better person, people that provide positive role models but when these people have parts of them that make me respect them a WHOLE lot less then when is the time to turn away and cut your losses.

Should I move forward with some type of liberalism that friends should be free to determine and pursue their own ends to the extent that as long as those choices don’t interfere with the ability for me to do likewise then everything is fine, or should this be a clear call to back away and create some distance to think? If I am true to myself and I am striving to find my perfect “True Nature” and reach my full potential then how can I do this with these tainted friends. I know if I use reason I should walk away but if I use motives based on the friendship and love I have I should stay.

I do not want to impose my will on the world but I believe in certain things, certain rules that I follow and I guess I always assumed that there were a few basic rules that the type of people I would be attracted to for a friendship would follow as well. I know no one is perfect or infallible but looking at some of these things raises the question of how I should live my life, what type of people I want to associate with, and what type of behaviour I am willing to tolerate.

Vehicular Masturbation

Today I am driving to a meeting with my head hunter, attempting to get back on the horse and get a job because my wonderful husband of only three months casually mentioned/threatened that if I did not find something soon then I would just have to get a job at a restaurant and back to waitressing. Gasp the HOROR. That is the problem with marrying your soul mate; they are superb at pushing the exact right buttons to get you to do what they want. So with the fear of donning an apron again (I have 8 years experience putting myself through college with waitressing) and taking other peoples crap with a smile I am off to the meeting with the head hunter to attempt to get a real job. I would be lying if I did not feel the allure of sitting at home for a while, at taking advantage of the fact that I am currently unemployed. It would be nice to just take some time off and decompress, because when in our society is that EVER allowed. A little part of me is rejoicing that the job market is crappy, at least it is rejoicing for now; it may be much quieter if I have not found a job in two months.

Back to the driving, today it was in uncomfortably bad traffic for a Thursday afternoon. I was on my way to downtown and I began to wonder and daydream what it would be like move back to Michigan. Live in the country where cars do not get within 20 feet of each other, where people let you over when you turn on the blinker instead of shaking their head at your stupidity of letting them know ahead of time that you want to get over and as they speed up and give you the middle finger you know to never do that again, where everyone follows the speed limit and I am not left shaking with rage at least twice upon a drive somewhere. If I could just take most of the cars off the street here I think I would officially dub LA the most wonderful place in the world (oops, P.S. God could you also erase the smog).

After a half hour of slinking through barely moving traffic I come upon the cause of the slowdown on the expressway. There is an accident, which is nothing new because it is just like very other day on the LA expressways, but today it bugged me more than normal. As I watched everyone and their mother press on their breaks and crane their necks to view the vehicular carnage that was being cleaned up I am left super frustrated because I cannot understand the horrible morbid curiosity that draws people to stare at the wreckage. That person who was in that car is someone’s brother or sister, mother or father and people flock their eyes to watch the wreckage like vultures feeding upon these peoples misery as if it was some show on CSI. Are we just happy it is not us, are we all just voyeurs at heart, or do some people truly get a kick out of other peoples pain.

Beside the fact that I think it is rude and inhumane to stare I also hate the fact that because of other peoples morbid curiosity I am delayed in getting to where I want to be, not because of the actual accident but because the fan club are slowing down to see everything they can in the two point five seconds it takes for them to drive by. If people would just mind their own business then we can all get on with our lives and let them rebuild their own.

Confessions of a Shop-a-holic

Today Ms. Sweetie and I went to Ikea on a mission for her to scope out a dresser and an entertainment center for her new apartment. Since she had never been to an Ikea before she did not know the amazingness of the most wonderful utilitarian furniture shopping ever, I am pleased to say she loved it so much she said “I could spend a million dollars here, I want to take it all home”. I was so excited to go with her and even though I am on a shopping embargo due to lack of job therefore lack of funds for new things I even picked up a few things for me because technically they were not for me they were for the house and the house needed them.

I got these great new beige seat cushions for the kitchen table chairs and since they were 100% cotton and you could wash them in the washer they were perfect (the ones I had previously were a suede material and they were not holding up well to the wear and the cat hair stuck to the material like glue).



Rivta Cotton Seat Cushions – w/Velcro straps
Originally they are $5.99 but at the location near my home I got them on sale for $4.99

I also picked up this white duvet for our bedroom comforter. I have another one that is fancier that I put on when company comes over but because I have two cats and a dog I like the white for everyday wear because it does not show as much wear and I can bleach it.

Ofelia Vass 205 Count Duvet

for $49.99

Screaming Muscles

Today I worked out for two hours which normally is not usual. However with my recent trip to Michigan to visit an ailing grandfather which required a lot of sitting in planes, sitting in airports, sitting in cars, sitting at the hospital there was not a lot of activity or time to workout. And then my recent trip to San Francisco which mostly just worked out my right arm lifting drinks it has been 10 long days since I have done ANY type of workout.

So after my two hour marathon workout I went out for sushi with the girls. Today the topic of discussion was the new girl in class, the girl with the perfect body, the girl you cannot help but compare yourself with and fall very very short. I wonder do these perfect women have no hobbies other than working out. Are they slaves to their workout regiment, do they exercise 3 hours each and every day, do they never skip a planned meal, do they ever sneak a brownie or a piece of cake, do they do anything other than workout their precious body? Because I can’t seem to keep my life and all my interests, a full time job, my husband happy, and our house clean, chores done, errands run AND strive for that perfect body. I am going to ask her how she does it, how she gets the most amazing body, and I swear her answer better be “I work out 8 hours a day and never stray from a diet of celery” if it isn't then stand back because I am going to think about getting violent. However if the answer is “Perfect Genes” then I think I will fall onto the ground into a perfect replica of an enraged toddler having the most heinous fit you can imagine.

After dragging myself out of the sushi restaurant and into my car I managed to get home, take a hot shower and get in my comfy clothes before I fell into a useless puddle not unlike what I think a giant puddle of jello would look like. God I hurt, it hurts to type, it hurts to sit, and it hurts to move. If you ever work out you know that the day after your workout is normally when you begin to feel pain of any kind, you also know that if you begin to feel pain right AFTER your workout then you are in big big trouble because that pain is only going to get much worse. Even with the pain I do feel good though, because I feel healthy and alive. And even though I think I will always strive to have a perfect body and fail miserably because I cannot resist that piece of cake and I cannot make myself go to the gym every day I still love in general who I am as a whole. I will skip the gym tomorrow, I will skip the gym and do nothing all day except eat cake, I will think of the perfect girl with her perfect body working out all day and I will not feel bad, because I am not perfect, and because I can.

Michigan: Here Comes The Sun

Today I am in a good mood and despite many obstacles I am still ecstatically happy. I did not sleep a wink last night for many many many reasons. For one because both my father and I had to get up at an ungodly hour we opted to let my aunt (who is staying at the house to take care of grandpa) have the one and only other real bed in the house, that left me stretched out on the pullout couch, the horrible pullout couch that I voluntarily offered to sleep on, the bed in my grandpas house with the thin mattress and the big metal bar that seems to jab you right in the middle of the back no matter where you try and shift your position. But that was not the only thing in the way between me and sleep there was also the beautiful wooden grandfather clock that is about 4 feet from my very uncomfortable bed that chimes every 15 minutes, chimes LOUDLY every 15 minutes, that gives me just enough time between chimes to ALMOST fall asleep, that chimes so loudly as if to taunt me that sleep is just out of my reach that l wanted to grab the nearest cane and smash its polished elegance into itty bitty chimeless pieces. Then there was the fact that my grandfather is frail and old and insists that the temperature in the house needs to be set at 80 degrees, it was so hot in that house I felt like rotisserie chicken which is super uncomfortable, at least grandpa was happy. Then there was the snoring trio of my grandfather (which was the loudest) my aunt who took second place and my father who was a distant rumble in the background. Do you remember being a kid and sleeping in the woods on a camping trip, the frogs would yowl, the crickets would chirp, and the owls would hoot and since you were not used to this particular symphony it would drive you crazy. Well maybe I am more particular because of my noise issue but this particular snoring symphony/chiming nightmare was my own personal version of hell.

Then lastly because all of the above I was left there in the dark thinking, which then turned to brooding, which then turned to obsessively listening for every breath that my grandfather took because I was OBSESSED with the fact that he was going to stop breathing. In between each loud snore, in the pause it took him to take another gulping breath I was sure he was not going to take another and when he did my breath would rush out and then I would hold it again waiting for the next breath he took. At one point in the night he stopped snoring and I sat in bed for a full minute thinking that I was imagining it, and if I wasn’t then I should get up and check, because then I could call the ambulance and get him to the hospital in time. But I paused because could I really go through that again, walk into a room and find someone not breathing, I barely lived though it once could I do it again. And then I got out of bed to check, I stood in his room and tried to see the rising and falling of his chest in the dim light, and then I heard the soft whooshing of his breath and I realized he was fine, that he had just turned onto his side and was snoring so softly I could not hear it from the other room. Taking a moment I thanked god that I was wrong and then I cursed at this paranoia that I will probably have to live with for the rest of my life.

Exiting the room I ran into my aunt who had gotten out of bed also to investigate the non-noise coming from grandpa’s room. After I assured her he was fine I crawled back into my horribly uncomfortable bed and finally exhausted both mentally and physically I fell asleep. Next time I am going to just smash the clock, duct tape the mouths of my loving family and count sheep.

So getting up at 3:45 am I managed to get one hour of sleep and I am in a good mood because today I am getting up so early to brave the freezing cold because I am going to spend 11 hours traveling back home to my husband, my house, my animal menagerie, and temperatures that make me smile in anticipation. So today I will sing in my head “Here comes the sun… do do do do”.

Thin Fragile Line

There are layers of things under the surface, like a thin fragile lines between other levels of consciousness that open up when you experience things. As you grow up and gain more experience, move to different levels of being, you learn new things; some good things like graduating college, marriage, love, and the birth of a healthy beautiful child. And then there are the bad levels; death, betrayal, and disasters you have no control over. You find places and things that I never knew existed.

When I was younger I never thought I was weak, I never understood people who were weak. I thought that they faced adversity and lost, just rolled over and gave up, I know now that I was VERY VERY wrong. I have to live my life now with the constant fear that someone else is going to die, they are going to just stop breathing and die, and I don’t recognize myself because after grief like this I became someone else, someone I don’t recognise, a stranger in my own skin. There is no going back, no matter how much I want to. I wish I could forget, go back, but I can’t.

Michigan: Beauty Of Winter

Despite all my griping and moaning about the frozen hell I am stuck in there are some things, very few things, about winter that is just so beautiful, the light is so diffuse, the color pallet a muted tone of a million grey’s, the quiet that the snow absorbs can be deafening, the crispness of the frigid clean morning air and the snow sparkles in beautiful brilliance. I chanced getting frostbite taking these pictures but I could not help myself. Here are some of my favourite shots I took over the past week.

Michigan: The Painful Smell

There is a smell about hospitals a type of antiseptic painful smell that causes my stomach to churn, a smell that reminds me of every person that I have ever loved that has died. Tonight I have the night shift, I cannot sleep, and I watch my grandfather sleep. Every time he takes a rattled breath with a slight pause I wonder if it is the last breath he will ever take and my brain seizes up and I feel like I am going to vomit because the pain is so acute so close to the surface. I wish I could open the windows or whisk him away back home just so I can get out of this nauseating place.

On top of the fact that the smell really is triggering many repressed memories I would rather not think about right now, or ever, I have to deal with my grandfather’s roommate, a roommate that I should really pity. He has had no visitors in the 10 days my grandfather has been sharing a room with him, he is obviously at the hospital which we can all agree on SUCKS, but right now he is snoring so loudly, a wet rattled, oh my god how can he breath through all that snot kind of way and I am gagging every other minute. It isn’t even like I can ignore the sound, or throw on a pair of earphones, I am after all at the hospital in case grandpa needs something, and I cannot just try and tune out the room. And really I don’t even think Marilyn Mansion played at the highest decibel can cover up this freak of nature sound. I am torn between making a ton of noise so he wakes up so he can get a drink of water or SOMETHING or going over there with a large pillow and putting the poor man out of his misery. As the nurse comes around 5 minutes later to take vitals of both the patients and administer pain medication I cannot help but wonder if the doctor could give anything to me so I can sleep through the next 5 days. At least taking the vital signs woke up Mr. Loud Rattled Snoring man and he shifted positions so he is quiet now. I still don’t think I am going to be able to sleep with all this drama making laps in my head. I really do hate hospitals.

My Upset Little

I joined the Big Brother Big Sister organization because I believed in their mission of helping an individual child and focusing all my attention on making a big difference in one persons life. And although it has been hard to try and connect with a kid when I don’t have one myself and I don’t associate with kids I thought we were working toward an understanding, a growing friendship, I thought we were having fun. However I received a call from my case worker at the organization and learned that Ms. Little is not very happy because of many things.

One is that with events that have kept me away from my little for a month. I can only see her now on the weekends because of her curfew on a school night. So for two weekends I was camping with my family for Christmas, I over booked a weekend, then I was out of town to San Francisco, then I had to cancel plans last weekend because I was out of town visiting a sick grandfather in the hospital. Because of these things she has not seen me in a while and she has a brother and a sister in the organization that both are doing cool expensive things like going to Magic Mountain, skiing at Mammoth Mountain, and basketball games. I on the other hand have been doing less expensive things with Ms. Little like bake cookies, seeing the Nutcracker, and planting a cactus garden. Although the case worker explained to Ms. Little the reasons I have been kept from hanging out with her she is 10 and does not understand. Although the caseworker explained that the goal of BBBS is not to spend the most money but to provide a mentor she is 10 and does not understand. I am now going to be trying to do a few more things that cost a bit more but I don’t know if I am going to be able to do what the other big’s do because I have lost my job and income is drastically lower. I also feel resentful that I have to compete with the other big’s like I am lacking in how I am doing this, this creating of a relationship that I have never done before. So now the high expectations I had of bonding immediately with nothing but blue skies and smooth sailing are flying out the window and I cannot help but be a little bit ungrateful and upset with my expectations.

Michigan: When Enough Is Enough

I am sitting here, gazing out the hospital window as my grandfather is sleeping, contemplating the wonders of modern medicine and asking myself when enough is enough. On one hand I am so VERY thankful that grandpa is doing better, he was in acute kidney failure due to a terrible bladder infection I am happy he is here for me to talk to and laugh with but I am also concerned with the definition of quality of life.



My grandpa is a proud 86 year old man who up until a month ago was in great health, now he is lying in a bed on such a cocktail of drugs that he is sleeping most of the time and so weak that he cannot even go to the bathroom by himself. He was within an hour of dying his kidneys were so bad. If it was 100 years ago he would have passed away in his sleep or surrounded by family in his own bed from some unknown ailment. Now because we can cure so much and prolong life he is looking at constant pain, lost of any type of mobility, and since he lives alone and refuses to go to a nursing home he will need to be watched by a family member or nurse 24 hours a day. The work that the family does is not the problem at all. We love him so much and we would keep him with us forever but that is a very selfish reason, a reason that we feel like we need him here. What about what he wants, I think the problem is will he be happy living this way.

How far should we push technology, when are we going to far, is it worth it to keep pushing death further and further, he is exhausted from everything we have done to save him. Are we just being selfish trying to keep our elders around? What kind of life will he be leading? Is that I life I would ever want?

His wife is gone, all his brother and sisters are gone, all his friends are gone, all his cousins are gone. Because he was the youngest of the family and the healthiest the only people left that he loves are his children and grandchildren. That has to be so sad living when so many of everyone you know are gone. Our immediate biggest worry right now when he gets released from the hospital is preventing him from falling and breaking a hip or getting pneumonia, keep his health stable or preferably getting better, and most importantly keeping him out of a nursing home where he will just give up and waste away. I am so sorry to see him like this, feeling like a burden, not being able to do the simplest things himself. I hope he gets better, and happier, and healthier or that his end comes quickly and painlessly in his sleep.

Michigan: Babies Make Everything OK

My brother and his wife brought my adorable nephew Baby Lambchop’s to the house today and despite my father and my lack of sleep and general crabbiness we were ecstatic to see them. Nothing makes a bad day better than a sweet chubby bundle of baby fat and family. As far as babies go he is the best, he is cute as a button, quiet, with a giggly temperament just like his mom. With me having baby on the brain, this is now the second baby I have held in 4 days, I am starting to super crave a baby like my ovaries are in overdrive and my biological clock is going way to fast. Because Baby Lambchop’s is still considered an infant and too young to visit grandpa at the hospital Mrs. Lambchop, Baby Lambchop and I will be staying at the house while my brother and my father swing by for a visit with grandpa. Mrs. Lambchop and I talked about babies, how they change your life, how for the first 6 months you are just trying to keep the baby alive, how you become completely absorbed in bowl movements, feeding times, naps and smiles. I am becoming desperate to join the club.

I was fascinated by how much he had grown in the two months since I last saw him. He could now sit and he was much more alert to what was going on around him. I could begin to see his little unique personality shine through. Adorable baby clothes, cute little feet, divine baby smell, I wanted to keep him in my arms forever. Since I am sure his parents would object to me kidnapping their bundle of joy I conceded to just taking a ton of photos instead. Poor kid is probably going to need glasses because I took a little to many with the flash on. Sorry Baby Lambchop.


HE IS PICKING MY NOSE AND SMILING ABOUT IT – HE IS SUCH A BOOGER


HE IS ATTEMPTING TO CRAWL


CONTEMPLATING ME




WE FED HIM A LEMON BECAUSE WE CAN



HOW BABY LAMBCHOP ENDED UP WITH IS NAME – LOOK AT THOSE ADORABLE CHUBBY LEGS

Michigan: The Longest Day Ever

UGGGG beating me and locking me in a cold dark cell would be more humane then the past two days I have had to endure. My grandfather is alive but I was unprepared for how truly lifeless and terrible he looked. I last saw him the day after my wedding, it was October 19th he was in good health and happy. Now he is a husk of a man, a shell hooked up to various machines and struggling to survive, he reminded me so much of my grandma, his wife, in the hospital right before she died. As I kissed his wrinkled withered check covered in a few days of stubble I fought to hold back the fold of tears at seeing him in such bad health.

It is terrible to watch and feel so helpless to do anything but hold his hand and tell him to keep fighting. We have devised a 24 hour schedule to be split up by various family members so he is never left alone, it is a two prong strategy so that someone will be there to fix his sheets, get him water or harass a nurse to help him; and to be there in case he passes, so someone who loves him will be there at his last moment, it is a chilling thought but a precaution I hope my family will take if I am ever in the hospital.

I have not slept for 62 hours besides the small nap cramped in an uncomfortable chair for 20 minutes here and there on the plane and after my weekend is San Francisco I am desperate for some quality sleep. The nightmares that I have won’t plague me tonight, I am way too exhausted for them to plague me, I will be thankful for that at least.

Michigan: This Is Not Weather This Is Hell

The temperature here in Michigan is 5 degrees. Yes pause with me for a moment and gasp in terror as I did when I walked out from the heated airport and into the freezing cold dawn. And yes I know I grew up here, that you think I should be used to this, but the past 4 years living in Los Angeles has thinned my skin down so much that I can only tolerate perfect sunny Southern California weather, anything less than this and my body is royally pissed off. When the plane took off from LA it was 80 degrees, I was in a sundress and sandals; now landing in Michigan I resemble some shapeless multilayered blob covered from head to toe in sweaters, gloves, scarf, hat, and an oversized coat. Anything I could throw on my body to attempt to keep it warm. I hate winter in Michigan and I think my body is allergic to the cold.

What I hate MOST about winter:

1. The temperature that freezes every piece of water including the air in my lungs.

2. Shitty driving conditions that causes your car to careen out of control – and even worse then worrying about your own driving is worrying about all the assholes on the road who don’t know how to drive and cause countless of accidents.

3. Snow and Salt that has to cover every inch of every walking and driving surface ruining not only my shoes (which in my world is a heinous crime punishable by death by dismemberment) but corroding metal on the cars too.

Michigan: One Frozen Californian

This morning the girls and I woke up well rested and happy. Ms. Partypants; narrowly missing getting a ticket for talking on the phone, not wearing a seatbelt AND going the wrong way on a one way street, got to the hotel and whisked us away to the Recovery room buffet. This is a restaurant aptly named for their all you can drink Mimosas or Bloody Mary’s, which may or not be heaven on earth for a severe late night Saturday hangover. Breakfast was gourmet heaven with super tasty delights like my favourite goat cheese and wild mushroom pizza.

Wrapping up our girls weekend and getting ready to go back home I learned that my grandfather who lives in Michigan is doing worse or better according to which Rogue Aunt you talk to (there are three of them with all various levels of reality) it never pays to get information second hand. So my father and I have decided to purchase plane tickets, despite my lack of job and funds, because in 10 years I won’t care about the million dollars I had to pay for the same day tickets I will care if I get to see my grandpa one last time. I would have never forgiven myself if I had chosen money over love. So once getting home back to LA I unpacked my summery San Francisco clothes from my suitcase and I replaced them with horrible warm clothes that will keep me from freezing to death in the sub-zero temperatures. Or at least that is what I am hoping, the NOT becoming a human Popsicle, damn Michigan. I then drove the hour to my uncle’s house to pick up my father in Riverside and drive him back to LA so we could get to the airport in time for our flight.

I am off on the red-eye with my father, a red-eye and then straight to the hospital. I know I probably won’t sleep on the plane it is going to be and exhausting trip that I am not sure I have enough reserves to handle it very gracefully seeing as I drank my reserves away this past weekend partying with my friends. I am going to be one bitchy, freezing cold, California praying that my grandpa gets better.

San Francisco: What’s The Damage

We all woke up around 9:30AM in relatively good spirits, all our body parts were still intact and none of us seemed to have suffered any permanent damage to our brain. We counted the evening successful… that is until Mrs. Cutie Pie realized that she had lost her debit card sometime in the night, which resulted in a half an hour frantic search, acceptance that it was missing, remorse at its lost, and then calling the cc company to turn it off. All in all the grieving process was relatively short.

We met up at a great diner that supposedly had amazing breakfast with Mrs. Cutie Pie’s brother. We were unfortunately missing Ms. Partypants who was trying to get rid of the 4 people she had over after they left the club at 4 and the Edward Cullen look alike she hooked up with. Instead of ordering the breakfast that we heard raved about we all ended up ordered sandwiches. I don’t know what came over us but on the drive we decided on a breakfast place and then I decided that I could not go on with life unless I had a burger immediately. I knew a burger would be the best post drinking breakfast, or at least that is what I hoped. After Mrs. Cutie Pie’s brother dropped us back off at the hotel Ms. Partypants was finally ready to swing by and pick us up. Mrs. Bulldog and I were hanging out in the backseat scoping out the scene and I was getting a mini tour of the city sites. Mrs Cutie Pie was struggling to keep her burger down and failed on this side of the bridge AND the other. Pour thing has a sensitive stomach not that Mrs. Partypants erratic driving helped any (she drives like a maniac and that says a lot coming from ME). Thank God when I started hanging out with the OC girls I realized that the part of the night after I had had a lot to drink, when I start to think that “Hey, I can keep up with these guys get me ANOTHER drink” then I know it is time to stop drinking because I have just crossed over into the realm of not being able to make rational choices. These girls can really DRINK and I am such a lightweight that only a few drinks will have me dancing on tables and wishing the next morning that someone had not clubbed me like a baby seal. It has managed to keep me from having a terrible hangover when I can remember to listen to my own saying.

Next we swung by Mrs. Partypants sisters house who has just had a sweet chubby baby boy. As we walk in, three of the four of us just recently married women, our group eyes quickly sweep the room until they land on the bundle of chuckles and rolls. As we all stare at him like a pack of hungry wolves we all start to think about how fast we can get home and start making our own sweet delectable baby. I seem to be having the urge to procreate every time I see a baby, they are like little crack pellets for my unused uterus. MUST STAY AWAY FROM THE CRACK, I am totally not ready for this much responsibility.

After prying ourselves away from the little delightful baby we were off so I could see the Golden Gate Bridge. Since this was the first time I was visiting San Francisco I was super thankful that God answered my prayers and allowed a unfoggy very clear day, something that I hear only happens a 24/365days out of the year. Unfortunately for me, since I usually don’t leave the house unless I am in a skirt and high heels, which makes me totally cool in town but a completely inappropriate dresser for most outdoor occasions, I was very unprepared to climb up the gravel hill to get to the lookout station for the Golden Gate Bridge. My new Aldo boots provided no traction or protection on the gravel and my mini skirt was difficult to keep over my bottom in the blistery winds. I would damn my personal stylist but that would be me and since the boots were damn smoking hot I will damn the men in the city who should have installed cement steps on what is very obviously a route to a VERY popular lookout area.

Going down the hill hurt my unprotected feet ten times worse then going up the hill, it hurt so much I considered leaving my shoes there on the side of the hill and limping down barefoot. And I know that is insanity because I LOVE these shoes, so I continue to march down holding my skirt and gritting my teeth.

Driving under the bridge and looking out the moon roof of the car I was able to capture my favourite shot of the weekend. I really love the red and the blue bold colors and the striking angle of all the lines. This art deco bridge is JUST BEAUTIFUL.

Getting back to the hotel we were pooped; we climbed out of our cloths, turned out the lights, and crashed for two hours. We were napping like three toddlers who had just sung a song ate cookies and were put down on mini pallets. I almost groaned when the alarm went off and we were hustled to get ready to head out for dinner at the sushi restaurant. Again this bar/restaurant like last nights was JAM PACKED with people and so hot you could consider it rivalling the temperature of the sun. The bar was so happening that it did not look like we were ever getting seated so after an hour and two martinis we ditched the sauna sushi bar to go to the “Not so happening sushi bar” right down the street. Here we were immediately sat, the food tasted divine, although I am not sure if it was because this particular chef was amazing or if it was peppered with hunger.

After dinner we took off to go to a bar with a pool table, which after our vote for a quiet wine bar was turned down was my only stipulation that was passed through the rest of the group. We headed off to KT which was another hot and crowded bar with good drinks and surprisingly a lot of really cute men (not that I was looking for me I was scoping out for my very cute eligible single girlfriends). As I gazed around I saw something that caught my eye, 4 times out of 5 the men here seem to be carrying some type of man purse. As I continued to look I was shocked at how many were sporting this unmanly contraption. The murse as Ms. Giggles and I dubbed it were somewhat nondescript small bags slung over muscled shoulders, some had less feminine bags that resembled mini backpacks but we found it all very strange. Like really they were all wearing jeans why couldn’t they just put the wallet and phone in their pockets like the rest of the male race, and if they were carrying a murse and the wallet and phone were in the jeans then what the hell was in the bag? Perhaps they carried spare pairs of boxers, deodorant, mouthwash, and excessive amounts of condoms. I wish I had time to delve into what they were lugging around but my attention was captured by the pool table.

Unfortunately after only a few minutes I got in an argument with a large and stupid man who I swear would have problems counting higher than 10, then I was crabby at the heat in the bar, and then to put icing on the cake I played like dog shit. So despite the dreadfully early hour of midnight when Mrs. Bulldog claimed she was not feeling well I jumped at the opportunity to slink to the hotel and sink into the uber heavenly mattress.

Back in the room we stayed up for two hours gossiping, sharing stories, and basically bitching and moaning, it really felt like a great sleepover and I was so happy we had left the bar. I think I have concluded that life with early twenty something singles is like shaking a bottle of pop and then watching the pressure build right before you open it. So much fun to shake it and open it but not so fun to clean up. I loved visiting but I think if I was going to live this fast paced lifestyle again I will need a few months to train before I jump back into the game.

San Francisco: Weekend Extravaganza Trip

I am so happy that on the first day I am officially unemployed I scheduled a mini trip with my great married friends. What excellent foresight I have. I am going with Mrs. Bulldog and Mrs. Cutie Pie on girl’s weekend extravaganza getaway in San Francisco to visit our super fabulous single friend Ms Partypants. Surprisingly, if you know or have ever been in LA traffic, everyone managed to arrive at my place on time, I know GASP. We were all out the door and ready to go when my cousin Mrs. Sweetie arrived jobless so able to Shaffer us to the airport. Because we are all girls and because my cousin drives a small car we decided to take my Jeep, which is so much more comfy with all the people and all the bags. Unfortunately because Mrs. Sweetie just moved here and is still finding her way driving was a bit difficult. As we were entering the expressway she managed to scrape the tire off the edge of the curb, then the car started making all kinds of noise, or maybe I was just paranoid of popping a tire on the 405 expressway with a new driver behind the wheel of my car, so I made her pull over so we could just take a peek at what I knew was going to be a mangled tire. Checking it I confirmed that the tire was a OK and I was just a paranoid mess.

After getting all our things out of the car and bidding our fledgling driver goodbye we went in search of the ticketing counter. Now after 20 min of going up and down the elevator and then checking for directions we managed to locate the counter. I ask you how many people it takes to find a counter, in our case 1 blonde, 1 blonde who dyed her hair brunette (she is totally just trying to be smarter) and a true brunette. We were sadly lacking in direction help and this is when I wish my husband was here. Usually just follow him at the airport, and I can pay attention to people watching. This is yet another reason NOT to get married or super involved in a relationship. One person always handles certain tasks which are great when you are together, but when you are separated it really becomes very difficult to do some of the simplest things. I feel completely out of my element like I am trying to knit with a missing right arm.

This was my first time flying Virgin Atlantic, the plane was really cool with pink and purple neon lights and every seat had its own entertainment center with games, TV and movies. The short plane flight also made me super happy and we were pretty entertained sitting in the back of the plane with the cool gay flight attendant paying us a lot of attention and making us laugh at his silly jokes. I really need to replace my old token gay (who I lost when I moved from Pittsburgh to LA) friend with another, I really miss him most when I find another cool gay man, and they truly are the loophole for girls in a relationship. I wish I could put him in my pocket and take him with me. Alas he lives in San Diego with his mom and 10 cats, figures.


VIRGIN ATLANTIC PLANE RIDE

When we booked the flight a few months earlier we were able to get a great deal for both the plane tickets and the hotel. We are staying at the Fairmount hotel which was built in 1906.

SIDE NOTE:I heard a cool story about the Fairmount which I have no other supporting evidence other than the gossiping girl who told it to me and she is TOTALLY cool so I am taking it as fact. The Fairmount hotel was started by a rich railroad man who was competing with several other rich railroad men to see who could build the most beautiful and luxurious hotel in the trendy San Francisco block. The particular man who was attempting to buy the land for the Fairmount purchased all the stores sans one little laundry shop, which was owned by a little Chinese man. This Chinese man would not sell his store to the business tycoon and he forced his price to go higher and higher until in desperation the tycoon offered the Chinese man enough money so that he could buy his own block elsewhere in the city. With glee the man took the money and bough his own block and became a very wealthy man.

When we arrived I was in love with the old classic design, which is gorgeous because it has all the beauty of the old world and the convenience of the new. Our room had double high ceilings and enormous amount of floor space, comparatively to standard hotel rooms that I have stayed in this room was spacious and somewhat like heaven. Sigh I love heaven.


THE FAIRMOUNT HOTEL

It took us almost no time to check in, freshen up, and head out the door to be picked up by Mrs. Partypants. We went first to Solstice a Tapas bar with great drinks and killer apps. Here we met Mrs. Giggles who is a good friend from high school of Mrs. Partypants and we all LOVED HER. After our second round of martinis I started to Dr. Ruth Mrs. Giggles whole life. I am so bad because when I started hearing how she was talking about her current boyfriend and the man that she used to date I got all blunt on her ass and told her she needed to make some changes. That is just the way I roll all black and white no grey areas do this and this and then you will be happier. This type of tough love is generally kept under lock and key by my conscious mind but after two martinis the key was freely given and I was in danger of ostracising my new super cool friend. Thankfully she was the type to love a stranger telling her what to do with her life (I know rare indeed). I think we may be soul mates.


THE GANG AT SOLSTICE

Our night then took us to Lion’s Den, a dive bar where we met Mrs. Cutie Pie’s bother, her brothers new fiancés and her entourage. It was so hot that within 2 minutes I was VERY uncomfortable and the place was jammed from wall to wall with people. As the group got drunker and drunker we decided that dancing was next on the docket. So after an hour of roasting rotisserie style in the bar we jumped in a cab and were off to the club. With 4 of us piled in the back and our combined blood alcohol levels shooting way above normal we were chatting away and I could not help to wonder how much crazy stuff taxi drivers must overhear listening to snippets of conversations by their customers. I think if a cab driver started a blog it would be an interesting read. We had a great time in the cab and although I cannot remember much of the specifics we have a photo as proof of the amount of laughing that took place. I still wonder what was so funny?


4 OF US CRAMMED IN THE BACK OF THE TAXI

Stepping into the club I felt like I was transported back to my early 20’s the lighting was super low, the speakers were blasting music so loud you could not hear your screams over the noise, and the drinks were watered down and small. After a minute I lost my friends and spent the next half hour wandering from room to crowded weed scented room trying to find my group. Once found Ms. Giggles and I started to play the “We are super drunk lets take photos of ourselves game” and Ms. Giggles added a twist of shouting out concepts for us to act out on camera. Tyra Banks would be so proud with our results.


THUGS IN THE HOOD


SHOCKED


YOU JUST SAW YOUR BROTHER IN THE CORNER KISSING ANOTHER MAN AND YOU THOUGH HE WAS STRAIGHT


WE SEE BRAD PITT AND THERE MUST BE TWO OF THEM BECAUSE WE ARE LOOKING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS

After an hour and a half at the club the visiting married girls all bailed out and we took our drunk hot butts back to the hotel. It seems like the lifestyles of the single girl partying was taking its tool on my drunken married soul. I got to bed around 3:00AM and what I once considered an early night was now a proud moment that I had lasted so long.

The End of My Employment

Today after 3 years at this job I am finally free. The company is closing and I feel a mixture of sadness because my expendable income is now going from super fabulous to super nil and happiness that I will have time to spend with my grandfather who is ill and my parents who are in town for the next two months. So now I join millions of unemployed Americans sitting at home. I hope that I find something that is comparable to what I lost and that I am able to hold onto my home and my quality of life.

There were a lot of terrible things, things that cause my brain to hurt, things that I am going to put down here and then hopefully erase from my consciousness. I am afraid that I can do nothing about my unconsciousness because I am sure these things are burned into it like a big puss-filled scar that has left its mark on the skin.

Things I will not miss about my job:
1. 100 hour work weeks
2. Clients that have taken stupidity pills (they are the blue ones)
3. Clients that seem to have taken classes on how to piss me off because they do it so well
4. Horrible non-design members of the company that tear your designs apart in review after review before it even GETS in front of a client
5. Sleeping at my desk
6. Anything to do with Office 2007 or Vista

Not so favourite client quotes:
1. “Can we make that more blingy, zoomy, add more POW?” – because sound effects help me so much as effective criticism in the design process
2. “Can’t we do a flashing button to purchase because I heard that makes people want to click.” – nothing flashing is ok, unless you are on prostitute row in Germany, then I think it may be expected
3. “Make the whole site flash and sparkle.” – only if it is a site for Malibu Barbie will that ever be allowed
4. “I cannot have the website green I would never paint my kitchen that color!” – your personal design style and what color you would want your kitchen matters to me and your consumer how?
5. “Lets make the user take a survey before they can get onto our site.” – uh you have not even started conversation with the client – that is like asking a complete stranger to get married which is ok if you are Brad Pitt but a reality check you are no where near as hot as Brad
6. “Put this 174 word disclaimer on the front page.” – sure I will just cram it in between the 17 buttons and the ads you made me stick onto the homepage
7. “I want a 10 minute intro to the website, if no one wants to watch it they will just click the skip button.” – seriously I am not even going into why this is terrible

Although there were a lot of terrible things that come along with a job, any job, there are also things that I will remember fondly.

I will miss my work family. After spending most of my day with them they stared to grow on me. They are people that I had to interact with, be nice to, and somehow not kill, there were lots of politics, there were always people I loved, people I could care less about and people I almost hated. I was however mostly fortunate to have a great work family and I will miss not coming in and seeing them every day.



Things I will miss about my job:
1. There was this woman who came to freelance on a huge project, she hero worshiped me and loved doing anything to please. She was one of my favourite freelancers. Because this project was difficult and super hard I started being referred to as not human, or a robot, or my personal favourite wonder woman. Because the freelancer was forever at my side asking how she could help, if there was more work, or could I please just throw her a scrap of affection she started being referred to as wonder woman’s sidekick. Coming into work one day I found this attached to my computer…



I kept it as a reminder that I am amazing and that there are a lot of people in this world who are sidekicks but I will always be wonder woman.
2. A project that had gotten pulled to another office for political reasons was tanking, I was called in last minute to fly to San Francisco to somehow help them not totally tank. In the 72 hours that I was there they managed to steal my ideas and present them to the client as their own, although that SUCKED it did gain me respect and recognition with people that mattered which facilitated my promotion 6 months later.
3. Comments with my love/hate relationship co-worker that kept long nights somewhat sane with his humour
- There’s no place like home
- Web kit in a box
- Say my name
- Kick me in the Jimmy

One of the best things from losing my job aside from the fact that I no longer have to work, well at least until I find another job, is the fact that the whole office is closing which means that there is TONS of stuff that the company does not want. Oh my little pat-rack heart soars at the thought of adding more stuff to the considerable mountain of stuff I already own. Thank god for my husband who put a whole kibosh on bringing home too much.

We did however get a gift from our CEO who visited today and let each of us know that he would turn the other way if we decided we would like to keep our workstations. I was thrilled with this because my workstation consisted of a G5, two PCs each with two monitors and a laptop. All in all it was a treasure trove of wonderful goodness. I will keep a few of the things (especially my new G5) but the rest I will gift away to friends and family. Don’t you wish your friend was hot like me.



After my co-workers and I lugged our slightly illegal contraband we headed off across the street for our farewell send-off to the company along with every other worker that was interested in the booze and the networking. I was meeting at the bar to say goodbye to the company. I was really not in the mood to go. I was emotionally drained from the day and I really was not interested in playing nice with everyone who had work. However I dragged myself figuring the hour of kissing butt would probably do me good in the long run looking for a new job. I ended up staying for two and a half hours and then tired I left to spend some time with my husband as tomorrow I will be off to San Francisco for the weekend.

Confessions of a Shop-a-holic

Shoes I am obsessing over right now but sadly, OH SO SADLY cannot purchase because my lack of a job. So I will post these, in hopes that someone out there will give these sweet beautiful shoes a home, and then I can live vicariously through that purchase.

PEDRO GARCIA


Hey Lady, Luck In love Tiffany’s shoes


ALDO - Frigian


ALDO - Froseba

Sushi And Men

Sitting at a great sushi restaurant after my workout with my two single girlfriends the talk generally always turns back to men, how are they if you have them in my case, or how to get one if you don’t have one, like in both of their cases. Lately I have been barraged by my wonderful single girlfriends to set them up on a date or to give them the secrets that they seem to think I have. They want to know how in a city as big and cynical as Los Angeles do they go about finding and marring the man of their dreams. Their questions have left me thinking about how I know a ton of AMAZING, intelligent, beautiful single woman and very few single men. Which in turn led me to look at some statistics AND that was a very depressing hour of research.
The fact is that most women get married in their mid 20’s, for those of us that have not found a man by then the odds of finding a man who is interested in marriage go down exponentially each year. My advice to them was advice that I followed, however correct or weather or not it works who knows.

1. Be confident, most people don’t think that they are amazing, that they are beautiful, that they are happy with how things are in their life but if you can look at the good things, if you can hold yourself high, if you can smile after a hard day then more people will want to be with you. The more people that will want to be with you and around you because you own who you are the more chance you will have at getting dates and finding the man of your dreams. I have more beautiful friends, I am not a supermodel, but I truly believed I got more dates because I was confident, I was happy, I was not looking for a white night to save me, I was independent, I was looking for someone to compliment my life not take care of me. I think that those vibes really helped me when it came to attracting men.

2. Have “hand” as I call it. “Hand” is making sure you have your priorities straight. It’s knowing how much you are “worth” and not for you to not make sacrifices with what you deserve. Don’t play games, keep lines drawn that cannot be crossed, and don’t be a glutton for punishment. I constantly saw friends with people that were stuck in bad cycles, cycles that they were unwittingly contributing to. When you draw a line in the sand and that line continuously is crossed and you continuously keep taking them back. That is a bad pattern that you have to break, send that man back out on the world and spend time looking for the next one that will treat you the way you should be treated.

3. The last point is that I always thought relationships were supposed to be hard, because all my relationships were, of course all those relationships never worked out. When I started dating Colin I was surprised at how easy it was, how we just seemed to fit, and then I realized that with the RIGHT person it could be very easy to be two wholes working together instead of two wholes trying to become to halves another whole. I now think that many relationships in our lives CAN work but that each takes a different amount of effort. Like two magnets trying to be pushed together that have opposite goals is very difficult, but with a lot of concentration and strength they can be FORCED to cohabitate next to each other. My theory is that if you are with someone where things are forced to stay together, that forcing takes a tremendous amount of effort, and that level of effort may be to much to maintain over a long time and I would say impossible to hold if shit is thrown your way, which life often likes to chuck at you.

So there it is in a nutshell, my thoughts and philosophies about dating and finding a mate. I cannot imagine being single, dating, trying to MEET someone. The anxt I had back then, the heartache when a potential partner and I would split seems like a lifetime away. They say the grass is greener on the other side, and although there are things that I will hopefully never experience again, a real crush, the first date, the first kiss, the first I love you, I have someone I get to come home to every day, the best person I have ever met, a man I will have kids with and grow old with, the man that still gives me butterflies in my stomach when he smiles. Mr. Rogue, I love you!

Our Unique Imbalance

Occasionally you hear something so profound that it makes you pause and think and then cock your head so the thought can plant itself and become annoying until you figure it out, at least that is what happens to me. Damn my dysfunctional brain may it come back reincarnated as a dog that chases its tail all day.

Anyway this profound thing has to do with intelligence vs. skill vs. creativity vs. common sense and the imbalance each of us have with these, the fact that that imbalance shapes what we can do in life well and what leaves us desperately calling a plumber in the middle of the night, and the reliance we all have on each others unique talents to get us through one day to the next. I cannot change a tire, I cannot make the electricity in my house work, I cannot take out an appendix, but I can design, program, and advertise the crap out of a Microsoft website. Everything I did today I paused and stated in my silent, lets not let everyone know you talk to yourself kind of way, if I was stranded on an island in the middle of no where OR teleported 100 years into the past could I replicate this somehow. My answer sadly was generally no.

The only slight yes’s were from:
Jello, boiled hooves and squashed berries
Glue, Boiled hooves
Jelly, squashed berries

Everything else came out as a negative. With any luck I can find hooves and berries where I am going. Hopefully I won’t be joining in a fate not unlike LOST. And I hope I don’t find and accidentally teleport myself with a time machine.

This question also made me think about how much I label people in society even though I disdain labelling and would never allow something as politically incorrect as labels be uttered. But sometimes despite my best efforts I see it as an "Us" (people like myself) vs. "Them" (people who are not like me). There are things that I cannot do, things that I do not want to do, or things that I do not know how to do that I will always hire other people for, people that I rely on to do the job right, people that keep balance in our day to day lives. And for gods sake that dry cleaning better be done correctly this time.

Luck plays a big part in life to. Obviously luck played a huge part with a man who’s IQ is equal to his shoe size and he successfully is our President of the United States. I don’t think intelligence, skill, creativity or common sense played a part in that debacle.

Just Stop All That Noise

I am a functioning neurotic OCD type of person. One of the things that annoys me beyond ALL THAT IS KNOWN TO ANNOY IN THE WORLD are certain sounds, combinations of sounds, or any sounds when it is quiet time. My auditory sensitivity is particularly acute in some situations, like when I am trying to work. I hate coworkers for breathing, for munching on chips and eating loudly at their desk, for typing, for clicking the mouse, for moving around and disrupting the air. Earphones have been the saviour of my job otherwise I would have Columbine’d everyone’s ass long long ago. I also have a really hard time with noises when I am trying to sleep. The only thing that helps is a loud fan to act as a white noise but even then non approved sounds permeate.

The animals are also a source of constant distress. When Rogue repetitively chews his rawhide bone, the gnawing, the slurping, the ripping is like 90 year old 6 inch nails on a chalkboard. The cats and their constant and repetitive licking make me sometimes leave the room. In my most deeply ashamed moment I once caught myself yelling at the dog for drinking, a state that I knew he had no control over, the dog has to drink but the sound was literally making me spastically twitch on the floor. He looked at me with those sad eyes like oh crazy lady now what are you screaming at. And then I showered him with a million cookies and spent the rest of the day petting him and telling him how beautiful he was.

Mr. Rogue is the other source of my auditory distress and there are a multitude of activities that he is only allowed to do when I am not home. There is shredding the paper, anything and everything that has to do with power drills, the blow dryer and constant crinkling bags. He is the most wonderful husband for keeping this list in his head and planning these activities around my schedule.The biggest problem with my auditory sensitivity is children. I have always wanted kids and a large family but I am so acutely sensitive that I don’t know if this is going to make me a horrible mother. I want to kiss every baby that I see, I want to stroke their porcelain checks and coo into their wonderful smiling faces. That is until they start to scream and throw things and become the spawn of the devil, then I want to lop off their little heads just to make the noise stop. That is what I am worried about the most, this need to silence the noise by any means necessary. Of course I can always tell the lie that every new set of parents needs to tell themselves in order to procreate. ‘My kids will be different’, they will be quiet, they will sleep through the night, and they will listen to mommy.

The Best Behaved Dog

When you go to the dog park you meet a lot of dogs and a lot of their owners. After you purchase a home and go to the same park every week like I did certain dogs start making an impression on you. I know their names and what they will do when they inevitably get within a 5 foot radius of my dog. I remember if they are the butt sniffer, or the uncontrollable humper, or the winey little mama’s boy. What I cannot remember however is the owners anything, particularly the name. This is how it is at the dog park, my park which is located below the electric power lines, a park located here because they cannot build houses under power lines. Sadly these are the only spaces left non concreted in Los Angeles and therefore the only places that the city can justify putting these dog parks.

At the dog park the dogs rule the roost, precious darlings that they are and the owners fade into the background. There are ALWAYS specific owners or specific dogs or both that you need to keep an eye on. After years of patronizing such establishments I have learned to categorize the most common types. There is always the one owner with the super aggressive bully dog, the person that has no control over said bully, the owner that could not be an alpha member of the pack no matter how hard they tried because they are lacking the two B’s; balls and a backbone. There is the LA business man who is generally on their cell phone in the corner screaming at some poor associate or assistant completely ignoring the fact that the large dog he brought is jumping all over everyone with his gigantic muddy paws, barking excessively at anything and everything that moves including the leaves in the trees, and excessively licking all the lotion off my leg, which by the time I get him to stop, I am left with a red rash that feels like elves took sandpaper to my calf. Then there is the person who just got her dog and does not know to control it, who constantly shouts out commands for her dog Rudy to come, no I said come, come Rudy, sit, stay, NO, NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO and the dog having learned the art of ignorance just keeps going on his merry way. There is also the person who brought the baby puppy, all sweet and innocent and adorable in the soft sweet puppy kind of way. Unfortunately for the puppy who does not know better the owner is so excited to jump right into joining us other super cool dog owners that they bring their precious baby to romper room with all the big kids, not the best idea when the poor baby gets trampled and the person gets upset because their baby precious is now all dirty and crying from being trampled on. Then there is always the HUGE dog that is completely aggressive and mounts every other dog, male or female, in the park causing mad chaos because the tiny man who brought him could not bring himself to neuter his dog because someone in the house should have a large set of equipment. Then there is the nomad, the person who genuinely loves his dog, who brings him to the park and sits at an out of the way bench away from all the people because he is clearly antisocial, and the dog taking his cue from his owner sits quietly by his owner waiting for him to move because the dog is also an antisocial beast. And then lastly there are the people that go to the park for playtime with their generally well disciplined dogs and to spend time talking to all the other dog owners while mindfully keeping an eye on their four legged friends. We all crow and compliment and judge everyone’s dogs and their accomplishments, dog gossiping is something we cherish, like proud parents we watch over our little sweethearts and try to keep the other misbehaving dogs in somewhat of an order.

Just in case you are wondering me and my dog fall in the last category and Rogue is the BEST dog in the park, paws down the very best.

Torrey Pines State Reserve

Today we went on a 2hr road trip down the coast to visit Torrey Pines Sate reserve. A park that houses the only Torrey Pines found in the entire world and it is so exciting that we are able to visit this rare plant. Mr. Rogue and I were accompanied by my cousin, Mrs. Sweetie, who has recently relocated to the sunny Los Angeles coast, along with her boyfriend. We are not only visiting the park but we are also here to meet my traveling parents who are camping in their RV in the area. Originally we were meeting to go on a hike through the park but plans had to be changed to a leisurely day by the beach due to Mrs. Sweeties healing broken foot. Oh the pain I have to lay on the beach all day. Sometimes I have such a rough life.

TORREY PINES STATE RESERVE HILL

Although I am a master planner, a planner that loves to choose, invite and organize fun trips and activities, a planner in which Martha Stewart would have been proud to employ I still tend to get a little grey occasionally on some of the more minute details. I am only human after all. On this particular trip I forgot to pinpoint the EXACT location we are supposed to meet. Yes we decided to meet at the Park but I failed to choose which point in the 2000 acres of land we could bump into each other. Unfortunately this oversight caused us to drive around for an extra half hour looking for them which in turn caused tension between me and my wonderful husband. I hate tension when we are both pissed because it becomes the blind leading the blind. I really appreciate those couples who when one person yin’s the other yang’s.

The saddest part for me is that tension in the past three years has caused an unwanted side effect, a side effect that I have traced through research to stress. My right eye starts to twitch, twitch like I have a tick, twitch in a most unbecoming psychotic kind of ‘OH MY GOD GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY THIS CHICKS EYE IS TWITCHING AND SHE IS GONNA BLOW’. I am waiting for phase 2 of the eye twitch, yet to come, where I start laughing hysterically or start uncontrollably drooling. Damn getting old, damn stress, damn the fact that I should have eaten that piece of chocolate cake like I wanted to this morning. YUMMM CAKE. Maybe with warm gooey chocolate in my belly I would not be so stressed. If these are the only times in where Mr. Rogue and I have dissension, these minor battles of crabby vs. crabbier, then I will be a very happy woman. Hummm, I wonder if I can convince my husband to carry chocolates in his pocket. Maybe that will help.

After finally finding the parents and settling on the beach we became lifeless lumps stretched out with limbs askew like flies hit by a gigantic swatter, listening to the waves, feeling the sun on our skin, sinking into the soft sand with our toes wiggling in delight. Most of the time I was hovering in between consciousness and unconsciousness snuggled into the side of my husband, curled into the nook like a little happy kitten.

We had a picnic of sandwiches and chips and then played a round of bocci ball. It is a fun game similar in the theroy to playing marbles. Whenever I play with my parents I am reminded of my childhood, of my grandmothers house up north, and of all the times she KICKED MY ASS. You would think maybe ONCE I could have beaten her but that is never the case. I am resigned to just being second best, with bocci ball at least. After getting beat we returned to our indented grooves in the sand to rest, having the day off is TOUGH work and I needed another nap.

My mother and I later pried ourselves from our inverted positions to take a walk down the beach, as I gazed longingly back over my shoulder at the comfy indent of my prostrated body in my husbands nook, I had to concentrate on putting one step in front of the other. I had to walk away because I really wanted to play with my new toy. Today I borrowed my brother in laws Cannon D40 which I am seriously considering purchasing as my next camera. Purchasing once I get a new job and the income starts flowing back into the bank account. The camera exceeded most of my expectations. The only thing I really have to complain about is the weight, which I am sure was no less than what my last SUV weighted I figured that on the good side at least it was a good way to get my arms in shape. So I am officially in love with this camera and I will be taking it home, covering it in pink and frills, and making a place for it in our growing non-human family.

Here are the shots from the trip that I liked the best.

MOM ON THE BEACH

SEAWEED

SEAWEED DETAIL

CRAB

BIRDS EATING BY HAND

THE SETTING SUN

I was sad to leave the beach but I am consoled in the fact that we will defiantly be returning to try the hiking trails because I hear they are amazing.

The Jobs That Have Got Me Here

My first job was of course babysitting. I was 14 living at home in Michigan and would watch kids in my spare time after school and on weekends. I would NEVER leave my kids with a 14 year old, I had no idea what I was doing, I ended up getting let go from most of the jobs I worked because I could not tolerate the spoiled brats and their spoiled brat ways. When a two year old has the run of the house nothing good can come of that. The last straw was when this princess of torture stared me right in the eye when her mothers back was turned and dumped her bowl of cheerio’s on the floor, she giggled and then said “you there, you pick all those up now!” I had a VERY hard time resisting the urge to make her pick them all up with her little baby teeth. I knew I was not cut out for this kind of job.

My second job was at Kmart, I was still living at home in Michigan but I was now 16 official working age and I could leave babysitting behind me FOREVER. Now I moved into the realm of on your feet all day mindlessly scanning in items people were trying to buy. It was not a fun job but the benefits of the beautiful crush I had were great. Greg was a stock boy he was a year older than me and I could spend all day watching his dimpled smile. He was the reason I stayed so long and he was the reason that I cannot see a green ford without thinking about dimples.

My third job was working at Shoney’s as a waitress and glorious be I found a way to make a lot of money that and that I was good at it. The multitasking, she schmoozing, the sucking up, god I had all this down pat and I could get paid for it. Hallelujah I am a natural. Although my naturalness was a shining beacon there were drawbacks. I remember my most mortifying day when I was serving a 12 person table full of the Amish drinks and I dropped the entire tray splashing EVERYONE with water, tea, coffee, and cola. That was not one of my most shining moments.

Moving up in the world I quit Shoney’s and got a job across the street at the more upper class establishment Olive Garden. I made so much money here and it was super convenient because I could transfer this job to wherever I decided to go when I went away to college. I learned so much at this job including all about alcohol and how to say Merlot.

After graduating high school I had decided to go to the Art Institute in Pittsburgh and had a hard time convincing my parents that this was a great idea. We sat down and devised a strategy that I would spend the summer working my ass off saving every penny and that in the fall I would continue working and go to the community college to gather as many gen ed classes as I could before I left to join the winter quarter. I choose to get a landscaping job because I could be outside, there were long hours, and it paid well. I almost quit my first day when my coworkers convinced me to drink soda all day instead of lemon water that they were drinking. But I managed to stay primarily because my father made a bet that I would quit within a week, I really hate when someone tells me that I can’t do something, I am really stubborn that way. I worked from 7am – 4pm and then went straight to my waitressing job for the 6pm-11pm shift. That summer was the worst of my life but I did manage to save a few thousand dollars, get in the best shape ever, and reassure my parents that this girl was determined to go to Pittsburgh.

I moved to Pittsburgh in January and transferred to the Olive Garden in Greentree PA. There was more drama at this place then an entire season of 90210, I would come home every day not because the job was taxing but because the rumor mill kept everyone in such a high state of anxiety. I ended up dating two men there, finding two sets of roommates there, created a war between one half of the wait staff and the other, and get transferred to another restaurant to end the war. It was all a huge ugly mess.

For a little extra money I took on the job from hell. I became a telemarketer selling magazines. I have never met more rude people in my life who would give me the worst attitude. I became so anxious that I would just chant in my head every call the operating system made that the person on the other line would just hang up on me. The most interesting calls I got were: one woman was pissed because she was having sex, UH don’t answer the phone then you idiot, one person wanted my number so she could call me at home while I was having dinner, as if there is anything in my fridge right now to eat, I am in college we eat on the run. It was such a horrible job in which I cried in the bathroom almost every day during my 5 minute break. One day I was lying in bed watching the clock knowing that I had to leave to get to work and then I rolled over and went back to sleep. Not showing up is a pretty good indication that you fucking can’t take it anymore and you quit.

Transferring to the Olive Garden in Bethal Park PA because the evil war was a great decision, it was in a better neighbourhood with better clientele which meant more tips for me. I dated a few men here, the Italian man who was ok but I did fall in love with his amazing family, to bad I could not just date the family. Then there was the Australian singer, sigh he was dumb as a brick but had a voice like butter. I ended up getting fired from this job because they would not let me have Christmas off, I was going home to Michigan to visit my family, sorry Olive Garden no one gets between me and my family.

I worked at Red Lobster in Bethal Park PA right across the street from the Olive Garden I quit. This was the restaurant that I got to wear the tacky fish shirt and go home smelling like lobster every night, not exactly my favourite scent. At least the neighbourhood cats liked it. I worked here with what would be 9 years later my future husband, he was a cook and I was a waitress, I never spoke to him. He remembers me but I don’t remember him. I worked here for a little under two years and quit because again they would not give me time off for Christmas.

I needed a job and my roommate was a Flight Attendant at the Pittsburgh airport, I applied and got the job. The training was brutal, it was a 4 week unpaid course on all kinds of emergency skills, planes, airport codes, it was the most interesting four weeks of my life. Being a flight attendant let me see a lot of the US from the air, I was a bit shocked at the promiscuousness of the flight crew some of whom were married. The most embarrassing moment on the plane was when the pilots called for a specific flight attendant to bring them coffee, the flight attendant they requested was busy so I took in their coffee, they were both naked in their seats waiting for the flight attendant to SERVICE their needs, I don’t think I ever ran from a room faster in my entire life. We were all embarrassed; I think they will think twice about stripping down again.

While I was a stewardess on one of my off weekends I met and fell in love with Mr. Sun. He was an amazing gifted artist who I worked with and ended up sleeping with. I quit being a flight attendant when I was given the opportunity to go to New York and work with Jack Welsh at GE Capital with Mr. Sun and his team. I learned a lot working with him over the next year but when the relationship ended so did my employment, the moral of this story DO NOT SLEEP WITH THE BOSS.

Mr. Sun gave me skills, confidence and the contacts to start my own company. I was successful for a year an a half, a year and a half of making my own schedule having a hard time balancing my free time with things I had to get done for clients and working on my nocturnal habits. And then everything came to a screeching halt when the first plane hit the tower. September 11th had hit and advertising in Pittsburgh came to a screeching halt. As my bank account got lower and lower I decided it was time to give up my company and continue with some other goals. I enrolled back in school to get my Bachelors Degree.

I was sick of waiting on people in the restaurant and in the air so I decided to try something new, I became a delivery driver for Pizza Outlet. This was the BEST JOB EVER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. Not only did I drive around and listen to music all day, I did not have some sleazy boss hanging over my shoulder telling me what to do all the time, I could pick up my friends and they could ride with me for a few hours gossiping, or I could spend all my time on the phone only stopping to drop off a pie or pick up a new one. I worked here for a little more than two years. I ended up getting fired because of my family again. This time I had to pick up my Uncle because he got stuck in Philly. He had been working as a trucker and got frustrated he had quit. I really don’t think he was thinking clearly, there he was with little money; all his stuff, and no where close to Michigan. I drove and picked him up and then brought him back to Michigan, I was gone all weekend and when I got back I found out I was fired for calling off.

Since I was almost done with school I just picked up some odds and ends jobs at the Art Institute to tide me over financially until I got my degree and to pay for the next phase in the plan to get away from Pittsburgh and get a job.

I had decided to move to LA and for the first two months here I was staying at a friends place free of charge and I reasoned that because of the stress of the past few years I deserved some time off. I worked out, I saw the free sites, I got a great tan, I played on the beach everyday and I LIVED on credit. Once all the cards were maxed out I got a job around the corner at the Cheesecake Factory. While working there nights I looked for a real job during the day. I found one at Ad2 and attempted for a while to keep both jobs, working at the web job during the week and the waitressing job during the weekends. Needless to say that lasted a month and one sunny day I woke up to get ready for my shift at the restaurant and looked at my boyfriend at the time, now my husband, still cozy in bed, I realized that Tylenol just was not going to do anything for my raging hangover so I climbed back in. Basically I said bye-bye to getting out of credit card debt.

Working at Ad2 was ok about 1 day out of the month I actually enjoyed going to work. Those were the days that either they had nothing for me to do and I could surf the web all day long OR they were the days that I could spend doing a design for a new website of a new CD. The rest of the time I was tearing apart good design and bastardizing it into something that I was never proud of because the client thought he knew better than the experts. I left for more money and more opportunity.

From there I got a job at iMedia, a start-up company that was willing to give me a substantial raise for doing less work. Here I encountered the most unprofessional working environment in the ENTIRE WORLD and I will forever regret my 6 months working at that horrible company. My job here ended with the PSYCHOTIC CEO screaming at me in front of the whole office and me fleeing in horror at the 6 headed fire breathing monster who was not making any sense. I never stepped foot back in that building.

I was very particular about choosing my next job and when I found MRM Worldwide I knew I had found a home. Getting the job was not easy, I could tell midway through the interview that I desperately wanted the job and that the boss was only mildly interested in me. I got the job because I am cocky I told them I could do anything, that I would prove I could do whatever they needed and that he would be crazy not to give me the chance to prove that I was the best person for the position. He gave me that chance and I have spent the last three years here. Now the office is closing and I am going to be out of work looking for something new. Maybe I will just take my severance and my unemployment and milk it for a while.