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.