Guilty pleasure #13

Pop 08 - Movies & TV

Best movies:
The Dark Knight
Slumdog Millionaire

Most addictive TV shows:
Gossip Girl
Parking Wars
CSI: Miami reruns
Yo Gabba Gabba!
Dirty Sexy Money

Biggest TV disappointments:
It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
90210

Guilty pleasure #12

This isn't new but I just love it.

Pop 08 - Tunes

Along with millions of other people, I'm throwing my two cents in about the best pop culture from 2008. Only when I say pop culture, I'm referring to the syrup-y sweet, superficially bad for you pop that keeps USA Today and VH1 in business.

Tunes, part one...

Best Brit import (TIE): Estelle "American Boy" and Duffy "Mercy"

Best break-up song: Leona Lewis "Better in Time"

Most overplayed song that you just can't get out of your head: T.I. "Whatever You Like"

Best dance song (TIE): Britney Spears "Womanizer" and Beyonce "Single Ladies" and Neyo "Closer"

Guilty pleasure #11

I saw him play in LA a year and a half ago and was hooked, so it's not a guilty pleasure so much as just a regular pleasure.

I can't stop eating

I don't even want to keep eating these ridiculously delicious Kudos bars. I really want a giant steak and mashed potato dinner, or maybe a delicious plate of Thai food.
I read that sometimes when you think you're hungry you're really just thirsty, but I've been drinking water like it's my job. So I thought maybe I really wanted a Diet Coke, but the vending machine was out of it, along with Diet Mountain Dew and (yuck) Diet Pepsi.


And there's no steak or Thai food in the office that I know of, so I'll just keep wolfing down these amazing Kudos bars. Did I mention they're delicious? They really are. Even the Snickers ones.

Oh man, I literally can't stop eating. I'll have to be forklifted out of my desk before long. Even worse, I'll go on my "staycation" for two weeks and do nothing but sit on my couch and eat. Not only will I be alone on Christmas but I'll have to ring in the New Year by holding a bell and rolling myself down the hall.

Man, that's cold

Yesterday it was 50 degrees.
This morning with the wind chill it's -10.

Lesson learned

No matter how much you or the people around you are drinking, a camera will always be sober. So when you don't remember all the details, just know that your camera will be the asshole friend who reminds you.

I love everything about this

Yo Gabba Gabba saved my life

Ok, that's not true. But it is an amazing show. I have to credit Joel McHale for introducing me to it. About a week ago, Pat and I were watching an episode of "The Soup" when a Yo Gabba Gabba clip aired. What was this crazy show, we wondered. We searched for the next episode to queue up on the ol' DVR. Was it worth more than the 15 seconds of time "The Soup" gave it?

It's as if Pat and I were born to be Yo Gabba Gabba's oldest single/childless evangelists. Ok, that sounds creepy. But according to Nick Jr. the show is aimed at the 1+ age group, and we certainly qualify. So what's creepy about a couple of adults enjoying some quality television with bright colors, fun characters, kooky dancing, catchy tunes, and a positive moral message? Not a thing, I say. Plus, the very first episode we saw (we've since gotten about a dozen more)had music from Of Montreal and DataRock. What 1-year old is going to appreciate that?

And having the "wiggle, wiggle baby teeth" song stuck in my head for several days really isn't so bad.

Crowd control

I rarely fly on Thanksgiving weekend mostly because travelers are just asking for trouble - delayed and canceled flights, inflated ticket prices, screaming babies, general hellishness...

Last night I ventured to one of America's craziest airports to pick up my roommate. Not surprisingly, his flight was delayed 3 hours and it started snowing once I got there. While I waited and watched the hundreds of passengers shuffling around, I started to remember some of my pet peeves about people in crowded public places.

- If I am standing with my feet hip width apart and have at least five feet of clearance all around me, there is no reason anyone should step on my toes or jostle into me. I don't take up much space, so respect my bubble. It's not my fault that you can't control your feet, or your overstuffed luggage limits your turning radius, or your unnecessary assortment of pillows, jackets and blankets have tripled your normal circumference.

- Do not stop immediately after passing through a doorway to get your bearings. The 700 people behind you are fully justified in shoving you for your stupidity and thoughtlessness. Make sure you are clear of the door and other traffic - at the very least step to the side! - before making a full stop to stare stupidly around you.

- Congratulations for walking through a crowd without hip-checking or tripping anyone. Now how about doing something about those unruly children of yours who are running amok, wreaking havoc and generally making people miserable. You would think this only applies to toddlers, but surprisingly, it also applies to children in their teens who have apparently only been loose in open fields and are allowed to stumble and dart around like a rabid horse.

Falling in love on the bus

I fell in love on the bus this morning.

The bus was more crowded than usual but after a few stops I got a seat in the very back row. I immediately took out the crossword puzzle as I do every day and got to work on it. At one point I looked up to think about a clue and caught sight of this guy - a man really - sitting across from me. Because of our position, I could safely look at him without it seeming too awkward. And so I did. Every couple minutes I would glance up from my puzzle and stare. Watching him, I didn't feel a flutter of butterflies I usually feel when something or someone piques my interest. Instead, I felt remarkably calm and contented.

He doesn't have striking looks but might be considered handsome. What first caught my attention was that his hair, his eyes and his beard are all the exact same shade of brown. This won't make sense but it reminded me of a comfortable pair of corduroy pants. It's hard to tell how old he is and I think the beard might make him appear older, but I would guess that he's in his mid-30s. While I have never liked guys with facial hair, I found his beard to be a necessity, giving him a mature, laid-back appearance and heightening the intensity of his perfectly matched brown eyes and hair.

He was reading a book I hadn't heard of called Straight Man. I've since looked it up on Amazon and it seems to be a humorous story about the absurdities of a middle-aged English professor. Did I mention that I want to be a college professor? The most endearing thing about this guy was that the pages of his book were yellowed around the edges. Something about this guy sitting on the bus with his beautiful brown hair and an aged copy of a 10-year old book drove me absolutely insane.

When I felt like I had been watching his face for too long (it turned out he never looked up from the pages of his book and so never caught me staring), I would sheepishly drop my gaze to his sneakers. Skechers. What man wears Skechers, I wondered. Was he trying to counter the masses of New Balance and Nike wearers? Was he a trendsetter in his office and the first to make Skechers acceptable for grown men? Or was he indifferent and simply bought what was comfortable and affordable? It seemed the type of thing someone would wear if their mom dressed them. Oh boy, did he live with his mom? And then I looked, as I inevitably do, to his left hand. Despite the 21 degree weather, he wasn't wearing gloves. Or maybe he was but he removed them to turn the pages of his book, as I had to fill in my crossword puzzle. Whatever the reason, his uncovered left hand revealed a simple platinum band on the fourth finger. Of course he's married. Of course. A girl would be a fool to let him slip through her fingers.

He looked, sitting on a crowded city bus and so thoroughly lost in the pages of his book, he looked so peaceful and agreeable. I imagine he's the type of husband who tolerates his wife's stories of office gossip with an interested nod and a sympathetic smile. He would rather crack open a beer and watch The Office (the original BBC version naturally), but instead he stands with her in the kitchen, rubbing her back when she passes him to put dishes in the cupboard.

I kept staring at him, waiting for a glimpse into his world. Around us, others were fidgeting with their iPods or cell phones or rustling the pages of the paper. Those who were unfortunate to have to stand would shuffle and lean as the bus lurched and started. But he sat perfectly still, never moving except to turn a page, never looking up to verify his surroundings or to see if his stop was approaching. So engrossed was he that his eyes never flitted from the pages of the book, even when I was sure that my steadfast gaze must be burning a hole into his head. He never said a word, never coughed or sniffled, never made a sound.

He was on the bus when I got on and stayed on after I got off. For thirty-five minutes he remained perfectly still and silent. Perfectly wonderful to gaze at and wonder about. I'm quite sure I'll never see him again. But I'm in love.

I heart Droga5

Actual conversation #2

- The Mayans all died because Christopher Columbus gave them chlamydia.
- I thought it was Cortez.
- Oh well, I don't know what that is. "Yikes, I've got Cortez!"

Guilty pleasure #10

Guilty pleasure #9

I always forget about this song but I stumbled across it this morning and had to add it to the list.

Coolest. Spot. Ever.

Guilty pleasure #8

How rude!

I just saw this on Captivate, a goldmine of useless information in the elevator of my office building:

80% of Americans surveyed say rudeness is a national problem, but 99% of the same people say they are not rude.

I'm going to go way out on a limb here and say those same statistics apply to stupid people, bad drivers, loud cellphone talkers in public, and assholes. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery people.

Take time to appreciate a stop sign today

Guilty pleasure #7

This is a guilty pleasure for two reasons:
1. I like the song
2. I like almost everything the song has been featured in - One Tree Hill, What About Brian, Because I Said So...

However,
I do NOT like that this is featured in the new McD's McRib commercial (sigh).
Also, I really don't like the video - it has a very cheesy Gap-commercial-circa-1992 feel to it. It could be the ridiculous hair or the henley + necklace fashion statement (oh yeah, and he's also a whore for the Gap - shocker).

Karma is actually not a bitch at all

I don't spend much time thinking about whether I'm a "good" person or not. I just kind of do what I do and hope for the best. But I'm a big believer in karma, so I guess in some ways I'm driven by that.

For example, if I treat someone I care about like shit, I figure that at some point, someone I care about (maybe even that same person) will do the same to me. Or conversely, if I make the person taking my order at the drive-thru laugh, maybe I'll find a dollar on the sidewalk later. I also think that if enough really bad shit happens, at some point it will turn around and good stuff will start to happen.

But, as is my way, I don't consciously think things through most of the time. I don't think, "Hey, if I let this person get in front of me in line, maybe I won't get mugged in the parking lot" or "I'm going to hang out with someone I don't like just because I'm lonely but I fully expect that person to mug me in the parking lot later."

What I'm trying to say is, without even trying, I think I've accumulated quite a few good karma points in the last few days. Which, given my state of affairs for the past few months, is long overdue. The best part is that I actually feel pretty good about things. Oh, and I haven't been mugged in a parking lot either.

Old lady-itis

Last night I went for a 2-mile run after work. It was my first outdoor run in many months. I was a wee bit nervous because I've had some trouble with my knees lately. Also, I am lactose intolerant and don't take vitamins so I'm painfully aware that I will probably develop early osteoporosis and shatter all my bones in a freak accident while making a birthday cake for my cat alone in my house.

During my run, I was pleased to notice that my knees felt great. After I got home, I noticed that my right hip was throbbing - a kind of dull pain that was unlike any running-related joint pain I'd experienced in my knees or ankles. So I figured it would just go away after awhile.

Wrong.

This morning just getting out of bed and walking the 8 feet to the bathroom made me double over in pain and throw up in my mouth a little. And now I'm hobbling around like an old woman, clutching my hips and sighing a lot when I walk around.

It seems perfectly fitting that I'm volunteering at a senior center tonight. Maybe I'll borrow some Ben-Gay from one of the residents. Maybe I'll just reserve a room for myself.

Eternal sunshine

According to this article, scientists are now able to selectively erase memories from mice, a la Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, one of my top 3 movies of all time.

Until the science is perfected for humans, I'll just stick to deleting people out of my cell phone, blocking them from gchat and defriending them on Facebook.

Bad sign

How I know it's time to give up hope for any possible relationship/social life/interpersonal interaction:

1. A potentially flirtatious exchange involving the rescue of peanut M&Ms in the office vending machine led to no exchange of phone numbers... or first names.

2. My friendship with an ex has been pre-empted while he's busy juggling dates.

3. My summer crush still doesn't really know I exist.

4. At a recent Halloween party, I spent more time alone watching a movie where a man gets attacked by a vampire sheep fetus than I did talking to anyone.

5. Match.com is full of guys looking for girls younger than me.

6. Two volunteer organizations I contacted about helping haven't returned my calls/emails.

7. Confirmation emails from Amazon.com are the most exciting thing in my inbox.

8. I'm living vicariously through other people's Facebook posts.

9. I spent three nights of the past four doing things alone among crowds of people - drinking at a bar, attending a film festival, sorting books at a book swap.

10. I opted to call customer service at the gas company rather than email my question just so I would have someone to talk to.

Top three

Top three favorite Jenny Lewis songs

Dammit Pop-Tarts!

Pop-Tarts has turned my hardened heart to mush.

About 3 weeks ago I picked up a box of Pop-Tarts. My favorite flavor is frosted blueberry, which is actually kind of hard to find. I spotted a box and threw it in my basket. Not until a few days later when I actually opened the box, got out a package, opened that, and THEN took a bite did I realize that I accidentally picked up chocolate vanilla cream, a flavor I would NEVER buy. But dammit Pop-Tarts, I loved it.

The next time I went specifically looking for the chocolate vanilla cream flavor but I couldn't find it or frosted blueberry so I settled for frosted strawberry. And then tonight, as I was snacking on one, I noticed the most adorable packaging. Dammit Pop-Tarts, you are just too cute.

Smells like winter's coming...

It was a brisk night, the kind that warns that winter isn't too far off. As I was walking to my bus stop, I smelled the familiar cold-weather scent of a fire and thought how nice it must be to have a fireplace on a night like tonight. And then I saw that it wasn't the kind of romantic fire that two lovers might snuggle in a sheepskin in front of.

No, this was the type of fire that a crowd of hungry homeless guys with fingerless gloves would hover around. Yep, a garbage can fire.



It was just sitting on the corner of a very busy intersection flaming away like RuPaul at a beauty pageant. Fortunately, one of the traffic cops called for help. Kind of. He called a city street sanitation officer who drove up in his SUV to confirm that yes, there was a fire burning in a trash can. The two of them talked for a couple of minutes, probably just to get the other's confirmation that there was a fire. Finally, the street janitor (who are we kidding with the sanitation officer moniker?) then called the fire department. With that kind of efficiency, I'm sure we have nothing to worry about in case of real city emergency.

In fact, the city bus actually made it to my stop before the fire department so I wasn't able to witness what was surely some sort of ridiculous traffic congesting shitstorm to put out what one homeless guy's urine could have easily doused.

That actually worked??

You know how sometimes you hear about someone's dumb idea failing and you think to yourself (or say out loud), "No shit it failed. It was a stupid idea."

And then other times, you hear about someone's dumb idea actually making money or buzz or whatever and you say, "Holy shit. That actually worked?"

This website is one such idea, born from the minds of two advertising art directors, Christine and Justin.

They paint something that they want, then sell the painting for the amount it would cost to buy it. If they want a slice of pizza, they'll paint one and sell it for $3. Then they use the money to literally buy a slice of pizza. They have also used this idea to fund a trip to Vegas (including airfare, hotel, shows and gambling money) and buy an assortment of video games, haircuts, and nights out.



It's not all ridiculous though. They have another site using the same idea to raise money for charity.

And then... they have this: a site that literally sells a clear plastic container of authentic NYC garbage, sealed and signed by Justin himself. $50!



And here I am, the idiot who makes a living by going to an office everyday.

New digs

Well, it's official. I have a new apartment. Well, technically we have a new apartment since I'll be living with Pat. It was the 3rd apartment of 4 that we saw one night after work (and about the 12th one I had seen in a few days).

When we arrived, the girl at the door whispered that her roommates were watching a movie in the living room so we tiptoed around the apartment looking at stuff. It was weird to have all three tenants there while we poked around so I barely looked at anything. In fact, I didn't even step foot into what will be my bedroom, so I don't know anything about it. Still, Pat and I decided without hesitation that this would be our apartment. It has big bedrooms (from what I remember), laundry and extra storage in the basement, it's in a great neighborhood, and it's half a block to the bus and about 12 different bars.

Today we went to sign the lease and after work we celebrated by each buying an iPod shuffle. Ok, so maybe we weren't celebrating, but we did sign the lease and we did both buy an iPod shuffle.

My first piece of new apartment business was to set up our cable so we wouldn't miss a minute of Gossip Girl or It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I went to Comcast's website to check out their cable/internet packages. Because I work in an office where everyone can hear everyone's conversations (see previous post about inappropriate noises), I decided to place my order online and avoid having to talk on the phone.

So it turns out that this is the best idea Comcast has ever had. When you place your order online you are automatically connected via IM to a sales rep who takes your info and answers questions. And boy did I have a lot of questions. In fact, I was IM'ing my new Comcast friend for over an hour but it didn't seem like a nuisance at all. No annoying hold music and I could do two things at once (like IM Pat about whether we should get DVR and HBO - yes and no). Genius! IM also allowed me to challenge the price (something I would probably never do on the phone) and I ended up getting a better deal than the advertised special AND I saved $20 on the installation.

This wasn't my first great experience IMing a company. The other day I scheduled a rental truck to move all my stuff out of storage and the company - Penske - offered live chat with a customer service agent too. I got to ask a million questions and get answers in writing. It was all so simple and hassle-free.

I'm beginning to think all customer service should be handled via IM.

Or maybe I'm just giddy about getting a new apartment.

Guilty pleasure #6

Yeah, I like Britney - for her catchy tunes and her train wreck of a life. Everyone who knows me knows that. So it's probably no surprise that I can't stop listening to this song. Welcome back from insanity Brit Brit! Plus, she's back to her Toxic hotness, so I can't help but be a little jealous.

Britney Spears - Womanizer

Girl stuff

I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about how stupid girls are, but I am, in fact, a girl myself. As such, there are some things I do that feed the stereotype that I so often mock - I love to shop, I love blaring top 40 music on my car radio, and I love shoes.

I spent most of the past couple days moping about and convinced that I had become a sad and lonely cat lady 20 years too early. But this morning I decided to do something to lift my spirits. Something that involved all three of my girlish loves.

I went shopping for shoes.

Driving down the street with my windows cracked (it's a brisk 58 degrees today) and singing along to the new Britney single "Womanizer" was the first step in elevating my spirits. The next song was Pink's "So What" which I nearly shouted in an ectastic delirium.

"So what! I'm still a rock star! I've got my rock moves! And I don't neeeeeeed yoooouuuu! And guess what! I'm having more fun! And now that we’re done! I’m gonna shooooowwwww you tonight! I’m alright! I'm just fine!"

And then, I found not one or two, but three perfect pairs of shoes and two pairs of jeans that are so ass-flattering I might wear them everyday.

So guess what? I am a girl. And I'm feeling pretty damn good about things right now.

Inappropriate noises

I have a semi-office, meaning it's a glorified cubicle with tall walls and a door - though not quite tall enough to reach the ceiling, it still offers a false sense of privacy. I can't see anyone from my little beige kingdom. In fact, I've never seen the guy who sits next to me, but I know from overhearing his phone calls that he just moved into a new apartment, he talks to his mom at least twice a week, and he has rearranged his social calendar several times to accommodate last minute crises at work.

So while I can't see anyone, I can hear every little rustle, cough and phone call of the five people sitting around me. That means, presumably, that they can also hear me. That's not really a problem, because although I love to talk, I still don't know anyone here so I spend 97% of my day completely silent.

I've done two things in the last two days to break that silence in an embarrassing way. They both involve Jenny, so I'm blaming her and charging her with any therapy I might undergo as a result. Yesterday there was some sort of celebration that involved snacks and drinks, which naturally drew people out of their dreary offices into the common area. I wandered out of my office and got caught up in a discussion about moist meat panties. At the time it was very interesting but when I walked the 12 feet back into my office I realized that everyone sitting nearby had probably heard my analysis of the topic. And since I've said almost nothing since I've gotten here, they might very well think that is all I talk about.

The second thing happened today. After a crazy week I finally had some down time this afternoon, so I perused the blogosphere, as the kids do these days. I stumbled onto Jenny's blog and immediately remembered that it's quite funny. In fact, I actually started to laugh but then tried to stifle it (after all, I can't be the girl who talks about meat panties AND sits alone in her office laughing) so it came out like some sort of snort-ish/giggling/yawning noise.

All is not lost though. In case I resort to doing hard-core drugs to hide my social awkwardness, I just found out that a 30-day stint in rehab is covered by my health insurance.

Can't get it out of my head

I'm going through another phase where I can't stop listening to one artist. About a month ago it was Rilo Kiley. Now I'm back to Griffin House.

I'm on the hunt

I'm apartment hunting, a task I usually enjoy. Only my happy funtime has been complicated by the fact that I'm kind of caught in my current apartment until December. I really want to move out ASAP, even though I have absolutely no furniture - no couch, no bed, no TV - so moving out would mean sleeping on the floor and staring at the wall. I am beginning to think that's okay, given my experience in my current apartment.

I think I'm pretty easy. Here is all I'm looking for:
- Something I don't have to share
- Someplace free of bed bugs or other bugs/allergens that cause my body to bloat up like a balloon and itch to the point of not being able to sleep or do my work
- Something cheap enough that I can afford to buy some furniture and maybe even have money left over for cable
- Someplace where I won't get shot
- Did I mention no bugs?

This is a city with millions of people. Surely I can find some place to live...

A-ha! Now I get it...

What a delight this new version is, in a creepy high-pitched voice/ubiquitous 80s video kind of way. Thank you YouTube.

Saturday afternoon

I spent my afternoon watching "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants."

A recap for anyone who hasn't seen (or read) it:
Blake Lively (from Gossip Girl) plays Bridget... soccer star/total hussy goes to soccer camp and pursues one of the coaches

Amber Tamblyn (from Joan of Arcadia) plays Tibby... aspiring filmmaker/total bore works a retail job and befriends a way more interesting 12-year old

America Ferrara (from Ugly Betty) plays Carmen... victim of divorce/total stereotype visits her dad to find he has moved on to family #2

Alexis Bledel (from Gilmore Girls) plays Lena... aspiring artist/total goody-goody visits family in Greece and falls for a forbidden boy

Despite the movie being only mediocre, I found myself sobbing at the end like a hormonal 8th grader. Damn you ABC Family.

Guilty pleasure #5

It's not new, but this song is perfect for getting the weekend started... and it reminds me of the crazy week that was New Year's at the beach.

I am not a morning person.

I am not a morning person. I am, quite definitely, a night owl.

For the past week, my apartment has been without hot water. No problem - I've just been showering at the gym after my evening swim. That worked fine until I skipped my swim yesterday so I could work a little later and still make it home in time for Gossip Girl (give me a break, it's not on Hulu). That meant that this morning I would either have to brave a freezing cold shower (while the temp outside was hovering around 50 degrees) or drag myself to the gym before work.

I hate cold showers more than I hate mornings, so I chose the gym. And this morning, at 6:30am, I was at the bus stop in my workout gear and a sweatshirt, hopping back and forth to keep warm.

Normally I swim, but I left my swimming gear at work yesterday, which meant this morning I had to run an embarrassing and torturous two miles. My reward, of course, was a hot shower. But before I could savor that small luxury, my eyes were violated by the sight of an unacceptable number of over-40, overweight women who were so comfortable with their flab and sag that they wandered around the locker room naked and uninhibited.

Things were definitely not getting off to a good start. To make matters worse, my gym bag was so laden with clothes and the accoutrements of getting ready before work that I struggled to carry it up the three flights of stairs from the gym and the three blocks to work.

I got to my desk at 8:30, well before anyone else around me, and by 10 I could barely keep my eyes open. It took three cups of coffee and two Diet Cokes to make it to lunch.

Thankfully, when I got home tonight the hot water had been restored, and with it, my commitment to leave 6:30am for sleeping.

Don't let the bed bugs bite

Ten facts about bed bugs:
1. They are nocturnal blood-feeders that feed mostly at night when their host is asleep.

2. Bed bugs inject a salivary fluid that acts as an anti-coagulant and numbs the area while they are feeding - a process that can take from three to fifteen minutes, during which time the host does not feel the bite.

3. Afterwards, hosts show various reactions, including rash-like patterns, a raised bump, or flat welts and are often extremely itchy.

4. They most often live in beds and bedsheets but can also be found in clothing, draperies, and wood furniture or hiding in cracks or behind pictures on the wall.

5. Because bed bugs are blood-eaters, they do not respond to baits for other insects like ants or roaches.

6. They can go for over a year without feeding.

7. Bed bugs are not known to transmit diseases.

8. An infestation of bed bugs is not a result of an unclean environment.

9. They are most often found in hostels, hotels, apartment buildings and in other areas with a transient population as they can be transferred on furniture, clothing and luggage from one location to another.

10. Bed bugs mate by way of traumatic insemination.

Public transportation

I like taking public transit. It's great people watching and it leaves me time to read, daydream, and check out my new city. Although my commute is about 40 minutes, I'm lucky to live and work very near many transit options. Over the past week I took about 8 different ways to and from work. I like the variety so I think I'll keep mixing up my routes.

Here are a few of the things I noticed on just one day:

- I sat next to a girl wearing earbuds, but I could hear her music as clearly as if they were in my own ears. I was disappointed by her stereotypical female mix: 80s pop rock, John Mayer and Jason Mraz.

- At one stop I saw two men walking and did a double take. It was literally the blind leading the blind. One man had a walking stick (is that what they're called)? and kept tapping the side of the bus as he walked along the edge of the sidewalk. Walking beside him and holding his arm was another blind man with a seeing-eye dog.

- There are periodic announcements on the buses and trains about giving up seats to the elderly and handicapped, not leaning against doors, etc. I was most intrigued by this one: "There is no eating, drinking, gambling, littering or radio play on the bus." Really? Gambling? Was that a big problem? I would have liked to be a fly on the wall during the approval process for that announcement.

Guilty pleasure #4

Yes, it's in an iPod commercial. But it's catchy dammit. Thanks Pat.

Home

I have a new home. And a new (unexpected but welcome) roommate. I was nervous about moving into an apartment sight unseen in a town I didn't know, but it turns out, I love it.

It's the perfect urban neighborhood with a lively mix of characters - older Eastern Europeans who sit on their front steps, the men drinking beer from steins and the women chattering in a language I can't place, young families walking their dogs and letting their kids run ahead of them on the sidewalk, and people like me, transplants from some other place who take the bus downtown to work.

I find comfort and familiarity in the constant throbbing noise. There's always the faint sound of traffic rushing a block away, occasional sirens to break the hum, young boys skateboarding down the sidewalk, and dogs barking warnings from backyards. There are plenty of small corner markets, a well-stocked grocery store, a 24-hour CVS and best of all, neighborhood bars on nearly every block. And if I lean over my back deck, I can see the downtown skyline. It's removed from the frenetic pace of downtown (and there's street parking for my car!) but it's still in the thick of city life. It really is pretty great.

Notes from the road

Less than two hours into my 2,218 mile road trip I noticed a big dent on the right fender of my already abused car. I don't recall how I got it so I assume it had something to do with my final, completely embarassing night of debauchery. Great. As though I needed physical evidence to remind me what an idiot I was.

30 hours in a car alone with my cat, a guitar I can't play and a bag of Chewy Chips Ahoy left me plenty of time to think and observe. And listen. Di wanted me to listen to talk radio on my trip but I was disappointed to find few radio stations along the way (although I'm sure that's due in large part to my radio antenna being snapped off at a Lowe's parking lot a couple years ago). I did manage to catch about 20 minutes of Dr. Laura, during which she berated half a dozen women for undermining their children's happiness, not standing up to their family, and not appreciating the work of their husbands.

Without promising radio options, I spent 13 hours listening to Twilight, a book on CD recommended to me by the enthusiastic young girl at Cracker Barrel in Salt Lake City who insisted I would love it. I was fortunate to be driving during the Harvest Moon through America's heartland, which was really quite beautiful and added moody ambience to the mysterious story about a teenager who falls in love with a vampire (what is with vampire obsession these days anyway?).

I made four stops at rest areas where I was surprised by several things: at each, there was at least one gray-haired couple holding hands and being adorable. Each "modern" stop (their words, not mine) also offered wi-fi access and a computerized update of weather and traffic for long-distance drivers. But the best was that each of the stops also featured "Country Singles," an "information source for the divorced, widowed, never married." I guess it's like personals for the rural, nomadic and lonely? I'm not sure I understand it, but I was amused nonetheless.

I held my breath for most of the drive, hoping my car wouldn't break down. In addition to thanking my battered Sentra for its hard work the past few days, I'd also like to dedicate this trip to Motel 6, the Ruby Tuesday salad bar, and the entire staff and clientele of Iowa 80 - the world's largest truckstop.

I made it.

Actual conversation #1

(via phone)
- Hello? Are you still there?
- Oh I'm sorry, I thought you heard that.
- Heard what?
- The sound of my heart breaking. Again.

Guilty pleasure #3

Hair-epy for the gainfully employed

Di and I both just got jobs (not at the same place sadly, but that's irrelevant to this story).

To prepare for my new life in a new city with new people and a new apartment, I've decided to take a totally unoriginal route and do what many girls do - dye my hair. And to follow through on the cliche, I'm also hoping this hair-epy will somehow rid my life of recent bad guy karma.

Thanks to Di (and late night gchat) for some wisdom on the matter:

i once died my hair super red, then hated it so i died it black, but then it was too black so i wanted some highlights, then when they tried to lift the color from my hair it was pink, then i cut off all of my hair and looked like a lesbian.

oh, and the moral of that hair story is, in case you missed it, is this:

if you dye your hair red, there is a chance you may stop liking sex with men

Get ready...

"A real brain tickler"

The Giant Anteater of South America:

• Their hair is highly flammable; it's not uncommon to find many burned to death after a severe forest fire.
• They may consume 35,000 insects per day
• They smell like peaches (as suggested by Di)

Misery loves (musical) company

Come pick me up
Take me out
Fuck me up
Steal my records
Screw all my friends behind my back
With a smile on your face
And then do it again
I wish you would

Guilty pleasure #2

My friend Pat thinks I have terrible taste in music. How can I deny that, when I get my music from commercials? This lovely tune comes from a spot for Kenmore. I thought it was Josh Rouse but it's really The Silver Seas (also known as The Bees). Who cares? I like it anyway.

Dance with the one who brung you

If someone is nice enough to invite you to a party, don't spend the whole night flirting with everyone else in the hopes of snagging a better option to go home with. It's impolite, disloyal, and well... trashy.

In a social situation this seems like a no-brainer, but the same can be said for business situations too.

Just sayin'.

Guilty pleasure #1

This is the first in what will surely be a huge embarrassing list of guilty pleasures.

I am not a fan of most Levi's ads. I am particularly unimpressed by BBH's new hyper-sexed global campaign "Live Unbuttoned." But for some reason, I stop whatever I'm doing and watch this spot every time I see it.



Levi's Guitar - video powered by Metacafe

Blah blah blog

The other day I was hanging out with my friends Di and Nien. After a lazy lunch of delicious sandwiches (I had the one called "name of girl I'm dating"), I asked if they had ever heard of the term "blah blah blog" to describe the incredible and inevitable banality of 99.9% of blogs. They said no, so I congratulated myself on thinking of it. Maybe I was still on a little high because the cute cashier had drawn a heart on my sandwich wrapper, but I started to think I might just be a clever girl after all.

Then I got home to find every 14 year old in America (and probably some 56-year olds pretending to be 14) has already written about blah blah blogs, blah blah blahgs, and blah blah blah blogs. Damn you teenagers (and pervy fake teens)!

But as the saying goes, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

That's right. I'm a long way from 14, and I'm sure as hell not going to pretend to be in that hellhole of adolescence again, but I am going to try my hand at this blah blah blog thing myself.