la fromage de la belle france

Something trivially negative happened to me today while I was on my way to a volunteer to replant some native species to the Bay Area. I haven't started working and I'm bored out of my mind, ok? Back to my negative triviality. At the time I thought I was gonna die, as is the normal reaction to most incidents in urban areas of Oakland, but looking back at it I can squeeze out a nervous chuckle. If my coping skills are what I think they are, later tonight I will be laughing at the whole thing. Scared out of my wits, crying and hyperventilating I cancelled the plant reintroduction, drove home and stuffed myself with every comfort carbohydrate that I could find in my fridge and pantry, and those were:
1) bread with oil and balsamic vinegar
2) bread with brie cheese
3) quesadilla
4) tea

I consumed a good amount of these in about 30 minutes and read "best of craigslist" and now I feel better. I can see now how sad people can become obese...

17 high

I've picked my favorite freeway stretch to drive and it's Highway 17 between Santa Cruz and San Jose. Yes, other drives are prettier, but in those cases I like being the passenger and not the driver. When I'm present and active, I like a challenge and the 17 is exactly that. The interesting thing about it for me is that the challenge isn't in driving fast or maneuvering and annoying everyone else on the road. The challenge is in driving it well. Brake in anticipation, then coooooaaaast through the curve. Brake lightly enough and coast at just the right speed and it's driving perfection and it takes a few times on that highway to get the hang of it. Add to that a Daft Punk mix to pump you up and focus, and it's an amazing high.

P.S. I honestly can't believe it's been almost 6 weeks since my last post. This month has been insanely unstable. But for the few of you that read this and are interested, I just moved into an amazing house in North Oakland and should be starting work in 2 weeks.

Follow-up

So I promised you I'd write more on why Mike Bloomberg is awesome. I'm entirely too sleepy to do that myself now, so I'm going to ask you to read this article because it pretty much sums up his awesomeness.

http://www.mikebloomberg.com/files/Contribute.BloombergReprint.pdf

There is controversy because apparently there was an incident during which Mike told a co-worker, "I'd do her", in reference to a female employee.
If I had a penny for each time I've said that about a male co-worker... well, I could possibly even buy a few minutes in a UCSC parking meter.

And I'm actually happy that this man isn't running for president.
And I wish he had a son. I'd do him.

Just the smell of the summer can make me fall in lo-o-ove...

I've recently gotten into the habit of feeding my internet addiction out on my balcony at night, douzed in Off!Skintastic bug spray. It really is skintastic. I don't know what that means, but it keeps mosquitos off. The smell of the summer night is so sweet when there are lots of plants and things around.
Oh Saturday night I sat around with two good friends, drank Jager and Red Bull, played guitar, and talked about sex, drugs and rock 'n roll til 5:30am. A quiet voice in my head started wishing that I wasn't moving up to Bay Area and instead staying around LA for a few more months. I love and at the same time despise moments when I feel like Alice, kneeling down, looking through a tiny door and contemplating whether or not I should drink from the bottle labled "Drink me". Beyond that tiny door lies a beautiful garden of novelties, distractions and lessons that I want to learn. I don't feel as if I'm missing out on a great phase of life, I only feel that I'm missing out on that great phase of life. In reality I'm standing in front of two doors, both of which, no doubt lead to wonderful places and both of which eventually lead to Spain.
I'm definitely going to miss the warm nights of Southeren California.

Music: Modest Mouse

take that Obamagirl!

Since I gave notice of leaving at work (see July 4th entry), I've been waiting for this moment to come and now it is here. This is the moment when fear sets in. As of July 27th I will no longer have a job. Still no word from AmeriCorps IRC, but I'm starting to think they don't want me. Oh, but I want them badly, even with 10k a year and food stamps.

I had this silly idea that I was going to write insightful things on my blog and attract lots of people to it and make money that way. Terribly pretentious and capitalistic, I know... More than anything it's terribly pathetic since at this point I can't even get Google to search for this damn thing in the first place. It's like this blog doesn't exist. Anyone care to help me with this? I don't have robots in my html and I got it verified by Google. Why isn't it listing me??? I want attention!!! Waaaa...

In other news, I got one of my impacted wisdom teeth extracted two days ago. Not fun. After many ice packs and consecutive doses of ibuprofen really meant for a horse, I'm still alive and kicking... and looking like a lopsided chipmunk (it was only one tooth). It's strange how dentists are the nicest doctors to me. I guess they have to compensate for all the suffering they cause.

Is it wrong to stop and consider my options when a conservative friend offers to donate money to my presidential candidate of choice in exchange for a menage a trois with him? When did politics get so hot? I guess anything that gets people passionate can turn into sexual tension. There's always that pause at the end of an argument when you're both quiet and fuming. Glaring at the other person you think, "I cannot believe this idiot still thinks No Child Left Behind actually works for inner city schoolchildren!" and then there is a spark.
It's sick, really.

?

Last night as the lights went on a little before 2am at an overpriced Hollywood club on Ivar Ave., a nice, though unattractive black man took my hand, asked for my name and told me that he's been watching me dance all night and that I dance like a black woman.
"Uhm... thanks?"
Why does race always have to come into it? Why couldn't he just give me a straight compliment? I don't understand.

How To Quit Your Job - A Guide by Ms. Rena Ragimov

Step 1: Fuck up something important.
Step 2: Get into mildly serious trouble with your boss and fail to explain your actions well.
Step 3: Talk to your boss the next day because you want to explain your actions (or lack thereof) better than the day before.
Step 4: Be asked by your boss if you think you are a deadline oriented person.
Step 5: Reply, "....uhm... I can be?..." Wrong answer.
Step 6: Be told that perhaps you should think whether or not this environment is right for you.
Step 7: Stay silent in answer.
Step 8: After a few moments of silence reply that you aren't ready to make that judgement just yet.
Step 9: Keep a dead silence for a few more moments.
Step 10 (this one is crucial): Start crying for no reason in your boss' office.
Step 11: Feel like a complete idiot who cannot control herself and will therefore never be a successful lawyer, or anything of that matter.
Step 12: Proceed to tell her that in fact you are not happy there at all. You dislike the job very much and have been looking into other things. Your have a couple of interviews up in the Bay Area and if I were to get the jobs I would be giving my notice in a couple of week... but perhaps this is a better time now, whether or not I get the jobs.
Step 13: Be thanked for you honesty and be told that you should feel proud of yourself for making this decision.
Step 14: Be told that if I would be accomodated whenever I decided to leave, and that I would get all of my vacation pay. (Think to yourself, "Sweet!")
Step 15: Compose yourself and go back to work for the remaining 2 hours.
Step 16: Be ridiculously happy about it all.

As I drove into Santa Cruz last night the marquee of the Food Bin & Herb Room said "Don't Look Back". That marquee never lies.