So it was recently brought to my attention that I talk with my mouth full. Like all the time. Why? Obviously it's not intentional, maybe I have plenty to say that just can't wait. Plus I've never claimed to be all that lady-like, which I think is part of my charm.
Among friends, I've been known to belch, cuss, drink beer, talk trash, say that's what he said. Naturally, I play sports but I never say it's just a game, I'm super competitive and you'd better be good if you're on my team even if it's charades or so-help-me-god... Anyway. How have I never noticed this talking w/ mouth full habit before? And I love how my boyfriend just now points this out after 2 years. Thanks babe! Now that I know, do I change it or at least hope I remember to swallow my food first in front of a client? Did my mom forget to correct me for that growing up? I remember the elbows on the table and the wooden spoon just in case we forgot. Hmmm...
Well after 28 years of a bad habit, what do you do? I tell you what. If it's not hurting anyone, offending anyone, and I'm not spitting on you at dinner, then Get.Over.It. We all have little annoying things that people shouldn't do at our age. Plus it's not like I'm blowing my nose on the cloth napkin (although I hear that's ok). Or getting sloshed and puking on the side of your house. Or belching at work. Ever!
So I guess if you have a problem w/ my eating habits, talking habits, drinking habits, or anything else I do of the habitual nature, then please exit stage left and have a nice day! Otherwise, I'll give you a mouthful to complain about... that's what he said.
***Feel free to share your bad habits in the comments! This post is for C. Starr who enables my habits on a weekly basis. Thanks for putting up with me!***
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
September 11, 2001
I was 20 years old when it happened. It was September and I'd usually be finishing up my summer job and heading back to school on the Central Coast of California. That weekend, however, I was visiting my friend Lauren in Philadelphia with a couple other girlfriends from high school. I had originally planned on flying out on Sunday the 9th, but since my dad worked for the airlines and I had a stand-by ticket, I stayed a couple extra days and intended to fly out around 1:30 on tuesday.
I awoke that morning to Lauren panicking from the front room. She had turned on the TV just as the first plane hit. I sat in her living room as the 2nd plane hit and was completely stunned. The first thing I did after I snapped out of it was pick up the phone to call my parents, but I couldn't. They were travelling to Europe and hadn't landed yet.
We listened to the news as the airplanes were grounded, and knowing it would be a week before I would be able to fly stand-by anywhere let alone to San Francisco, I figured i would have to find another way to get home. Once I finally got a hold of my parents, and we quickly went over the few options I had, we settled on the only available option at the time - taking a Greyhound bus across the country. At that time (or any time), riding the greyhound for 3 days wasn't ideal, but it was the fastest and cheapet ticket off the East Coast, and so I hurried down to the station in downtown Philly and got in line that afternoon.
It was unlike anything I've ever seen. Families, mobs of people, the poor and affluent, filled the greyhound station in a line that wrapped the entire station twice. I boarded the first bus around 6:00 and we left and headed towards Pittsburg. That station was no different than Philly, except it was near where those brave passengers diverted a greater national disaster and crashed the plane destined for the Pentagon. Anxiety gripped this bus's passengers, and everyone sat silent as our nation held its breath. I can't really describe what I experienced, as it was different for everyone on that day. But as we left Pennsylvania, the passengers breathed a little easier the further away from the coast we traveled.
Around the Pittsburg station I discovered (or was discovered by) a very nice older couple who were also travelling to San Francisco. I'll call them the Johnsons, a husband and wife in their late 50s/early 60s. They heard that my parents were out of the country, and that I was travelling alone. Since they had a daughter about my age, they told me they would look out for me, and I thanked them and sat near them on the next bus.
What happened next could only be described as my body's self defense mechanism. In dealing with trauma, sometimes people's minds block things out unconsciously, well mine tells me to go to sleep. And so I slept... for the next 2 days of the 3-day trip. The Johnsons awoke me when it was time to transfer buses, I stood with them in line and once I sat down again, fell immediately asleep. While the other passengers traded stories and got to know each other, I completely checked out. I didn't wake up, in fact, until Cheyenne, Wyoming. The passengers laughed and said "we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up." The last 1100 miles of that trip is a blur. I remember crossing into California, and stopping in the Sacramento greyhound (only a couple miles from where I live today), and finally arriving in San Francisco where I was greeted by my sister and niece, then only a few months old.
It was an emotional goodbye, to the Johnsons. Thinking back on the 3 days they spent with me, they welcomed me into their hearts, protected me from imminent danger (hello... seedy middle america greyhound stations = no place for my petite, very cute butt!), and gave me a glimmer of hope in my anxiety.
We exchanged addresses that day, and I've since sent them a couple of letters, usually on the eve of the 9/11 anniversary. I am forever changed by the events of that tragedy, and because I truly believe they were my guardian angels. Half the reason I wrote them was to be sure they actually existed and I didn't dream it! They wrote back each time, of course, as kind people usually do. I truly can't thank them enough for what they did, and how their kindness still resonates with me today, as does the courage and bravery of those Americans who gave their lives that day and since to protect our freedom.
I awoke that morning to Lauren panicking from the front room. She had turned on the TV just as the first plane hit. I sat in her living room as the 2nd plane hit and was completely stunned. The first thing I did after I snapped out of it was pick up the phone to call my parents, but I couldn't. They were travelling to Europe and hadn't landed yet.
We listened to the news as the airplanes were grounded, and knowing it would be a week before I would be able to fly stand-by anywhere let alone to San Francisco, I figured i would have to find another way to get home. Once I finally got a hold of my parents, and we quickly went over the few options I had, we settled on the only available option at the time - taking a Greyhound bus across the country. At that time (or any time), riding the greyhound for 3 days wasn't ideal, but it was the fastest and cheapet ticket off the East Coast, and so I hurried down to the station in downtown Philly and got in line that afternoon.
It was unlike anything I've ever seen. Families, mobs of people, the poor and affluent, filled the greyhound station in a line that wrapped the entire station twice. I boarded the first bus around 6:00 and we left and headed towards Pittsburg. That station was no different than Philly, except it was near where those brave passengers diverted a greater national disaster and crashed the plane destined for the Pentagon. Anxiety gripped this bus's passengers, and everyone sat silent as our nation held its breath. I can't really describe what I experienced, as it was different for everyone on that day. But as we left Pennsylvania, the passengers breathed a little easier the further away from the coast we traveled.
Around the Pittsburg station I discovered (or was discovered by) a very nice older couple who were also travelling to San Francisco. I'll call them the Johnsons, a husband and wife in their late 50s/early 60s. They heard that my parents were out of the country, and that I was travelling alone. Since they had a daughter about my age, they told me they would look out for me, and I thanked them and sat near them on the next bus.
What happened next could only be described as my body's self defense mechanism. In dealing with trauma, sometimes people's minds block things out unconsciously, well mine tells me to go to sleep. And so I slept... for the next 2 days of the 3-day trip. The Johnsons awoke me when it was time to transfer buses, I stood with them in line and once I sat down again, fell immediately asleep. While the other passengers traded stories and got to know each other, I completely checked out. I didn't wake up, in fact, until Cheyenne, Wyoming. The passengers laughed and said "we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up." The last 1100 miles of that trip is a blur. I remember crossing into California, and stopping in the Sacramento greyhound (only a couple miles from where I live today), and finally arriving in San Francisco where I was greeted by my sister and niece, then only a few months old.
It was an emotional goodbye, to the Johnsons. Thinking back on the 3 days they spent with me, they welcomed me into their hearts, protected me from imminent danger (hello... seedy middle america greyhound stations = no place for my petite, very cute butt!), and gave me a glimmer of hope in my anxiety.
We exchanged addresses that day, and I've since sent them a couple of letters, usually on the eve of the 9/11 anniversary. I am forever changed by the events of that tragedy, and because I truly believe they were my guardian angels. Half the reason I wrote them was to be sure they actually existed and I didn't dream it! They wrote back each time, of course, as kind people usually do. I truly can't thank them enough for what they did, and how their kindness still resonates with me today, as does the courage and bravery of those Americans who gave their lives that day and since to protect our freedom.
Monday, August 31, 2009
I've decided...
I wanna be the kind of person who sends snail mail. what ever happened to people using regular mail? USPS has been wondering that for the past few years since electronic billing and e-cards took hold. Email has destroyed so much of the personal interaction that used to build communities and even force real-time conversations in order to solve problems at work. Now it's all about the "paper trail" and proper documentation, CCing all the important people who feel entitled to be kept in the loop, or often times just to CYA (cover your a--). We've all been guilty of sending an email instead of walking 10 feet down the hall and getting a quick answer.
Avoiding the sense of invading someone's office space with our questions, our personalities, we confine ourselves to the same 4 walls in the comforting, familiar presence of our computer and ipod. side note... since when is it ok to walk the halls at work with headphones? No, your headphones do not preclude you from the generic hello or head nod in the hallway. Your music is not that good, trust me.
Well last month I successfully sent out 4 pieces of mail: birthday cards, a birthday gift, and a just because mailing. I also gave a card to a co-worker whose wife has cancer. Sometimes you don't need a reason or an occasion to help brighten someone's day. Or you want to make someone feel better but you don't know what to say. My dad recently told me 'when you speak from the heart, it can never come out wrong'. Good advice, Dad!
And then this month sent me for a crazy loop and now I don't know which way is up. The boyfriend and I moved. Then his teenage kids came to visit for the month. Yup, teenage and yes, kids plural. Had a housewarming party (oops... meant to mail out invitations, ended up emailing a few people). Still haven't sent out our change of address. In other words... the whole plan went to HELL. So yeah, I still want to be the kind of person who sends snail mail. I'm workin on it. But first I gotta find those stamps.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Jewelry Parties.
How did i not know about these before. I knew about tupperware parties, I sat through many as a child and reveled in finding all the right lids that went with the dishes, sorted by letter. Remember those?! It was a fun game for me. Okay, who am I kidding, it still is today.
Back to the best invention ever. A party where the sole purpose is to gather with other ladies and eat and drink while a much more fashion-inclined person than myself shows me what kind of jewelry to wear and what the latest trends are and I don't have to pretend to know what a lobster claw clasp is or buy several things at once because I have no idea how to choose one thing to go with my latest impulse buy? Hmmm... can there please be a shoe party in my near future? Where I can try on shoes without that ridiculous nylon sock thingy or have to wait forever for the old guy to come from the back with my size 7.5s? Or be seen heading straight to the clearance aisle because - it's a recession y'all... and I'm cheap.
Okay so a minor drawback to the jewelry party is having to wait a few weeks for your purchases. Kinda takes the excitement outta the experience when all I have to show for $100 is a bloated belly and wine lips. Wait... that's most weekend evenings for me. Doh!
Back to the best invention ever. A party where the sole purpose is to gather with other ladies and eat and drink while a much more fashion-inclined person than myself shows me what kind of jewelry to wear and what the latest trends are and I don't have to pretend to know what a lobster claw clasp is or buy several things at once because I have no idea how to choose one thing to go with my latest impulse buy? Hmmm... can there please be a shoe party in my near future? Where I can try on shoes without that ridiculous nylon sock thingy or have to wait forever for the old guy to come from the back with my size 7.5s? Or be seen heading straight to the clearance aisle because - it's a recession y'all... and I'm cheap.
Okay so a minor drawback to the jewelry party is having to wait a few weeks for your purchases. Kinda takes the excitement outta the experience when all I have to show for $100 is a bloated belly and wine lips. Wait... that's most weekend evenings for me. Doh!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Happy July
On the 28th of July of my 28th year, I figured I should squeeze in a few minutes to post on some of the new haps. It's been a very big month for me. My birthday is always time to celebrate, and celebrate I did with friends and family for an entire week. My dad came and visited, and it helped me realize i have one of the coolest dads ever. He's not your typical dad: tacky (rarely), active (always), social (extremely). He's the kind of guy you can take anywhere and find a way to have some fun. We spent my birthday weekend having a nice dinner, a few drinks out with my friends, lots of good conversation, and a nice trip down some class II rapids on the South Fork of the American River. Yup, just a leisurly stroll down some (flip out of the boat and lose your valuables and lucky if you don't get bruised/scraped by rocks) nice rapids. Lucikily we all survived. I'm grateful, though, for my dad and the relationship that we have. I'm glad that I'm so much like him, and I'm really glad he and the boyfriend get along fairly well for 2 people with very strong personalities (read stubborn).
We also moved on July 24th (see June post) across the Sacramento River to a cute, spacious house in West Sac. I still feel like I'm only visiting someone else's really cool house. Although it's only a rental, I still worked my butt off to get to the point where I could live where I wanted, in a house that I hand picked because I deserve to. I haven't strayed from my personal goals, I haven't stopped working towards the next level. I've accomplished a lot for myself in the last 10 years out of high school. This one is for me. For us. Because I deserve it.
3 days ago I found out that I passed my PE exam. It's been something I've worked for for the better part of 2 years. Taking classes, studying nights and weekends, gaining weight from so much sitting! And it's all paid off with a title. Not that it means much to my worklife now, but it does mean I'm no longer playing in the minors. It's all about the big leagues now. To wear that title of professional engineer will raise me to the next level (and hopefully result in a raise of another sort), and I will eventually take the increased responsibility and continue to work my butt off in an industry whose main purpose is to improve the quality of life for the public. In fact 75% of my time is spent in something related to my improving myself to be a better person, better engineer, and a better leader.
Now that the month is coming to a close, I have pretty high hopes for August (my least fave month due to no holidays, and 100+ degree weather). Not that I would be disappointed if it were less than special, I had a pretty awesome July. Plus I got these sent to me at work today from my best friend, Libby, congratulating me on my PE. I know, amazing right? I'm lucky to have such a great friend, the best friend a girl can have.
Friday, June 19, 2009
So Long South Natomas
My commute is currently about 5 minutes. Sometimes 7 when I try to avoid 1 of the 4 stoplights and get stuck behind a car that doesn't realize it can TURN RIGHT on a RED. Adam Carolla had a hilarious rant about right-turn-on-red drivers, oh how I miss that show. Anyway back to the commute. 7 minutes, give or take. This happens to be the ONLY consolation for living and working in the ghetto that is South Natomas, a community in the northwest area of Sacramento. We all know crime is everywhere, especially in Sac. But in the 1 year I've lived in this area we've had a burglary at my office and several incidences of crime at my apartment complex including my own vehicle, my only possession worth anything, being vandalized. TWICE. Furthermore w/ several people crammed into one complex trying to save on rent, there are never any open parking spaces for ourselves or our guests forcing some to designate their own parking spaces which may or may not result in a very expensive impound fee. mother#*&%ing tow companies.
These are among a few of the many reasons why we desperately want to leave this area w/out having to find jobs in the bay area or elsewhere. After scouring craigs' for about a month, we opted for a walk-thru in a couple houses on the outskirts of town. 30-40 minute commute for a better living situation is entirely worth it, I now realize. But we got extremely lucky and found an adorable, remodeled 1920's house in west sacramento, in a unique area where the old homes share the neighborhood with a skyscraper and a pyramid building. The house for me defines maturity, and is the first place I've ever been excited to live in. Instead of settling for the housing that was just what I could afford, instead of getting a roomate to share expenses, I am choosing this place because it suits me. And I am feeling incredibly privileged to have the option in such a rough economy. I only wish the move-in date were sooner than 1 month from now! I'm so excited I want to drive by every day and sneak pictures from my iphone to swoon over all night. I want to sleep on its vintage little porch. I will actually have a porch! Yes... you could say I have a bit of a crush on this house.
One of the best parts about moving is no longer subscribing to the South Natomas police crime blog, although I really do have to hand it to the police for their impressive take-downs. Go female cops btw... I could never do that job. And not to say there won't be crime in my new neighborhood, but I'm willing to bet I won't be awakened by arrests outside my bedroom window, gunshots, or ghetto birds. Llookin forward to that! Especially now that it's summer and ghetto teens have nothing better to do than burglarize people's cars. So long foolio's! Hah.
While my work situation won't change for a while and regretfully I won't be able to avoid this area between 8 and 5pm Mon-Fri, how sweet it will be to drive away from it every day across the river to a welcoming neighborhood where I will love my neighbors, they'll love me, and I'll park whereever I damn well please.
These are among a few of the many reasons why we desperately want to leave this area w/out having to find jobs in the bay area or elsewhere. After scouring craigs' for about a month, we opted for a walk-thru in a couple houses on the outskirts of town. 30-40 minute commute for a better living situation is entirely worth it, I now realize. But we got extremely lucky and found an adorable, remodeled 1920's house in west sacramento, in a unique area where the old homes share the neighborhood with a skyscraper and a pyramid building. The house for me defines maturity, and is the first place I've ever been excited to live in. Instead of settling for the housing that was just what I could afford, instead of getting a roomate to share expenses, I am choosing this place because it suits me. And I am feeling incredibly privileged to have the option in such a rough economy. I only wish the move-in date were sooner than 1 month from now! I'm so excited I want to drive by every day and sneak pictures from my iphone to swoon over all night. I want to sleep on its vintage little porch. I will actually have a porch! Yes... you could say I have a bit of a crush on this house.
One of the best parts about moving is no longer subscribing to the South Natomas police crime blog, although I really do have to hand it to the police for their impressive take-downs. Go female cops btw... I could never do that job. And not to say there won't be crime in my new neighborhood, but I'm willing to bet I won't be awakened by arrests outside my bedroom window, gunshots, or ghetto birds. Llookin forward to that! Especially now that it's summer and ghetto teens have nothing better to do than burglarize people's cars. So long foolio's! Hah.
While my work situation won't change for a while and regretfully I won't be able to avoid this area between 8 and 5pm Mon-Fri, how sweet it will be to drive away from it every day across the river to a welcoming neighborhood where I will love my neighbors, they'll love me, and I'll park whereever I damn well please.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I hate it when i...
...run into someone i friended on myspace/FB and i dont really know them but they think they know me and it makes for a very awkward eye contact/pause/just kidding keep moving moment. If this has never happened to you, Congratulations. You've avoided one of those rare (why did i wake up late and yet HAVE to have a cup of joe, making my trip 15 minutes later in the morning than usual) super cool moments of Adulthood.
Because first off, the eye contact is accidental, and then you realize they're looking back at you, and then you think for about 3 seconds 'do i know him/her? does he know me? god where do i know...OHHHHHHH...dammit" and now it's 3.5 seconds into the eye contact and you quickly divert your eyes because a Friend Request accept is clearly not the same thing as an in-person, 2-way street, introduction. I'm the kind of person who rejects 95% of friend requests from strangers, too. Commenting on my friends' wall, for example, is not an invitation for you to "Friend" me, for what, to say 'yo.. nice comment.. what's up' And the remaining 5% seem perfectly harmless to add because 1) I am taken and pics of boyfriend and blog posts of relationship are enough evidence...and 2) I never think i'll actually SEE them around town!!!
There is absolutely no way to get around this awkwardness other than to hope they're still not staring when you grab your latte and bolt through the emergency exit. And if they still think it's ok to email on myspace/FB later and say 'hey, was that you I ran into at starbucks?' then, you know, probably safe to just reject all 100% of strangers to save yourself from any of the above mentioned awkward occurances and then you'll never have to forfeit your favorite coffee shop with the only barista in town who knows how to properly steam soymilk.
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