As I may have told you before, I am a perpetually single girl.  There are short stints when I have a man by my side, but for the most part I find myself rarely needing a man. I am a very self sufficient woman.  I own a toolbox,  have friends to keep me company, and can buy myself shiny things if I want them…

…but tonight I needed a man.

My current residence is in a one bedroom basement apartment in Seattle.  The other night (total Psycho moment) I was taking a shower and I had that horrible feeling of someone watching me.  I slowly raised my eyes to the upper corner of there shower, and sure enough peeking through the vent was a large nasty-ass spider.  We locked eyes for a second before I shrunk into the opposite corner of the shower where I stood frozen for a good solid minute to I contemplated my next move.

You see, I have always been terrified of spider because I believe them to be uncomfortably intelligent.  They have to be to weave those beautiful intricate webs, I can barely knit scarf.  Growing up when I would find a spider in my house it had to be killed right away.  They say it is more scared of me than I am of it, but I don’t believe it!  I think they were trying to take over my house, which is a reasonable thought.  Have you ever seen a spider egg hatch?  Millions of babies burst out!  A dozen spiders could lay eggs and hatch enough spiders to take over the entire house!  So the every spiders must die.  My only method of killing is to yell “DADDY!” and the next thing I knew it would be dead.

Somehow as I stared up the spider above my shower I didn’t think shouting “DADDY!” would work.  So instead I hurried up and finished my shower and got the hell out of the shower.  As I dried off I kept one eye on the spider, and he was moving, quite quickly down the shower and then back up again.  So I shut off the light and shut the door.

As I sat in bed reading my eyes were drawn to the crack under the bathroom door.  After 10 minutes of attempting to read I knew that if I couldn’t get through a paragraph of my book I would not be able to sleep until the spider was in its tissuie grave.  So I grabbed a sandal and went to tackle the spider.

I turned on the light and he hadn’t moved.  The trouble was he was too high and the tub was too narrow to stand on.  So I grabbed a small plastic bottle and began chucking it at the spider.  Being the uncoordinated girl that I am, I only made him move over a bit… I knew I needed another technique.  So I decided to hoist myself up on the tub hold on to the sink with one hand and a sandal in the other and I wacked that spider good.  He fell into the tub where I proceeded to take his precious life away from him.

Now I know that may seems a little anti-climatic, but this was a big deal for me.  For the first time in my life I was able to do something myself that I had previously relied on a man for.  You would think I would feel like a powerful and independent woman.  But at that moment as I scooped up the spider with a tissue I wanted a man more than ever.  I HATED having to kill that thing myself, my heart was racing and my knees were weak.

Then again, I guess being independent isn’t easy, otherwise everyone would be alone.  If the only reason I “need” a man is to kill my spiders, I guess I’m doing okay.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

As you may or may not know, I am a procrastinator.  Personally I find this surprising because, deep down at my core, I am a major planner.  I like to plan out every detail of an event before it occurs.  If I’m driving somewhere I’ve never been before I plan out the exact route and an alternate route just in case Google Maps is behind the times.

So how can a planner, like myself, be a procrastinator?  The answer is, I plan my procrastinating.  I intentionally put off for tomorrow what I can do today.  Take for example, right now.  I am currently procrastinating while writing a blog about procrastinating.  I have a school project to complete, it’s almost done, but I can’t bring myself to finish it because I still have the rest of the night to work on it.  It’s too early for me to be done with it.

Even though I understood how I procrastinate I was puzzled as to why I do it, then it hit me.  By putting off my tasks I am avoiding my biggest fear: BOREDOM.  I can’t possibly be bored if I have something else I should be doing.  Anytime I think to myself, “I’m bored” I hear my mother’s voice in my head, “Only boring people are bored.”   Even though, logically,  I know boredom does not mean I’m boring, it just means I’m feeling too lazy to stir up some trouble, it still frightens me.

I may be an expert procrastinator, but I still tend to find myself in a pickle from time to time.  I flub up somehow and am left scrambling at the last-minute.  I do this often enough that I am even dreaming about it.  The other night I had a dream I was throwing a party for my friends because aliens were going to come and visit me.  I had grand plans for these aliens and I thought I was doing fine on time so I went and goofed off with my buddies.  The next I knew my cooking wasn’t done and I ran out of time so I couldn’t curl my hair for the aliens.

I believe that people can change… but only if they really want to change.  Apparently I don’t want to change because I’m sitting here writing this blog.  Then again perhaps procrastinating is my way to keep my life exciting.  After all, every great action movie has a ticking clock.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

I was on my way home today I was stuck at a red light.  It was a long red light so I did what most people do and read the bumper stickers of the car in front of me.  This person had one large sticker that went across the trunk of the car.  It read:

“Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons to them you are a crunchy treat to eat with ketchup.“

I had to read it at least twice because the first time I didn’t fully understand it.  Three questions immediately came into my head: “Dragons don’t exist, so why would someone feel the need to advise others not to meddle in their affairs?”,  “Even if dragons did exist what affairs do they have that humans would meddle in?”, and “Would dragons even like ketchup?”

Another thing that puzzled me about the bumper sticker was that the driver felt that they needed to display this “dragon tidbit” with the rest of the word.  This got me thinking about other bumper stickers I have seen.  Why do people feel the need to display a picture of Calvin pissing on the Chevy logo?  Apparently they really hate Chevy, but why do they need to convey that information with the rest of the world?

When I was in high school I felt the need to display my love of punk rock* bands to the world by putting their stickers on my car.  But I did that because part of being punk rock* is incorporating it into every aspect of your life, car included.  I don’t really think ‘dragon loving” and “Chevy hating” are that way… how often do you see someone with “Chevy hating” shoes on or a “dragon loving” hair style.

I feel there are more constructive stickers people could put on their car, such as a large picture of themselves.  I strongly believe this would cut down on road rage.  When I drive I yell a lot to myself.  Often if someone is driving slow I will yell at them (with my windows rolled up so they can’t hear), but I often find that when I pass them and realize it is a grandma driving I immediately forgive them and my blood pressure decreases.  I strongly believe drivers would get less mad at me because when they saw my picture and realized I was a blond they would approach me with caution and not be surprised when I cut them off.

Then again, this idea could get a little dangerous, after all what if they used drivers licenses pictures.  Those pictures might be worse to look at than Calvin’s obscene urinating.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

*the term “punk rock” is used loosely.  At the age of 16 Blink 182 and Good Charlotte were considered “punk rock” to me.

This week I will be turning 28 and I’m a little intimidated by 28.  It’s not that I’m getting closer to 30 (that was last year’s issue) but the intimidation is because 28 has to be a good year because 28 is my lucky number.

I can’t exactly explain why I chose 28 as my lucky number, I believe lucky numbers choose you.  I’ve known that 28 was it for me since the 7^th grade.  You see the 7^th grade was when I had my first major crush, Joey Cora of the Seattle Mariners, #28.  Not only did I know immediately that Joey Cora and I were to be married but that from here on out 28 would be my lucky number.

To tell you the truth I have no evidence that 28 is really my lucky number because I’m not a lucky person.  That doesn’t mean I am unlucky, I am just void of luck.  But I’ve always known it deep down that 28 meant something to me and would be meaningful number in my life.

So now, here I am on the precipice of turning 28 and filled with fear.  What if 28 is a year like any other year, or even worse, what if 28 is just like 27?  Ever since the 7^th grade I’ve felt that something would happen to me when I turned 28, I would have it all figured out and might finally become an adult.  Right now at 27 I am far from that goal, I live with my parents, have no job, and am spending my days glued to my computer.  I feel as though I will never be an adult and never have it all figured out.

Then again do I really want to have it all figured out?  Does anyone really have it figured out?  Also if I figure it all out then life ceases to become interesting.  So maybe 28 can be a magical year by allowing some mystery to remain in my life.  Maybe the most amazing thing 28 can do for me is to be just like all the other years.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

Have you ever dated someone and broken up with them and years later when reflecting on that relationship wondered why you broke up with them in the first place?  Then one day, because you’re feeling a little lonely give that person a call and they pick up.  You end up hanging out with them and think you may have been crazy for breaking up with them in the first place.  That’s when  they do something awful and you are reminded you made the right choice the first time.  Has that ever happened to you?

Personally this has never happened to me with an actual person, but this is how I am feeling in my current relationship with Seattle.  We’ve been hanging out (I say “hanging out” because we’re not very serious, I’m actually living in a suburb of Seattle) for a few months now.  At first everything was wonderful, Seattle was beautiful and sunny and green.  I was able to enjoy the city the same way I enjoyed New York, with Sunday Fundays, walks in the park, and exploring dive bars.

Lately though, it hasn’t been the same.  It’s as if Seattle has grow too comfortable with me and stopped courting me.  Now he is constantly grumpy and angry and as a result I have grown constantly grumpy and angry.  For almost four weeks now it has done nothing by rain and it’s the second week of June.  This is a little excessive even for Seattle standards!  I did not sign up for this when I moved here.  Yes, it does rain in Seattle, but the constant rain is just a myth we tell people to keep the population down.

Since the weather has been so cold for so long I’ve lost track of the time of year.  Several times I would be getting ready in the morning, putting on my cozy sweater and socks, and think to myself, “Oh yay, Christmas is almost here!  I can’t wait for Rudolf!”  Then it would occur to me that it is June and I still have 6 months until I can break out the mistletoe.

I understand that we all go through tough times of depression but I don’t know how much longer I can deal with Seattle’s mood swings.  Once or twice we would have a beautiful afternoon and I would think, “Oh I guess spring has arrived.”  Then a few hours later it would be pouring rain…

I now catch myself day dreaming of wearing sundresses and perched on a hill in Central Park  wondering if I made the right choice in breaking up with New York.  I long for its hot sticky days and warm nights, but if I had that would I be happy?  Perhaps I would find myself longing for the soggy side of the fence.

Hugs and Kisses Till Next Time!

I was on the subway the other day and accompanying me in my car was an angry crazy man.  Not an unusual sight but annoying none the less.  This particular crazy was very angry and yelling at all the immigrants on the train, scorning them because they can’t have passports…

It wasn’t what this man was saying that upset me (a crazy’s opinion can never be taken seriously) but it was his tone.  He was so angry that he was sending negative vibes all though the train.  Then a solution hit me!  Perhaps this man would not be so angry if there was a dance party on the train.  Wouldn’t it be ideal if in every car all the time there was music playing and people dancing along.  I am not suggesting that subway cars be turned into a club with disco balls and flashing lights, but a mellow dance party where people can shake their groove thang on their way to Union Square or Queens.  It would play a wide variety of music and people could either bop along in their seats or shake it in the middle of the car.  If MTA wants to increase ridership this is the way to do it.

As this idea began to form in my mind I shared it with many of my friends and almost none of them agreed with me.  They decided this would not be possible because not everyone enjoys dancing and there would be too many disagreements over the music.

This started me thinking: the world would be much better if everyone loved dancing as much as I do.  When I dance my problems melt away and all that matters is shaking my booty.  Unfortunately we live in a world where much of the population (mostly white males) feel self-conscious while dancing and as a result shy away from it.

This might be because historically, back in the 17th century,  “white” dancing was rigid, elaborate, and uniform.  Make one false move and you would throw off the entire group, not fun for anyone.  Instead, if everyone cut loose and danced how they felt like dancing the atmosphere would be much more relaxed with a lot less tension.  If this was the case then a dance party would have the ability to solve any major world problem.

Example:  The Cuban Missile Crisis.  Instead of playing chicken with nuclear missiles the US and USSR should have danced it out to a little Motown.  Everyone would have been in a more chipper mood and not in the mood to kills thousands of people.  And let’s be honest, the Russians would benefit from a good dance party; it would warm them up!

Perhaps the next time I’m on the subway I’ll put my theory to work.  When I see conflict occurring I’ll jump up and start to dance.  Though… I’m not too sure if everyone else would join in considering I would be the only one who could hear my music from my ipod.  Perhaps my dancing would end up making everyone around me uncomfortable, the opposite reaction I was going for.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

For the past three years I have been in a roller coaster relationship, many highs and even more lows.  One day he would greet me with warm open arms and the next he would turn a cold shoulder and not even acknowledge my existence.  So, in order to keep the little sanity and prevent my heart from hardening I am breaking up with New York City and moving on to greener pastures (literally).   Over the past nine years I’ve broken up with quite a few cities and none of them have treated me as poorly as New York.

First there was Seattle, the city I had the privilege of growing up near.  Many may see Seattle as moody with its rainy weather but I see Seattle as clever with a good sense of humor.  By hiding in the clouds it keeps wannabe Seattlites away, leaving only those who truly love the city and can see its beauty through the misty rain.  When I left we remained friends and anytime I returned to visit it treated me warmly.

Next came my biggest mistake, Los Angeles.  We had a short relationship, only about a year and half and both of us were never really committed to one another.  To Los Angeles I was just another notch on its smoggy bedpost.  By settling in Azusa I saw its flaws right away.  Surrounded by fast food restaurants, cheap strip malls, and crowded freeways there was no deception between us.  When I did leave, LA couldn’t care less because he never invested anything into our relationship.

Next there was San Francisco.  I fell hard for San Francisco right away.  He was beautiful with his sunshine and romantic fog, but also small enough to make me feel like I really mattered to him.  But as the four years passed my eyes began to wander.  I soon discovered there were bigger and better things out there and San Francisco understood this.  He knew that I need something bigger than he could offer, so he let me go.

And not it is time to say farewell to New York and he is not taking it well.  Since the moment I decided to leave a few months ago New York has been ruthless.  It seems I am always just barely missing the train and it never fails to rains when I forget my umbrella.  The streets seem to be more crowded than usual, as if he is saying, “Go ahead and leave.  I won’t even miss you!”

Now that’s just mean… but that’s also New York.  I came to him because I knew he would be ruthless and he was, and I loved him for it.  But he wore me out.  Now I’m returning to a more stable relationship, Seattle.  I’m eager to see what kind of trouble the Emerald City and I will stir up, with all of the trees, mountains, and rain I’m sure it’s going to be good.  In the immortal words of Gladys Knights and the Pips, “I’m going back to find a simpler place and time.”

Hugs and kisses till next time!

Gladys Knight and The Pips

I was watching the news today and normally the news makes me angry, but today it made me extra angry and I wasn’t sure why.  As I continued to watch I began noticing that it wasn’t the news itself that was evoking my spurts of anger but rather it was the commercials.  Particularly the commercials for prescription drugs.

I have noticed lately more and more ads for prescription drugs on the airwaves, and I see this causing more and more problems in our society.  Isn’t the purpose of creating a prescription drug to help rid society of sickness.  But by advertising drugs excessively a number of unexpected side effects are occurring.  Here are just a few:

Anxiety:  “Distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune.”  The ads introduce the public to diseases they never even knew about and as a result get they wondering if they have the disease and just don’t know it.

Hypochondria: “An excessive preoccupation with one’s health, usually focusing on some particular symptom.”  After hearing a list of symptoms people start to imagine they have said symptoms.  An example of this is Restless Leg Syndrome, and after working eight hours at an office desk most everyone will think they have it.

Depression: “A combination of symptoms that interfere with a person’s ability to work, sleep, study, eat, and enjoy once-pleasurable activities.”  This is caused by the mere thought of getting older.  According to the commercials, our bones will fall apart, we will have to pee all the time, we won’t be able to get it up, we will have constant heartburn, and are all doomed to be depressed.

After careful analysis I realized the prescription drug industry is a lot more devious than I originally thought.  On the surface it seems the purpose of their ads are to keep people informed about new products when really their ads alone create a need for their product.  Very tricky!

But I have out smarted the drug industry.  Instead of rushing out to buy drugs to help ease the above symptoms I’ll just stop watching the news.  It is true what they say, ignorance is bliss.  But then again who will inform me when the next H1N1 breakout hits?

Hugs and kisses till next time!

**All definitions are accurate because I found them on the internet– WebMD to be precise.

Who ever invented Speed Dating is a genius.  It is so logical and here’s why:  if you end up going out on a blind date or even a set up from a dating website you are obligated to spend an entire night with them.  While with speed dating you get your first impression with someone and if it’s good then you can go out with them again and if it’s not then it is over in a few minutes.  Once again New York efficiently impresses me again.

The other night I had my first experience with this unusual social gathering and I have to admit it was a good time.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept of speed dating let me provide you with a brief summery of the evening.

My girls and I (yes we came as a gaggle of girls, all five of us) and signed in and then proceeded to the bar for some liquid courage.  After we received our drinks and properly surveyed the land we went back to the area of the bar roped off for the event.  Each of us were then given a number on a piece of paper with a grid on it for us to write down notes judging our dates.  At this point a gentleman sat down across from me and we started to chat.  Unfortunately this was not my first date.  The gong (yes it was a gong) sounded and the rules were given then the gentleman sitting across from me had to move, he would be my last date.  So I waited for my next date to show up… he never showed.  I paid $35 to be stood up on my first date.  Even though it wasn’t anyone’s fault, because I am a girl my feelings were hurt a little.  Good thing the Yankee’s game was on right in front of me, unfortunately they were losing to Toronto.  Finally after four minutes of twirling my hair and cursing the Canadians the gong sounded and my first date of the evening sat down.   This pattern continued for about six other dates and then we were given a break to get more alcohol and fried cheese.  The gong summoned us again and we went back to our table for about seven more dates.  After our last date the ladies and I departed to another bar where we could rehash about the event and discuss any soul mates we discovered.

When we got home there was an email waiting for me to choose who I wanted to see again.  My gfs all chose everyone so that they would be able to see how many people chose them.  But me, being the conservative, only picked one person.  I didn’t want to lead anyone on!  My “chosen person” did chose me but I suspect he chose everyone because he did chose all my buddies and I haven’t received an email from him.  Don’t worry, I’m not disappointed because he isn’t my soul mate.

Looking back on the event I never expected to find someone I could really date, the chances are just too slim.  But I do prefer speed dating to online dating.  I’m a believer in “the spark”.  Everyone I’ve ever dated I’ve had “the spark” with immediately after meeting them.  While they all are very different on paper the connection I had with most of them is similar and that isn’t something you can convey over the internet.

So the lingering question is “Will I speed date again?”  I think the answer is yes.  If anything it gave me the opportunity to brush up on my flirting (I’ve been told I’m a horrible flirt.)  I didn’t meet my match, but I did meet some interesting characters, a conceded snaggle tooth, a man who doesn’t know he is gay, and a rude neuro oncologist from SF (which only supports my claim that San Franciscans are not my people).

Then again maybe I will meet my match speed dating.  After all it is full of characters and who ever I end up with will have to be a character to keep up with me.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

I’m currently in my room listening to a conversation my roommates are having in the living room.  They are talking about their favorite food.  Immediately when the question pops up I shout out “Ice cream!”.  No response.  Then I hear one of my roommates say, “I don’t know what my favorite food is…”  All of them had to think for a few minutes before coming up with an answer.

Now it wasn’t their answers that baffled me (although cashews and zuchinni were a bit odd) it was the fact that they didn’t know.  “What’s your favorite food?” is a common question, so I have a top three waiting in the wings.  Anytime I try a new food I contemplate on whether I have to change my top three.

It disappoints me that I often find myself in this situation, you ask someone their favorite ___ and they have no answer.  Case and point:  Movies.  Now I work in the entertainment industry so I am surrounded by people who know and love movies.  Also we constantly judge one another on their movie taste, so it is only natural that one would have at least their top three decided.  But alas, I am constantly let down by my peers.  Often the answer is, “I just like so many different types, I can’t pick just one.”   Bullshit.  You can at least widdle it down to a top three, movies that you make you feel good, that you enjoy watching over and over and adequately  portray who you are as a person.

The type of things people enjoy tells a lot about a person.  For example, my top three books (in no particular order):

• Jurassic Park - Dinosaurs are cool.  Michael Crichton can’t write a beautiful sentence to save his life but he can tell and inventive and entertaining story.  What this says about me:  I have no shame in bad fiction, like to be entertained, and appreciate original ideas.
• Down and Out In Paris And London – It’s an amusing story filled with bazaar characters and brings me into the world of Paris and London in the 1900s.  What this says about me: I like to read the classics and love good obscure characters.
• In Cold Blood – A haunting story that gets inside the minds of two brutal killers and finds the humanity in the most despicable characters.  What this says about me:  I have a dark side.

It surprises me that people don’t think of these thing, but spend so much time thinking about their image.  I mean aren’t your favorites part of your image?  Just like your image it doesn’t define you completely, but it does show part of who you are.  It says more about you than your jeans or curly hair, yet people rarely take the time to think about these things.

Then again, I do realize that I am an over thinker and an over-planner, so maybe I’m the only one who judges people on these things.  Maybe I need to change that, and not be as prepared for these questions… really what does my planning say about my image?

Hugs and kisses till next time!