Road Trip Diary 1

Here's the missing road trip video diary... It finally uploaded.  As you can see, the Blazer is awesome and I'm very skilled at driving and filming at the same time.  Enjoy the shaky cam!

I Love the Canyon

I forgot how much I need people to sit across from me and ask me about my life.  And I forgot how encouraging it is to hear about their lives.  Amidst so much change, this place and this work is constant.  How I love it here.

One more place that my heart longs for...

Song of the Day: Stay by Lisa Loeb

Back in the Canyon

The official "road" portion of my road trip has begun.  I spent the day yesterday driving down from Seattle to the Canyon, with a couple of stops along the way.  I took the Blaze to Jiffy Lube before I left and even let them do a couple of the extra things.  (Mainly because the guy seemed to be about to pass out due to the condition of my radiator... I don't know why.)

All this to say, the Blaze is running smooothly.  I don't think she's run this well in a long time actually.  So I feel good about the trip.  And I made it on basically one tank of gas!  This bodes well.

Driving into the Canyon was a weird experience because it wasn't weird.  Once I was through Portland, auto pilot kicked in and I was headed to the Canyon.  I went to Morning Mudd this morning and saw a bunch of people and then spent the rest of the morning hanging out in the store with Angela and Amanda, the new Sara.  It was fun to be back in our little retail building, tagging and counting things.  You really can't beat the Canyon!

I'm looking forward to spending the next couple of days catching up with people.  More later.

Also, I have a road trip video diary started, but it won't upload for some reason.  I'll try again later.  Try not to be too sad.

Song of the Day: Sea Breeze by Tyrone Wells (This is my ultimate canyon song and was really weirdly in the CD player in the Blaze when I turned it on today.  Apparently, the last time I was in my Blazer I was jamming to it.  That seems completely possible since I listened to it over and over the last 4 months I was here.)

My Beautiful Northwest

I am so relaxed I feel like I could sit and stare at the wall for about 6 hours and be content.

I don't know what it is about being on vacation that makes me instantly relax.  I think it's chemical.  Something in my brain says "you're on vacation" and triggers relaxation in the rest of my body.  I sleep in.  I take an hour to get ready.  I don't care about anything that is looming in the future.

I can't manage to get more than a couple things done in a day.  It's just really impossible.  But I have gotten my car started and tomorrow morning I'm going to leave Puyallup.  I'm headed to the Canyon, which I am very excited about.

My time in Puyallup has been awesome.  I think a part of my heart will always be tied to the Northwest.  It's beautiful and relaxing and fun.  I'm sitting in this awesome local coffee shop with Sara right now.  The coffee is better than anything I've had in months.  It's loud and crowded.  The workers are friendly and energetic.  There's a fireplace and leather couches.  They really do coffee right here.

The people in the Northwest are laid-back and nice, although there is a distinct difference from the Midwest.  I always have to remind myself of that fact when I'm out here.

The difference is evidenced best in the interaction I had with the AAA tow-truck driver who came to jump my Blazer.  

I, of course, was chatting with the man as he worked on my car.  The first thing he asked me was if the Blazer was an "East Coast car."  I didn't really know what that meant, but I answered that I was from Missouri, assuming correctly that he would consider that the East Coast.

He told me that his grandparents live in KC, so we chatted about that for a minute.  I was singing Missouri's praises and he was mainly agreeing, but then he made this statement:

"Yeah, Missouri's pretty nice.  The locals won't ever shut up, but other than that..."

That's the difference.  People here are loyal.  Once they're your friend, they are your friend.  There's not a lot of pretense, there's not a lot of pressure.  They're just great, laid-back, real friends.  But they won't talk to you the first 9ish times you meet them.

When you meet someone in the Midwest, they want to know everything there is to know about you.  They want your complete history and they want you to come over to dinner the next night.  I don't know what it is, but they are interested.  If you're the new person at a dinner party, prepare to be in the spotlight.  Not so here.  You're going to get ignored a little.

I think it's just a "we don't fake it" thing.  People here just don't get too worked up about you one way or the other.  But once you've cemented a friendship, it's there.  I kind of like it, although I always feel a little insecure that no one's jumping up and down with excitement about getting to know me.  

I love it here and I love it in Missouri and I love it in New York.  How is it possible to want so many different things at once?  I'm not sure I'll ever figure that out.

I have sent in a couple resumes while I've been here and Sara and I have decide we're going to open our own coffee shop in the next 5-10 years, so life plan is in gear!  

My time on the road starts tomorrow.  Looking forward to jamming in the car for hours on end!

Song of the Day: You are the Best Thing by Ray Lamontagne

Back to the Northwest

In Puyallup.

With Dusty and Sara.

Watching the DVD extras on Step-Brothers.

On the most comfy couches in the world.

It doesn't get any better.

Song of the day: Take a Chance on Me, Mamma Mia Soundtrack

The Road is Calling Me

Ever since I got my  license in February of 2001, I have been desperately wanting to take a solitary cross-country road trip, Jack Kerouac style. I wanted to spend months aimlessly driving across the country, stopping wherever I wanted, eating in local diners, seeing how life is lived across the country.

In a couple of hours, I leave to fly out of New York.  One more experience under my belt, one more chapter closed.

I'm headed to Seattle where I will pick up my car and spend the next couple of weeks seeing as many people as I can and as much of the western half of the country as I can.

It's not exactly the trip of my dreams.  I wish I had more time, more funds, etc.  

But it's fun to see how you end up getting to do the things you want to do if you're open to the things that lead up to them.  I like how life works.

I just got off the phone with Sara and am ridiculously excited to see her and Dusty's faces when I get off the plane.  I didn't realize how much I missed them until I was headed to see them.  I'm pretty sure that's going to happen a lot in the next couple of weeks.

All this to say, I may not be able to blog the obsessive amount that I've been doing the past few weeks.  But fear not, I'll keep you updated on the trip and, more importantly, what sweet jams I'm rocking out to in the Blaze.

Speaking of, everyone keep your fingers cross that the Blazer makes it back to MO.  

Peace out, NYC.

Song of the Day: No Ordinary Love by Toby Mac (the ultimate Sassy Jam- 3rd Session)

Color Me Impressed

Today I discovered the joy of a very unique and useful set of people... Professional movers.

In the past 5 years I have moved 7 times.  In all fairness, I was in college during most of that time so moves consisted of loading stuff into my car and dropping it off at whatever older/cheaper duplex (or parents' house) that I was moving into.  

Even so, moving was always tedious (and I always enjoyed procrastinating by blogging).  I would manage to collect an insane amount of stuff in as little as a year and would spend several nights weeding through it all, making several Goodwill runs, throwing away what they didn't want, and packing the rest of it into Tastefully Simple boxes that I stole from the pile in my mom's basement.

I would then move what would fit into my Blazer and transport it wherever it was going next.  This was followed by calling everyone I know who had a truck and begging them to help me move my furniture.  (Thanks, Phil!)  

After I had convinced someone it would be awesome to move furniture with me, we would load it up and I would spend the entire ride to the new place certain my stuff was going to go flying out the back.  I remember one time actually making my brother pull over on Hwy. 63 to make sure my mattress was secure.  (He did not seem so confident.)

I always made it without incident and spent the next, oh, month unpacking at the new place. (And putting my furniture back together always missing a few screws... Who knows where they went.)

So I assumed that packing up Richard and Kelley's apartment that holds 5 years worth of their stuff plus a baby and all the ridiculous amount of things that comes with one of those would be a fiasco to say the least.

But then my friends the movers showed up.

These 4 classic North Eastern men showed up this morning around 9:00.  They took a quick break for pizza and were gone by 2:00.  In that time, the packed up the entire apartment.  That's right, the entire living room, kitchen, storage, closets, everything is in boxes and ready for them to come back and move tomorrow.

On top of that, it's packed nicely and all the boxes are labeled.  It's not even my stuff and I'm excited.

They left our beds in tact and some other stuff that's still being sorted in the master bedroom, but they'll come back tomorrow morning, pack that stuff up, load up the truck and take it all away.  Kelley and Richard will see it again in about 6 weeks in Qatar.

All of this will be done in less than 9 hours work time.  That is an impressive feat.

I would write a poem about how awesome they are, but I gave up writing poetry about boys when I turned 16.  (Maybe.)

Song of the day: In Love with a Girl by Gavin DeGraw:

Has Anyone Read All 100?

It's my 100th post!  Do you feel honored reading this?  You should.

Honestly, I was totally against blogs for a long time.  If you read my first post ever, you will know that I began this endeavor with some trepidation.  I always found blogs narcissistic and kind of pompous.  (I mean, there's a little bit of arrogance in thinking someone wants to read all about your life.)

But I was moving halfway across the country and as much as I hated the idea of blogs, I hated the idea of mass update emails even more.  The mass email just seemed too obnoxious to me.  I hate it when something I don't want ends up in my email in-box and I have to go through the effort of deleting it.  Also, I always feel a little bit of guilt in just deleting email updates unopened.  They aren't technically junk mail and I usually do care about the person who sent them and what they're up to.  So they sit in my in-box, unread, for months.  And a cluttered in-box stresses me out.  

So email updates were out.  Blogging was really my only option.  That way, if anyone actually wanted to know what was going on with me, they could come to my blog and find out.  

My blog has morphed a great deal since then.  The first year basically served as a "here's what I'm doing in the canyon" blog.  Since then, my life has become much less active, but much more blog-worthy (and random).  I've moved to NYC and am now moving to Kansas City after a cross-country road trip.  

It has been surprisingly fun having the last year and a half immortalized in blog form.  There is so much I put on here that I would never journal about but that are fun moments of my life that I love remembering.  It forces me to put my thoughts and stories down on (screen) paper which I think is a great thing.

There are a few drawbacks.  I have no idea who reads this outside of those who comment, so I don't necessarily feel more connected.  Although, for those of you who do (Paige!), I do feel like you're more a part of my life because of it.  However, it's definitely one-sided and I feel like I miss out on being a part of your lives in return.

Unless, you also have a blog.  Then I read immediately after you post every time and I love it!  So, if you don't have a blog, get one.  And if you're reading this, please comment every once in a while, just so I know you're there.

I have a feeling there will definitely be another 100 posts on this blog with more to follow.  

Much love.

Song of the Day: In Your Atmosphere (Live) by John Mayer

Here I Come!

I have a plane ticket!  I'm leaving New York on Friday and flying to Seattle.

The road trip commences from there.

The mix is made, the journey begins, I am stoked.

Actual Song of the Day: Vegas by Sara Bareilles

Oh, Beautiful...

U-S-A!  U-S-A!  U-S-A!  (Everybody!)

U-S-A! U-S-A! 

I would like to identify myself as worldly but I have one characteristic that tends to negate that in the minds of others.  

I love America!

I disagree with people when they say that our country is nothing but arrogant, power-hungry and consumeristic.  I tell them that I think we are a nation that makes many mistakes but seeks to find the dignity in all human life.  

I tell them that we are a people of great spirit, who constantly defend our way of life because we believe it is right.  We are a people of service, a people of optimism.

I tell them that America is a country that gives me the right to drive, to speak, to have a job, to wear what I wish, to prosecute someone who attacks me, to have as many children as I want and care for them however I want, to sleep with anyone I want, to run for office, to be president and to live a life of dignity.  As a woman, these are not freedoms that I take for granted.

I never forget to mention that we are a country of idealism.  Some people would say this is dangerous, but I say it's vitally important.  We have to be able to see the world we envision as possible and cynicism has no place in this.

I say to them that, although we get it wrong, although our country is rarely what we all want it to be, although politics is often ugly and divisive, despite all these things, I still believe we are a nation that seeks the good of all mankind.

And I said all of these things before it was cool to!

I hope to always have the foresight to honor the men and women who decide to tackle the public arena.  Even when they make many decisions I disagree with (as the last president did and I'm sure the new president will), I hope to honor their service.  It is an important work and one that deserves some dignity. 

So back up off!  

Don't worry, I won't become a political blogger.  There's little I despise more.  But just like after I watch too many episodes of the West Wing, I am excited to be living in this place and being an active participant in the action of our government.  And our country inspires me to bloviate.  I'm pretty sure it's in the constitution.

Song of the day: Proud to be an American by Lee Greenwood (And God bless the redneck that made this video out of the stock photos that come on a pc, personal snapshots and what pops up on google images when you type "America rocks!"):

Ratting Each Other Out is Never a Good Idea (Bachelor, Ep. 3)

Oh, my goodness.  I should not be this excited about a show, but I AM!  This episode did not disappoint.  The women were a disgrace to my gender and Jason continues to end up looking cute even though completely delusional.  

This episode started with a solo date with Stephanie, the widowed single mother.  It took place on her daughter's birthday which she was missing to be on the show.

She decided to deck herself out in some kind of feathery bright pink scarf-like thing and a claw clip for her hair and headed out to meet Jason for a date on the beach.

Jason (by Jason, I mean the producers) surprised Stephanie by bringing her daughter to the date.  Jason cemented his place in the women of America's hearts (and mine) when he teared up watching the reunion between mother and daughter.

Stephanie managed to pull off what seemed like a fun date and her daughter is cute, although Paige astutely noted last week that Stephanie most likely puts her daughter in pageants which I pinpointed as the basis of my dislike for her.  

The second date of the night was the group date and Jason decided to pull out all the stops with the uber-fratty black striped shirt unbuttoned under a blazer.  He continues to lack a little on the fashion front.

He took the girls to an art studio where they made plaster casts of their breasts for "breast cancer awareness." 

OK...

This prompted a lot of talk about how Jason was a philanthropist and how attractive he is because of it.  I would agree with that if "philanthropist" means "horndog who just wanted to see how all the girls looked topless."

They put the girls behind a see-through screen that did nothing to conceal anything and Jason remained shirtless the entire time.  

Erica looked hilariously frightened the whole date.  

This date prompted some of the best quotes of the night:

"I like to stare at him... ha!" -Shannon

"I have no problem being naked for a greater cause."  -Jillian

"If everyone's going to have breast cancer and their kids can't be breastfed, then we're screwed." -Megan

"To have 10 days without anyone looking up to me or thanking God that I'm in their life was driving me crazy.  So tonight was great."  -Megan

I have nothing to say about the solo date with Natalie that came next because 1) my dinner had just come, 2) he only liked her because she was hot and 3) he clearly was not going to give her a rose.

Natalie left with the classic angry limo ride.  Way to go out with some class, Natalie.

My favorite part of the night came next.  And that is the drunken, last-ditch, mansion party.

Jason went on a mission to find out who "wasn't there for the right reasons."  That included asking several of the girls to rat out the other girls.

All of the girls politely dodged the hints, staying well clear of the fink role.  Well, all except Lauren.  Come on, Lauren, the fink never gets the ring.  

 Nikki stated she wanted Jason to see her "fun side."  I think she pulled that off with her dress (if you change "side" to "bags.")  She also went for the most awkward kiss ever until Stephanie kissed him accompanied by a speech a few minutes later.  Both had to be watched through my fingers covering my eyes.

Classic quote from the mansion party:

"It was beyond I want to be here, I like you, I know your birthday..." -Jason about Shannon

The rose ceremony was fraught with drama.  Chris asked them to reveal anything they thought Jason should know... AWESOME!!!  Man, do these producers know how to stir up some drama.

The girls first attempted to act like everyone got along, but then Megan straight called out Lauren, engaging her into a cat fight which Erica felt the need to sass into as well.  Come on, girls.  When the guy you're after looks uncomfortable/embarrassed, you are not winning him over.  Although, that look comes out a lot on this show so I can see how it could be confusing.

Shannon broke down, the roses were handed out.  Erica and the girl who didn't speak until her exit interview got cut.  Good call on Erica.  I was not liking her.

See you next week.

Sometimes Pictures Make Me Cry

I'm feeling very nostalgic today.  This always happens to me when I'm facing a transition.  It makes me remember things with great joy and miss things more than normal.

The nature of my life has begun to create a weird reality.  I have people that are very important to me spread out over the whole of the US.  I think this is typical of people my age.  You move, your friends move.  Everyone spreads out.

What's weird about it are these people aren't really connected.  It's not like I'll see them all at my high school reunion or at someone's wedding.  I'll see pieces of them.  I'll see college friends or friends from the Canyon.   Friends from home.  Young Life kids.  Family.  

They're all these separate entities, largely unaffected by one another.  Most don't necessarily even know each other.  It's a weird thing.

And I miss them all because I'm here and they're not.

And I'm not ready to put down roots.

So I'll continue to collect people to love.  I'll continue to attempt to pour into their lives even though I'm far away.  And I'll remember that relationships change and it will never be the same to be a faraway friend as it is to be an everyday part of someone's life. 

But that doesn't mean they're not important to you and you're not important to them.  We can live and love and move on.  

I like life.    

Song of the day: Just Dance by Lady Ga-Ga

Does This Count as a Job Search?

I've been thinking a lot in the last few months about what kind of job I want.  And I think I've narrowed it down a little.

But I'm going to need your help because I'm having some trouble coming up with something that fits all my requirements.

Basically, I want a job that gives me a flexible schedule.  I want to be able to work from home/a coffee shop and take as many breaks as I want to research weird stuff on the internet or stare into my mug while listening to a song.

I would like to make enough to pay off my student loans and be able to give generously and freely while still indulging my iTunes and books binges, but I don't need an exorbitant salary.

I need to be doing something I believe in, something that I'm passionate about and want to see succeed.

I'm task oriented and like having projects and deadlines.  I like organizing people and motivating others to work hard.  I like to take initiative.  I have no problems with authority but prefer to have a lot of leeway to do my work how I see fit.  But I want a boss that's always available for guidance.

I want to enjoy my coworkers and be genuine friends with them rather than spending most of my day with people I can't stand.  

I like a lot of variety and would love to travel and engage the community in whatever I'm doing.

I want to work hard and feel like I've accomplished something at the end of the day.

I am willing to put in any extra effort when necessary but I also don't want my work to dominate my life.

I want to work in a place where my ideas are welcomed and I'm given respect.  I want to feel good about what I do and feel like I'm good at it.

But mainly, I want to be able to work from a coffee shop!

OK, does anyone know of a job that fits all this?  If so, please let me know.  You would make me very happy.

Song of the day: After Tonight by Justin Nozuka

Who Else Loved the Poster Sale?

There are many things I miss about college.  Only 15 hours worth of obligations a week, late nights, the ability to watch daytime TV (oh wait, I still do that).  But one of the things I miss most was the once-a-semester poster sale.

They would set up at the beginning of every semester in Brady Commons and I bought at least one poster there every semester.  

Thinking back, the posters are kind of hilarious.  There are many categories of poster and I had at least one from almost all of them.

First was the romantic black and white prints.  I had this one of a couple kissing in Paris:

Next was the "they're funny because they're in black and white" posters.  This dumb and dumber one was one of my favorites:

Of course there were the normal movie posters.  Most people went Boondock Saints or Fight Club, but I went with my personal favorite movie Good Will Hunting:

Let us not forget the famous works of art in poster form.  I went with El Greco's View of Toledo because I visited Toledo when I was in Spain and it made me sound cool to tell people that.  On a side note, I saw this painting in the Met a couple months ago and it really is kind of breathtaking:
Let us not forget the arty hip hop posters.  I, of course, had Tupac.  This isn't the exact poster I had.  Mine had the words "Only God Can Judge Me" on it which made it infinitely more awesome.

And lastly, the cool old movie stars posters.  I went Audrey Hepburn.  I always thought she was way cooler than Marilyn Monroe.

There were also like Anne Geddes prints and motivational posters, but I never stooped that low.  

Yeah, I had the coolest dorm room out there.  You can be jealous all you want.

Song of the Day: That's What You Get by Paramore

Frigid is Not a Nice Adjective

I'm so cold I feel like I might actually die.

And, say what you want, I don't think that's an overly dramatic statement.

I am staying in a beautiful brownstone on 9th st. in Manhattan.  It sounds like a dream.  And mostly it is.  But along with the charm of an old building comes the horrid insulation (and cockroaches).

And I stay in a room at the back of the house that has a whole wall of windows and a door.

It literally feels like I'm camping.  

And I hate camping.

I enjoy the part of camping where you sit around the camp fire and roast mallows and tell stories and someone always accidentally melts their shoes.  But after that, I want to go home and sleep in my bed.  Because I inevitably wake up at dawn, freezing cold and damp with a horrible back ache.  Not worth it.

This is like camping in that I'm really cold.  It's better though because I have a bed.  

My plan is simple:  I will stay in bed under my covers where I stay perfectly warm.

Earlier I spent half an hour in the fetal position under the covers, staring at my nightstand.  I couldn't have been happier.  I was confident in my plan.

So after watching Friday Night Lights (awesome), I said good night and headed back to my room.  I immediately got under the covers and cuddled with my pajamas for a while so that they would warm up before I put them on.  (This was surprisingly effective and I congratulated myself for a while for thinking of it.)

But then I faced a conundrum.  I really wanted to blog in order to complain sufficiently about being cold, but that required me to take my hands out from under the covers.

I cursed myself for not asking for a Snuggie for Christmas, even if they do make you and your entire Snuggie-clad family look like complete tools.

I tried to type with gloves on.  I found it impossible.

I finally just sucked it up and decided the risk of a couple of digits was worth the satisfaction of a well-typed blog.  That's what you all mean to me.  You're welcome.

I just keep thinking longingly of my remote-controlled space heater in storage in the Canyon.  We'll be reunited soon.  I can't wait.

I will leave you with a picture of what I will look like for the entire weekend:

Thank you Lord for iPods, blogs and books.  The perfect way to spend the coldest night of the year.

Song of the day: Best for Last by Adele

I'll Probably Delete This One

New Kelly Clarkson!  New Kelly Clarkson!  New Kelly Clarkson!

I have many, many guilty pleasures, but Kelly is one of the tops.  I love her.  I sing her songs very loudly while dancing around my house with great abandon.

It's much like this (except normally much louder, people were asleep):

(You'll notice Elvis in the background, also getting down.)

Also, I love Beyonce.  I used to find her personally annoying but then she married Jay-Z (the coolest rapper ever) and put out her fiercest album yet.  

In short, I love the ladies that can belt it.  (You bet Christina's on that list.)  I love pop when it's done by someone who can actually sing.  And these ladies can sing.

Lastly, since nobody ever answers my questions, I'll ask you another one:  What's geekier, this video itself or the fact that I made it?  You be the judge.

Scary!

Oh, my goodness!

A plane flying out of La Guardia just went down into the Hudson River.  I'm watching the news coverage right now.

It sounds like a flock of gulls were what caused it to go down.  That's right, the plane hit some birds and went down.  A big, commercial jet was taken down by a flock of birds.

Because of the dense population all around, the pilot decided to crash land in the water.  I guess it's good to know that your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device.

The good news is, it looks like everyone got off just fine.  Officials responded quickly, stayed calm and managed to get everyone out onto boats.  

I am actually comforted by things like that.  Birds fly into jets.  Accidents happen.  It comforts me to know that everyone is trained to handle it.

Well done pilots and NYPD and FD.

Still, I don't love the sight of a plane in the water and people in the inflated yellow life vests when I know I'm flying next week.  I'm just going to keep telling myself that you're more likely to die on the way to the airport than on the flight.

This reaffirms to me that take-off is the scariest part of a flight.  Looks like there are 146 more people who are going to be riding the rails.  

Also, it's crazy to hear coverage of this kind of stuff in New York.  I don't know that 9/11 will ever be erased from the forefront of the city's psyche.  I never would assume terrorist, but that seems to be everyone's first thought here.  Crazy.

*Oh, by the way, I didn't know about this until my stepsister called me to have me look up why she was hearing so many sirens in the Meat Packing District.  I was already on my computer, but I didn't know about it because I have my computer set to only show me celebrity gossip.  I changed it because that made me feel like a bad citizen.

My Mental Health Still Concerns Me

I've blogged before about my obsessive tendencies and I've realized today that I left out one of my more consuming obsessions...

Music.

I love music.  I spend a completely inappropriate amount of money on iTunes and, when I lived in Columbia, at Streetside Records.  I can't get enough of it.  My 60 gig iPod is full. (I refuse to get a new one because I have emotional attachments to inanimate objects.)

After Christmas, I banned all but absolutely necessary spending due to the fact that I'm going to be jobless in a week.  At that point, I started a list of the albums I want on iTunes so that I can remember to buy them when I get a job.  It's not like I sat around and thought about it, I just jot down an artist when they come to mind.  It's already got about 20 albums on it.  

I would argue that all this reveals is bad money management and an appreciation for music.  But there's one action that I think puts me back in Twilight-esque danger of OCD.

Every few days, I get stuck on a song.  Sometimes it's the same song for several days in a row, sometimes it's a new one from day to day.  But essentially, I will listen to this song over and over and over all day.  I'll listen to other songs too, but I can listen to one song on repeat up to 10 times in a row.  

In the Canyon, the drive to work took approximately the time of one song (awesome commute).  For a month straight that song was Tyrone Wells' "Sea Breeze."  Literally every time I would get in the car I would restart it.

While I was at home, it was "If I Were a Boy" by Beyonce.  Before that it was "Winter Song" by Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles.  

Today, it is "I Caught Myself" by Paramore.  I love, love, love it.  It's my "I can't possibly imagine being in a relationship where I would be willing to commit" song. 

(I wasn't even going to tell you all it's on the Twilight soundtrack because I feel like I would be judged harshly for that.  But the only video I can find of it is the Twilight video.  So there you go, judge away.  But it's a legitimately good soundtrack, I swear.)

I'll keep you updated on what I'm listening to.  I'm sure you'll be sitting on pins and needles.  (Does anyone know where that saying comes from?  I just spent a while googling it with no success... I can hear you making fun of me in your heads, just so you know.)

*After rereading this post, I realize that it should not be surprising to me that I'm completely broke.  I will buy two albums on iTunes and a book at B&N in one day without blinking and then complain for an hour about having to pay my phone bill.  I should probably feel guilty about this, but it really just makes me want to rejoice in the fact that no one relies on me but me and I can spend my money however I want.  I seriously love my life right now!

The Books of Kate, Chapter 2

Firstly, I would also like to thank my friend John for taking my threats seriously and posting on his blog after quite an absence.  I didn't know I had such internet power.  I'm becoming drunk on it.  I will soon be commanding the entire internet world (so, Google).

I had a lot plans about how I was going to share about all the books I've been reading, but then I got kind of bored of that because I was mainly rereading books I have already read over the holidays.  And while I do freakishly enjoy that, it didn't really create any blog-worthy insights.  So after a grand total of one entry on the subject so far, I've decided to revisit it.

Book #2 is Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris.  Sedaris is a regular commentator on NPR (which I don't listen too, but I wish I did because it makes you sound cool) and a funny, funny man.

I rarely read anything that's supposed to be comical, but this book had me snickering out loud on the subway.  It's a collection of autobiographical essays, the first half of which are about his life growing up and the second half about life lived in Paris present-day. 

David Sedaris has an uncanny ability to completely peg people (and himself) in all their absurdities.  He devoted an entire chapter to a conversation he overheard on the metro in Paris between 2 denim and t-shirt clad Americans who thought he was a pick-pocket.  There's another chapter on his time as a drug-fueled performance artist followed by one on his foul-mouthed brother who calls himself the Rooster. 

He over-describes everything, and that's where he captures my heart.  I will inevitably love a book where the author can spend an entire chapter recounting a trip to the bathroom at a dinner party where he found someone else's feces clogging the toilet and was paranoid enough that someone would think it was his to do something about it.

In short, Sedaris has become my blog idol.  If I can convey the mundane workings of my life with half the wit and self-deprecation he does, I'll be happy. 

Another Question to Ponder...

I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm really trying not to over-post.  I know that a lot of my readership (you can laugh at me for using the word readership, I did) only checks in every once in a while so the chances that they read any more than the first one, maybe two posts is slim.

With that in mind, I always have certain posts that I really want people to read, but then I can't resist posting crap about my internet research of chickens and the song that's perma-stuck in my head.

Inevitably, the posts I actually like get pushed down to the bottom of the page and there is nobody reading them.

This is why I try not to over-post.

But this is a necessary one.  I have a question that I think about all the time and I'm just wondering if anyone else has pondered it as well:

Do other people read the same way I do?

I often get yelled at about how fast I read, so clearly I'm doing something different.  But I have no idea how to describe to you how I read.  So how do we know if we do it the same?

My curiosity extends beyond that to whether or not my thought process functions the same way as others'.  I think that I think in scenes more than other people, but again, I really have no way of knowing that.

I don't know why the reading thing bugs me so much, but if anyone ever wants to sit down and describe in detail what happens in your brain when you see words on a page for me, I would really appreciate it.

OK, I need to go to sleep now.  And I'll never post 3 times in one day again, I promise.

*OK, luckily the internet wasn't working at midnight when I tried to post this.  So technically it's not 3 posts in one day...  See, I'm not blog obsessed!  

Oh, Pam...

This always makes me happy...  I miss these girls and this place.

If ever I'm sad, I'll watch this video and remember that I worked in a place that I loved and that loved me and that I did my job well.  The Canyon holds a piece of my heart.

Can't wait to see it again in a few short weeks!

I Would Like a Grande Americano with 2 Pumps of White Chocolate, Please

I'm glad to see that someone took my threat seriously... Good post, Liz!

Here's another question for the blogosphere to ponder:  How is it that a cup of coffee in your hand can be the most relaxing thing in the world with the added bonus of giving you energy for the next couple of hours?

Seriously, that's an important question.  My love affair with (or addiction to) coffee continues to grow and grow.  I love coffee shops, I love coffee itself, I love the energy boost, I love drinking hot drinks.  I started to write an ode to coffee but its going to have to wait until I'm in a more creative mood (and until I can think of something to rhyme with caffeinated.)

On a completely separate note, I watched Martian Child and it reaffirmed that I want to adopt, preferably the actual kids that stars in the movie.  I think the story is one more example of the transformative power of simple love.  I highly suggest the movie, it's great.

Also, the part at the end where the kid is on top of the observatory made me think of one thing and one thing only:

"Dominic!  Get down from there!"

Name that movie.  We can only be friends if you know this reference.

The pressure's on.

I've Identified that Rancid Smell... It's Called Desperation (Bachelor, Ep. 2)

Week #2 of the Bachelor is over and it was again everything I would hope it to be.  It's a horrible train wreck and I will continue to watch faithfully every week because I seriously love this season.

I have hated some seasons of the Bachelor, mainly when the Bachelors are huge tools, i.e. Andrew Firestone and Lorenzo.  But I like Jason.  He seems sincere, if not a little naive and idealistic.

Some observations from this week:

Who the hell was the girl who decided to go home?  I had never seen that girl once on the show before then.

You have to love Jason a little for trying to pull off the vest over t-shirt look.  He's not cool enough for that.  But he was cool enough for the kick-ass leather jacket he wore later on that date.  Redeemed for now.

Someone is lying about their age.  I won't name names, but it rhymes with Schmephanie.  (I'm saying no younger than 38 with quite a bit of plastic surgery to boot.)

What is with the way Jason awkwardly holds hands with the girl he's talking too?  It's not even during some kind of intimate conversation.  They're totally just sitting there having a normal conversation.  That would piss me off.  I need my hands to talk.

Do you think these women will forever feel a Pavlovian-like anxiety when they hear a knife clinking against a glass, a la Chris Harrison announcing a rose ceremony?

The "break dancing" and synchronized swimming were awesome!

Why does the girl from Missouri have to be the one that's kind of a stalker?

And my favorite quotes of the night:

"For three of these women, their dreams of marrying Jason will be dashed tonight..." -Chris Harrison voiceover

"In my last relationship, I was cheated on...  She was 52." -Erica

"I want someone to love me to death... Literally, I mean, if I die, he would be so in love with me that it would be very unlikely he would ever remarry." -Raquel

Lastly, the moment that made me involuntarily look away and cover my eyes with my hands because it was so awkward:

Naomi first talked about how she was going to kiss Jason and then aggressively went for it when he was going for a hug.  After she was rejected with an awkwardly placed peck, she was undeterred and actually asked him to kiss her.  Why on earth would he say yes?

In the end, Nikki's looking even stronger but I think she's going to get in trouble talking about all the other girls to Jason.  Raquel and Sharon who quit her job got the ax.  I wish it were Erica.

See you next week!

Chicken or the Egg?

First, I need to take care of some business... Everyone who has a blog needs to update it!  NOW!  If I know you and you have a blog, I check it every day.  Most of you do not update it.  I'm a nanny facing joblessness, people.  I need to have some blog posts to look forward to in my day.

On to more pressing issues:

Are we eating chicken embryos when we eat eggs?  My stepsister asked this question a couple of weeks ago and I have spent a while researching it since.  I still have no answer.  

I know that chicken eggs are fertilized as they are pushed out by the hen.  I also know that not all eggs a hen lays are necessarily fertilized.  And I also know that embryos don't start growing until the hen sits on the eggs.

All of these things are interesting conversation starters (or, you know, not) but they do not really answer the question.  Those facts make it possible that we're not eating chicken embryos when we eat eggs, but they don't really say for sure that we're not.  

So if anyone out there know what they're talking about when it comes to chickens, I'd appreciate an answer.  Not that it's probably going to change my egg consumption one way or the other, but I want to be an informed consumer.

Also, this is what happens when people don't update their blogs.  I have to spend my internet time researching stuff like this.  Help!

Bachelor tonight!  Eek!

13, How I Miss Thee

I was listening to the soundtrack from 13 the Musical which is a surprisingly good show with actors all under the age of 15.  It got me thinking about myself at 13. 

This train of thought led to one realization only.  And that is that there were many, many things I thought were cool at 13 that I now realize are super lame.  Here's a few examples:

1) Val Kilmer... I thought he was so hot as I would've put it then.  Now he looks like he overuses spray tanner and is 50 years old (both of which are probably accurate).

2) Being a celebrity.... I thought I should definitely be famous.  It seemed like everyone should want to take pictures of me and I should spend my time getting Starbucks and hanging out with other celebrities.  However, it turns out I hate crowds and get mad when people invade my personal space.

3) Wearing Jncos and a flannel shirt unbuttoned over a 311 t-shirt... That's right.  This was my favorite outfit of all time.  I was street. (Oh, and a tool.)

4) Talking in chat rooms on AOL... This is single-handedly the most confusing way to attempt to communicate with someone.  I never had any idea who said what and would always get frustrated when what I was trying to respond to was long gone by the time my post got there.  Dial-up internet didn't help the process.

5) Writing angsty poetry on my word processor and saving it to floppy disks... Yeah, you can be jealous.  I got to keep our crappy old computer in my room. You could use microsoft paint and type in wordperfect.  That was the height of technology.

6) Trying to get people to think I was cool... I probably still do this, but at least I realize it's lame.

7) Sneaking drinks of Jack Daniels straight out of the bottle and then acting like I was wasted... I don't think I need to elaborate on this one.

8) Rolling my eyes at anything any authority figure said to me...  Don't even try to tell me to do my homework.  I will show you sass like you've never seen.

9) Using a big curling iron and an ozone-killing amount of hairspray to turn my bangs into one giant curl on my forehead... I'm actually going to bring this look back.  I think it was flattering.

10) Mini-backpacks... I had several of these.  My personal favorite was one that was black pleather.  Beat that.

It is really amazing what an idiot I was in middle school.  But at least I'm cool now, right?  Right?  Anyone?  (Who am I kidding, I'm going to make a list about what an idiot I was at 23 in another 10 years.)

Gotta remember your past to move forward.  That's my new motto.  You can use it if you want.

Oh, and...

Everyone should check out Bryce's new website...

Yes, I'm Still Talking About Twilight

I've become a bigger fan of Twilight and here's why: almost everyone I know has read/is reading them.  I discussed them with my grade-school aged cousin at family Christmas.  Ashley, Elizabeth, and Ryan were all reading them in KC.  And now my mom is sitting across the room from me reading the first book.

Normally I hate being on the bandwagon, unless I can firmly state that I was all about whatever it is months before you had ever even heard of it.  (Do you judge me a little for saying that?  I do.) But it never bothers me with books.  I think it's because it's kind of rare to find someone else who has read the same book that I'm reading.  It doesn't happen very often. 

I've realized that most people like to have a book that they're working on, but more often than not it's some kind of self-help or other non-fiction book.  And those are great and important and I read plenty of them.  But I get really excited when people are reading for pure enjoyment, not necessarily to learn anything.

I think I might need to be a teacher some day.  And if I am, I'll encourage my students to read crap like Twilight because at least it gets the imagination flowing.  

Don't worry, I haven't lost all my dignity.  I still try to hide the fact that I love them until I know that the person I'm talking to loves them too.  It's like a funny club or something.

On another note, it's snowing like crazy here!  It's kind of eerie because the streets are empty.  But it's also really beautiful.  I'll try to take some pictures.  But no guarantees.  It's really cold.

Much love.

The Nanny is Actually Pretty Funny

My friend Paige sent me a link to this video today which reminded me why Ellen is clearly the best daytime talk show host.

This also reminded me why I love Paige.  There are actually many reasons for that.  I think I'll make a list:

1) She sends me funny youtube clips and trailers for movies she thinks I'll like.  And she's always right.  

2) She reads this blog.

3) She was the only one to stick out 2 years at 203 Nikki with me... No getting married or real jobs for us!  In fact, that's the longest I've ever lived with anyone outside my family.

4) She got the pink binder of Sex and the City DVDs and then watched the entire series with me over a couple months.

5) She shares 2 cats that she dresses up in Mizzou gear on game days.

6) She made it a point to be in bed every night to watch the Nanny at 11:00 pm in college.  

7) She's going to go on Wheel of Fortune with me.

8) She loves Disney World as much as me.  

9) She gets this excited about the So You Think You Can Dance Tour:

10) We could have ridiculous amounts of fun going to movies, having roommate dates to Chili's and simply staying home watching TV and playing Friends Scene It.

In summary, Paige is cool and Ellen is funny.  Enough said.  

Still Stuck

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

What's love but a second-hand emotion?

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

Who needs a heart, when a heart can be broken?

I've had this song stuck in my head for approximately 5 years now.  Not lying.  I think I can add this to my list of reasons I fear a mental illness.  

The biggest problem is not that this song is super annoying, it's more so that the chorus, those 4 lines I have typed up there, are the only ones of the song that I know.  So I haven't really had a song stuck in my head for 5 years, just a chorus.

Now, normally I combat this by jamming to some sweet tunes in my car.  I am the ultimate car singer.  My friend Zack would tell you that he is.  And he is good.  You can see a sample of his skills at about 3:56 in this video which also features Glen.  To be fair, that doesn't even come close to fully representing Zack's ability to jam in the car.  I have never admired him as much as during the 14-hour road trip we took to Colorado a couple years a go.   

But I think I have him beat.  Case in point: when I was home in MO I actually lost my voice from singing (screaming) Beyonce's "If I Were a Boy" followed by Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats" in the car.  You have to be singing pretty loudly to lose your voice in 10 minutes.

It was not pretty.  

But since I don't have a car in NYC, I'm just stuck with "What's Love Got to Do with it?" until I happen upon something catchier.   It's a pretty great song, but 5 years is too long.

Just so you know, I've sung the song (chorus) in my head about 10 times in the time it has taken me to write this post.  Also a few rounds of Fiona Apple's "Criminal" because, uh, it's awesome.

Sing it loud, sing it proud.  That's my new motto.  You can use it if you want.

Much Love.

I'm a Vagabond... A Glamorous One!

Sometimes I get irrationally mad at inanimate objects.  Yesterday was a nail, today is Facebook.  (I've realize after typing this that Facebook isn't really an object but I don't want to get into the existential bullshit that would go with trying to define what "person, place, thing, or idea" category Facebook would go in... You'd have to look at my brother's blog for crap like that.)

The reason I'm mad at Facebook is simple:  I can't get my freaking pictures to upload.  I've read the entire feature article in this week's Newsweek as well as the funny celebrity gossipish page in the back and the book/movie reviews.  This is not a particularly short task, but was all accomplished in the amount of time it took 5 pictures to upload on Facebook.

Honestly, my Newsweek is probably to blame for my disgruntled attitude, but I love it too much to blame it.  Facebook and I have always had a volatile relationship.

The reason Newsweek is breaking my heart is because, even though it's the low, low price of only $20 for an entire year, I can't justify spending any money to renew my subscription.  I'm super broke and don't have a job and am taking a cross country road trip and am moving.  Yeah.  All of those add up to the issue I read today being my last issue of Newsweek for a while.

For those of you who don't know, I've been getting Newsweek since my senior year of high school and for a few years, was getting Time as well.  I don't know why, but I somehow feel better getting my news from a respectable, only slightly obviously biased newsmagazine than any of the crap on TV.  So that means that Newsweek has been in my life longer than most of the people who read this blog.

But sacrifices must be made.  I'm just going to pretend I'm some kind of glamorous vagabond so that I don't get sad or anxious about the fact that I'm broke broke.  (And actually in debt, thank you student loans!)  I'd rather have fun than things.  So Newsweek must go.

Oh, well.  I guess it's back to getting my news from the internet and John Stewart just like everyone else in the world.  Dumb, uninformed and broke, but loving life anyway!  (That's going to be my new motto.  You can use it if you want.)

Is It OK to Like a Guy Because of His Kid? (Bachelor, Ep. 1)

Being without cable for a year and half kind of turned me into one of those snotty, "Oh, I don't think I've ever heard of that show" people.  I pretend like I no longer care about trashy reality television and only think of important things, like literature and world peace.

But who am I kidding?  I spent my night with this:

That's right, the new Bachelor!  In case you don't know (i.e. me), this is Jason and he was rejected at the end of the last Bachelorette by a girl named DeAnna.  He actually proposed and she shot him down.  Ouch.  

All of the Bachelors have a hook.  There was the doctor, the football player (ewk), the brother of Rebecca Romijn's husband (ewkier), the Navy officer/doctor, the Italian prince (the ewkiest), and Bob.

Jason's hook is that he's a single dad.  He has a ridiculously cute 3-year-old son named Ty (who would be worth it even if his dad wasn't cute).  Ty charmed the pants off of the women of America (and me!) and they rallied hard when Jason was rejected to secure his place as the next Bachelor.

America tends to have better judgment than the producers of the Bachelor.  The best contestant ever was Trista who was rejected on the Bachelor and then met Ryan on her season of the Bachelorette (and got married and had babies!).  She rejected Bob who also got his own season of the Bachelor and was another of my favorites.  On the other side, the producers picked this guy (aka the ewky Prince):

His name's Lorenzo... I'll stop now.  We've moved onto better days.

The first episode of every season starts with 25 women.  After kind of yelling when Emily from Seattle stepped out of the car because I KNOW HER (seriously, Work Crew Malibu 2003), I settled in to quietly judge.  

My inner feminist cringed at every word.  These women throw themselves at him and actually cry when he decides that he doesn't want to marry them after a drunken night in an overly colorful mansion.  It's creepy.  

And he's no better.  He keeps talking about how he's certain his future wife is in the crowd of 25 women.  I do think there's something to be said about timing.  What I mean is, I think a lot of people get married because they decide it's time to and the person they're with right then seems like they'll do.  So if he were in a normal room of 25 women that liked him (and they would, he's cute and a single dad), I bet he could find someone.

But these women are crazy!  It's too intense of an environment to find a spouse.  I'm continually incredulous of the concept. 

That being said, I can't wait to watch the rest of the season.  I'm addicted to the drama!  See you at the Rose Ceremony!

P.S. I'm putting my money on Naomi.

I'm Not Fooling Anyone Anyway

I had an experience today that proved to me that I'm not a New Yorker.

I was walking into Starbucks and the man that holds the door open for people in the hopes of getting some spare change out of the deal caught my eye.  My midwestern self instinctively smiled at him.  I then began to hurry through the door because I remembered that New Yorkers don't make eye contact and certainly don't smile.

The man started to say something and I tried to hurry faster because I didn't want to feel guilty about the fact that I wasn't going to give him money when he asked.

Then I heard what he said which was, "Keep smiling that pretty smile, sweetheart.  God bless."

And he didn't say it in a creepy way.  He said it in a genuine way.  

I was so surprised and oddly touched that I turned, smiled again, and said thank you, completely blowing my cover.  It struck me that it was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in a long time.  It was genuinely sweet. 

So I made a resolution, a Jan. 5 resolution.  I decided that every time I think something nice about someone I'm going to try to say it out loud.  Even if I'm just thinking that I like some stranger's shirt or if I'm thinking about someone far away and I have to call them to tell them.  I'm going to do it anyway because I think we all really need to hear nice things.

We spend much too much of our time in our relationships with other people trying to communicate all of our displeasure with them under the guise of "accountability" and not nearly enough time simply enjoying the people around us.

Oh, and I'm going to keep smiling at people.  I don't want to ignore them, and it's more pleasant anyway.

Don't worry, I haven't gone soft on you.  I'm still going to avoid the crazies on the subway like the plague and silently judge people who look snotty.  It's unavoidable.

Much Love.