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The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

All I want is a balcony with a bay view and newly renovated modern kitchen for less than $360 a month...

And the house hunt continues....

We saw a place today. It was literally a block and a half away from Mckay's! I was ready to sign the lease right then. Too bad for the landlord that we didn't - walking inside changed everything. The house was lovely, the yard was nice, even the little porch area was charming. But two of the bedrooms were so ridiculously small that it was doomed from the first moment we peaked inside.

After the tour we headed to the pub, ordered a pint and sat down to discuss. Not a one of us was the "bigger man". We all have full sized beds! It just wouldn't work! We argued back and forth about our options. I might have yelled at one of the guys a little (but not meanly. I think. I was supposed to be getting his adrenaline going?) In the end Dave brought us a free pizza (have I mentioned how much I LOVE MCKAYS??? And Dave. Love Dave) and he put in his own opinion. Aside from independently trying to get said future roommate's adrenaline pumping over the same issue I was fighting for, he also mentioned how he wants to buy the house next door to his bar. And if he did, he'd rent it to us. Now I know this isn't a future I should be banking on, let alone even daydreaming about, but it's nice to know our bartender is rooting for us.

We're going to find a home. And when we do, it will be PERFECT.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Disappointed...

No satisfactory Google results for "hobbit foot fetish", though plenty of options is you're just looking for 2 out of 3.

Other phrase written during last night's cold medicine induced delirium: naked baby thrower. A thrower of naked babies? Or a naked person throwing babies? Where did this thought even come from?

Thursday, April 22, 2010

(Drunk Blogging, Hooray!)

Being a local regular at Mckay's hinges on the idea that I don't FUCK UP MY FEET WHILE WALKING. Tonight, after 3 delicious beers and fantastic live music, plus free pizza (because we're regulars and Dave loves us!), I rolled my weak ankle on the sidewalk. Let me repeat: I ROLLED MY ANKLE ON FLAT GROUND. Need I remind you how many times I've done this before? There was the time in high school while I was running upstairs. There was the time when I was (again, ON THE SIDEWALK) going to see a movie downtown. There was the time I actually sprained it at a MGMT show. And then tonight! Barely days after my OTHER foot has been gracious enough to let me walk on it! How am I supposed to run, let alone function as a normally mobile person, when my feet/ankles refuse to cooperate and instead give out and break themselves at the least sign of stress?

Moral of this story: I like ice packs.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Fuck Whales - I Spot BEARS Motherfucker!

Got back behind the wheel of a coach today!!

I'M ON A COACH


I thought we'd start with something simple. Doughnuts around the parking lot, things like that. Nope! Instead, my trainer had me hit the road, and within 4 blocks said, "Okay, now turn right here."

Me: But that's the freeway entrance!
Trainer: Yup! Crash-course driving, let's go!

Luckily the only thing I hit was a gentle nudge against the curb as I pulled over on the street in Ferndale.

Days since last Stop sign: 307 and going strong!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Graceful, Like a Swan

taking my job seriously since 2004

Today I went full-weight, foot-first into the pool. The backboard I was carrying at the time followed me in and nearly crushed the heads of my coworkers. Fortunately the only thing hurt was my pride! (And the level of trust the public now holds for the pool's lifeguards...)

Monday, April 19, 2010

Why maybe winter should last all year

A person can learn a lot about theirself based on their reaction to a dangerous situation. Some people get so filled with adrenaline they can lift cars. Some people pass out. Some people keep calm and control the situation. Some people stand in the background because they caused the whole thing to happen in the first place.

Me? I stand in the corner of my room and watch the wasp flying around, debating fleeing out the door but holding off because then when I come back, I won't know if it left. I eyeball the magazine on the other side of the room, the giant killer wasp buzzing between us and threatening to end my life. I also say in a very low, progressively panic-filled voice, "No no no, get out, go back outside, don't do that, go away, no, NO!, get out get out get out, go away, no, don't do that..."

(actor reenactment)

After about a whole Camera Obscura song of this (seriously, fearing for your life is surreal when someone is singing about how she's ready to be heartbroken) I very calmly grab a book and usher/wipe the wasp back out the window. Followed by heartfelt reflecting on how nice it is someone invented screens, and wouldn't life be better if every window had one.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

TRAGEDY

Did you now the El Salvadorean taco truck isn't open on Sundays??

I probably did, but I'd definitely forgotten.

So at work today, my coworker and I are bantering back and forth about the taco truck. Taco truck taco truck taco truck. "If I fix the stapler, will you make a run to the taco truck?" "Sure, but good luck on that!" "WHA-BAM, stapler fixed! Get gone I need a burrrrrito!"

But instead of a hit spicy tortilla-wrapped treat, I found myself staring at the empty spot next to the cigarette store. My world crashed and fell and shattered apart at my feet. My stomach flipped and my hangover returned full-force now that there was no hope in my life. I dragged my feet and cried as I headed back to work.

Moral of this story: Plan ahead. Don't build all your hopes and dreams off an idea. The failure can be unbearable.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Read this book!

I'm a sucker for a good cry, especially when it comes from a book.

When I was little it was the animal books. Where the Red Fern Grows, Watership Down, The Plague Dogs.

When I was in my early teens it was Bastard Out of Carolina, White Oleander, The Poisonwood Bible. I don't have a name for these books. Literature Lite? They were smart and poignant and yet... No one would consider them ground-breaking works. They made me nostalgic and sad before I had any reason to feel that way.

These days I've been devouring more light-hearted fare. Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum books. Travel literature. Harry Potter.

But in the last 48 hours I started The Book Thief, and I'm on the verge of finishing it. It was marketed as a Young Adult book - what idiot made that decision? Yes, children could and should read it. But so should everyone else!

But back to the crying thing. A few sentences and suddenly I have to put it down and frantically search for kleenex. I'm not ready for what's coming, and I know it. It's an oncoming wave and in these last moments I have before it swamps over me, I'm struggling to take a big enough breath. Hoping I can dive deep enough not to be dragged along.

****

Excerpt:

When another piece of broken wall was removed, one of them saw the book thief's hair.
The man had such a nice laugh. He was delivering a newborn child. "I can't believe it - she's alive!"