In Which I'm Glad To Have Been Born When And Where I Was

I've been talking about race a lot lately. A lot more than normal, anyway.

Today The Boyfriend and I had the opportunity to see a morning movie (the best kind of movie - they're half price, usually not packed, and tend to have a less annoying crowd) and since 12 Years a Slave was still playing, likely thanks to its Oscar nomination, we figured that was the most appropriate choice for Martin Luther King, Jr Day. 12 Years a Slave is not an easy movie to sit through. They make it clear at the beginning and end that the movie is based on a true story - based off the first hand account as told in the book by the same name, written by the main character. 

[Spoilers] The main character, a black freeman named Solomon, a New York musician who appears to be well respected in his community, is kidnapped and sold into slavery with a name change and a very bruised spirit. Though he has two… colleagues, of sorts… with him, who together decide that keeping their heads down and not letting on that they're educated or - heaven forbid - are freemen, Solomon is soon alone to fend for himself. For years he's shuffled along from one slaver to another, some relatively decent (for slave owners) and some so horrible it was hard to keep looking at the screen at times, always looking for the opportunity to find his way back to his real life. He eventually finds it, in a sympathetic Canadian who takes a risk by contacting Solomon's former associates to send his free papers, and the end of the movie brought the whole theater to tears. Not even kidding, there was sniffling all around us. I had brought a few tissues because I'm still dealing with the after effects of the flu, but The Boyfriend and I ended up using them to dry our eyes before heading back out into daylight. It was rough. 

Martin Luther King Jr feels extra prevalent as an icon now than when I was a kid, and having the day off in remembrance of him makes me even more aware of this. Today MLK stands for more than just racial equality, he stands for all that is and should be right with humanity. He stands for racial equality, sexual equality, respect for animals, and respect for the earth. His words - spoken at a certain time and for a certain cause - are being attributed today to a whole slew of causes that are just as important as the one he campaigned and died for. 

I feel particularly lucky to have had the opportunity to be so reminded of what MLK stood for because I have a boss who, I imagine, feels particularly connected to the man's cause. Martin Luther King Jr Day is an important day for LGBT campaigns, and for a gay man (who gives his employees the day off, with pay) it seems appropriate that he wants us to recognize it. And I'm glad that today we saw 12 Years a Slave, and not The Wolf of Wall Street. 

A little over a week ago I was driving with my boss to a client meeting and we got on the subject of race and sexuality in San Diego. I told a story of how The Boyfriend and I were approached in Home Depot by one of their marketing team and asked if we were planning on a major renovation in the next few years (kitchen or bath remodel). The implication I got was that Home Depot was looking for a way to get some publicity; The Boyfriend was having none of it, thinking that it was a scam at worst or a ploy to get him to do more work on his condo than he wanted at best. I had thought the marketing guy was looking for a couple they'd be able to promote about the cool things we did with Home Depot supplies/labor, and finding an interracial couple was a relative gold mine for publicity. My boss agreed, adding that we're such a good looking couple (awww) that they'd probably have promoted any work we did with Home Depot like crazy, adding further that we could probably easily exploit our relationship if we wanted to. (He also added that if we had kids we'd be pretty much exactly the perfect "family of today," but I didn't mention that kids aren't part of the plan.) 

My boss brought up the fact that I probably don't see my boyfriend as someone different than me because there's a different in our skin color. Which is true. I might have grown up in a predominantly white town, but while I noticed differences in appearance it was like I was noticing hair color - some people just have different hair color than I do, and some people just have different skin color than I do. That never made a difference in a person's personality or abilities, and I never got the impression that others felt any differently (though as part of the racial majority I'm not exactly one to speak with any authority on that, and I was occasionally guilty of saying things that were taken in a totally different context than I meant them or would have even understood at the time). Having since moved to San Diego, where there's far greater racial diversity, and living in the time I am, it's almost unfathomable that race is that big a deal to some people. Which is why watching things like 12 Years a Slave is so difficult. The characters in the movie believed in slavery. They used the bible to not only justify keeping other human beings in slavery, but blamed the slaves for their own circumstances using the same bible verses. They didn't want to hear that their slaves were potentially freemen in other states. They didn't want to hear that they might have had other names, that there might have been wives and children and humanity somewhere else. Slaves were property, no different from horses or dogs, to do with as they pleased because god gave them to the slavers. They had not only the right to own these people, but the duty to judge and punish and kill them for the slightest disobedience, real or imagined.

Our conversation turned to my boss's experiences as a gay man, living with his husband in San Diego and other parts of the country. My boss was born and raised in a very, very small town in Louisiana that I still can't pronounce or spell properly. He eventually moved to New York, where he met his husband, and they moved to San Diego together, living in Colorado and one or two other states in between. He talked about their experiences walking down the sidewalk holding hands, how it's still not normal enough to not get odd looks (whereas The Boyfriend and I are almost entirely ignored because our relationship isn't unusual here), and how they are introduced to so many hairdressers because straight people only seem to have that one connection to gays (but bless them for trying!). There's still a disconnect between the LGBT community and everyone else, just like there was between whites and everyone else just 50 years ago.

I wonder how Martin Luther King Jr would have felt having lines from his speeches being borrowed for other causes. I have to believe he would be proud, because a man can't repeatedly preach about equality for all, talk about respect for women, gays, animals, and the environment and not imagine that his words would be used for something even greater than he meant at the time. And I'm glad that I was able to think so much about his legacy today. There will always be differences between men and women - women can't help that men can't have kids, and that will probably always contribute to our lower pay and limit our career choices. But there aren't differences between whites and any other race, or straights and gays, and I'd like to think that one day, hopefully while The Boyfriend and I are still alive, we'll be able to see these perceived differences disappear completely and whites and non-whites and straights and LGBTs are 100% equal in every way.

Living Alone... Kinda

I seem to end up in the 4th apartment...

About a month ago my roommate moved out. Well, kind of. Her bed is still here, as is her dresser and shelf, and a lot of bathroom stuff, and her fiance's table is in the kitchen. But other than that, I'm pretty much living by myself. Well, with the cat.

Back in August, my roommate got engaged. (Yay!) They'd already talked about moving in together and decided she'd move to Fullerton, so I knew it was coming (actually, she even knew the proposal was coming because he'd let something slip a few months earlier). While all this was happening, my roommate was also trying to buy a place.

So, we talked about it and came up with one of the strangest agreements. My roommate placed an offer on a condo in August, which was approved by the owners  in October. But it would have to gain the approval of the bank (short sale), which could take time. My roommate would still stick to her plan to move out to start her new job in November. I agreed to pay a little bit more rent and we'd keep our apartment while she waited to hear if she got the condo. If she gets the condo, I tentatively agreed to move in and be her tenant, leaving one room open for them to visit. If she doesn't get the condo, I offered to find another, smaller, cheaper 2 bedroom and she'd rent out the small room.

Why? Even though she moved to Fullerton, she still has lots of connections in San Diego to bring her (and her fiance) back on a regular basis. So far she's been here almost every weekend since moving out, and if we didn't have our place still they'd have had already spend a good amount on a hotel. So having a place in San Diego that they can come to makes sense for them, especially while they're planning their wedding. And she's been wanting to buy a place since I met her (and as much as she denies it I'm convinced they'll eventually move to San Diego permanently).

What's in it for me? The potential ability to live "alone" for a lot less money than I'd have to pay otherwise. The upside is a pretty significant savings and the potential ability to live in a nicely remodeled condo, have a dedicated parking space and laundry room, and it'd be a few miles closer to the boyfriend. The downside is it's not in my neighborhood, which means no more walk to work, walk to bars, walk to restaurants, walk to grocery stores. And it's not in the safest of neighborhoods so I wouldn't feel comfortable going for a run, which would mean either a lot more gym time or a lot more driving to a better place to run (or changing at work and running from the office). 

So I'm undecided. There are appealing parts and there are things I wouldn't like about it. I won't have to decide until we know if she gets the place, and I'm really hoping we know this week so we can give our 30 day notice in December... not having to pay for another month in our current apartment would be awesome.

Farewell, Foundry

One of my most favorite places in North Park, The Foundry, closed its doors this week. It's the closest bar to my house, and one I really loved walking to. They had amazingly delicious hot pho, which I ordered every single time I went there. Unless they were out. Then I got super sad.

It turns out the owner had to make a decision between participating in and touring with his band and running a bar. And he picked the band. He sold The Foundry to someone who wants to open a sports bar. *shudder*

The last bowl of shrimp pho ever.

Not a fan of sports bars. But I'll more than likely at least stop by and check it out, at least to see what they did with it and what kind of beers they have. Who knows, maybe it really will be the less-douchey sports bar in North Park.

Farewell, Foundry. I did enjoy thee.

Why I Love Fall So Much

The only time of year I feel it's acceptable to dress up the animals.

When I start talking about how I love fall the first response I get is usually "well, cause it's your birthday." Which is true. I know a lot of people who love summer who were born in summer, so it stands to reason. Plus, I do love my birthday. 

Halloween being in the middle of fall, and being arguably the best holiday (especially if you're an adult), also helps a whole lot. 

Anyone can like a season or even have a favorite. I'm a little obsessed with how much I love fall. People typically feel about summer the way I feel about fall, which makes a lot of sense to a lot of people. But part of the reason why fall warrants a slight obsession is because it's so short. The fall season doesn't start until late September, and here in Southern California September and October are very summer-y months (much to the dismay of some of those summer-loving people, who get stuck with May Gray and June Gloom). This year the autumn solstice was one of the hotter, more humid days. Instead of cool breezes we got hot, dry Santa Ana winds. Rather than an overcast morning it was pushing 80 degrees before 9am. By the time it feels like fall it'll be halfway through October, and often it won't really feel like fall until November (especially if San Diego burns to the ground this year, which I have a sneaking suspicion it might). Then, as soon as Thanksgiving is over we're on to Christmas, almost a month before the winter solstice.

Actually that's a lie. I was in Target tonight and there were Halloween decorations right next to Christmas decorations. It's not even October yet.

So, fall doesn't really start until mid-October and ends as soon as we finish the last bites of pumpkin pine on Thanksgiving. Like, 5 weeks of autumn before we have to get ready for Christmas and winter. 

At least I get the whole month of October to enjoy, starting with my birthday and ending with Halloween, even if both days are hot and dry.

Calm The Fuck Down

This is what I need to tell myself on a far more regular basis.

And possibly post more anteater pictures...

Anyone reading this somewhat regularly since... well, I started, knows that I was loosely diagnosed with eczema. I'm still not 100% convinced this is what it is, especially since my symptoms are pretty much all wrong. The only thing that still makes it look and act like eczema is the all over itchy rash that makes me want to claw my skin off.

Anyway, I've discovered that whatever it is is stress induced. I've been to Planned Parenthood a few times this year alone issues that could be tied to whatever skin rash I have. The last time I went she asked me if I felt stressed or worried in my relationship (resounding no) or in life. I said, "well, I'm always stressed," in a nonchalant, this-is-typical-for-me way. Because it's true. There's always fucking something.

This time I've got it pared down: started a new job (3 month probationary period, looking at it like an extended interview, trying to be the best); sometimes I feel totally overwhelmed in my new job because I'm surrounded by some really smart people who know what they're doing and who are giving me very real responsibilities; some jackwad ran into my car and caused me $800 worth of repairs that my full coverage insurance won't cover; and the cherry on top is some other jackwad stuck a business card on my car window which slipped into the door frame as I rolled the window down because I didn't notice until it was there until it was too late. Boom, stress rash. And then I freak the fuck out and try to figure out if it is in fact eczema by looking at photos and descriptions online, which just makes me itch more.

But I honestly shouldn't be that stressed, definitely not enough to cause a rash to break out on my arms and legs. I did just get back from a very lovely vacation; I'm very happy in my job and mostly unworried about the probationary period because they seem to like me a bunch and the fact that they are giving me big responsibilities is telling; even though I sometimes feel overwhelmed the very next day I feel like I have a handle on things and that I'm just as smart as my coworkers; I can afford my car repairs (I'm just mad that I have them); taking on a very small bit of debt when I have a steady income shouldn't freak me out.

HA!

The vast, vast majority of my worry and stress stems from money (thanks, mom and dad). I know what makes me happy and I've pretty much got everything I need and want: my cat who sometimes loves me, a job that fulfills me, a boyfriend who adores me, an apartment I'm going to be sad to leave, a roommate I'm friends with, an easy 10 minute walking commute, a neighborhood and city I belong in, and dozens of opportunities every week to satisfy my little desires. But I just wrapped up debt and started to save up for things I want, rather than just the things I need, before being unemployed for a brief period, which added to a vacation did give me back some credit card debt, which I had been happy to be rid of. Add to that my new car repairs and the car insurance I still haven't finished paying off (all thanks to timing) and I've got myself some saving to do. Plus, there are the things I've wanted for a long time that I would much rather not postpone anymore: a new bed, my own apartment, and (maybe) an iPhone. As long as I wait until mid-November and know I'm secure in my position I think it'd be OK to take on a little debt (famous last words, right?). Fortunately, I make enough to save that money in a few months as long as I stick to the frugal lifestyle I adopted in college and never really grew out of. By the new year I should be debt free again and able to start saving for my next vacation, build up a security savings for when the next something happens (because it always does), and start paying down my car faster.

And in the meantime, tell myself to just calm the fuck down. I got this. I really do.

The First Year

Getting distracted making dinner.

Today marks a full year since deciding to date one of my great friends and it's easily one of the best decisions I've ever made. But while we've been dating a year, our relationship started more than two years ago when we met. I remember telling someone once, slightly more than a year ago, about our friendship and how I didn't think it would come to be considering how it started, and then saying how very glad I was that it did.

Right off the bat this was the person I texted more than anyone else. We had immediately established a mutual love of food and burritos (and what he was eating, normally way past normal bedtimes) became a frequent topic of conversation. Part of this was fueled by my late night job which required me to eat dinner around 11pm, which was right around the time he'd be grabbing a burrito or carne asada fries. After I left that job I remember laying in bed once just before midnight and checked my phone: no text from my friend. And no texts the whole day or day before that, either. Suddenly that felt weird, even though we didn't necessarily text daily. I must have just gotten used to that communication.

A few months before we started dating I was fed up and frustrated... I had been off and on seeing someone I felt meh about and was ready for someone I'd feel more for. My mind kept going back to my friend, making me ask myself why we weren't dating. I couldn't explain it but something just wasn't there, and by then he'd become too good a friend to risk a short term fling (I really liked him and I didn't exactly have a good track record of staying in touch, much less staying friends, with people I dated). But I caught myself thinking about him more than I should if we were just friends, and way more than I should if I was sort-of-seeing someone else. This was someone who was ready to be there for me, someone who talked me to sleep when my psycho housemate had some sort of night terror, who picked me up to take me to get my car at a mechanic, who made me leap out of my bar stool at a restaurant when I saw him so I could go say hi, who felt comfortable asking me about the brief time we pseudo-dated to assess a strange rejection, who introduced me to great little restaurants, who took me to the zoo for our friendship zooversary, who took me on a day date to a theatre matinee... why, again, weren't we dating?

And then all of a sudden, through a strange turn of events I still don't fully understand, we were. And it was the easiest, least awkward, and most exciting time. When my phone buzzed from a text it was already likely going to be from him, but now my heart was doing little skips hoping it was him. I hadn't had that in... a long time.

It turned out that year of being friends, and growing into good friends, was what made me fall in love with him without even realizing it. All we did was acknowledge it. And because of that, I've been lucky enough to have spent the last year with someone who:

*Pulls me closer in the middle of the night, without realizing what he's doing

*Dances with me in the grocery store (rather, dances next to me while I stand there looking awkward)

*Tells me I'm weird. And silly.

*Turns on Friends and laughs hysterically at all the same parts

*Brings me a cupcake from our favorite dessert place, just because I was having a bad day (and flowers just because)

*Sends me romantic text messages randomly, even ones that just have a heart

*Wanted to collaborate on a blog about food

*Looks at me in a way I've never been looked at before

*Is not afraid to be honest or direct with me

*Will eat anything I make, even banana bread

*Noticeably talks with me openly about our differences or disagreements

*Makes me feel like a real partner, an equal

Now this is a better representation of us.

When I wrote about having a boyfriend a week after we made things official I had said that I'd never felt this way about someone, that there hasn't been a person I've been this crazy for. Ever. A year later that's still true. I still, 12 months later, get that in-love feeling. I look at him when he's just sitting there, or playing with his dog, or editing photos, or (my favorite) out cold asleep, and get this wonderful surge of love. 

I get a similar feeling from his dog. From night one Argo has slept next to me (that might have far more to do with me being new than with me being me, but it still feels nice), sandwiching me in between him and my boyfriend, and as time has gone on he's seemed to get more attached and more comfortable with me. When the boyfriend is in the other room, Argo will come and hang out with me on the couch, and he's relaxed enough now to fall asleep on the couch spread out up against me or let me bury my toes in his warm fur. Through training and conditioning, partially due to my efforts but mostly due to the efforts of my boyfriend who immediately wanted us to have a deep connection, the dog now listens to my commands (mostly) and has developed an interesting level of respect for me that's entirely different from the respect he gives his dad. I'm still the fun one, but when I have to lay down the law he listens. And I can't help but think, when all three of us are cuddled on the couch, what a great little family we make. Now, to get the cat on board...

Working Woman

Oh god yes.

Aaaaaaand I got a job. Quickest bout of unemployment ever! Haven't even gotten an unemployment check yet, even, so that'll make taxes next year less confusing. 

I went through this blog from the last year or so and found six separate posts that are almost entirely about my job, why it sucked and how working full time and still not having money to do little things was wearing me out. I so wanted to find some awesome job, walk in to work and quit in a fantastic style, but being laid off because the owners couldn't work together anymore robbed me of that story. But on the other hand, I wouldn't have found the job I'm starting tomorrow had I not been looking in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. And for the first time in years, I'm taking a job not because it's there, not because I was offered the position, not because it's at least slightly better than the one before, and not because I have to have a job, any job, but because I wanted it when I saw it, because I think I fit in to the culture, because I have the same beliefs as the company and I believe we will support each other. For the first time since 2009 I'm excited to start a job that I think I will do great in, a job that suits me.

I spent the last three years in one job or another that paid the bills (sometimes barely... I still amaze myself with how little I actually need to survive on) and had its upside, but was mostly soul sucking. Working in the one department at the Wild Animal Park that didn't care about the animals and asked its employees to do whatever it took to make money was eye opening in a very bad way (especially for me), working for an English language school for international students that couldn't give a shit about the students' actual experience in San Diego and ruined many of their ideas of this country and this city was horrifying, and working for what I thought was a remodeling and home improvement company when all the owners cared about was signing a contract and cashing a check, flat out telling their employees they don't care about the customers and that we run a sales company, not a remodeling company and one that had favorite employees and employees that were constantly taken advantage of was shocking. And the job hunting process wasn't exactly a cake walk either, considering I'd been looking for months. When I was looking while still employed I wanted to find the right fit, and when I was looking while unemployed I was worried I'd have to once again take a job just because it was a job, don't much care what it is (watched a lot of Firefly last night).

I think, finally, I've found a company that not only does what it says it does, but cares about what it does (can you imagine?). Their mission statement includes the word passion in it. And from what the extensive interview process showed me, they really care who they hire because it's going to make a difference to the team, their creative process and their clients. I don't think a company would go through such an intense interview process if they didn't care so much. And I'm really excited if that's the case. I would love to be able to stay with a company for a few years and really grow with it and learn. I think I may have my chance to stop hopping around year after year.

Also finally, the boyfriend has a job he loves. After freelancing for... 4 years?... he landed a great job doing what he's been doing, only for an established photography company that gets its own clients and doesn't require him to do the whoring-himeself-out-for-work part. Which means all that stuff he doesn't like about the job he's doing for an hourly rate, and all the stuff he loves (photographing cars and food and animals) he can still do on his own time. And everything he does for the company gives him more skill. We've got the first step of the DINK system down now and one day we'll be those annoying pet parents real parents can't stand because we have disposable income for funzies (but we'll make it up by being a great aunt/uncle pair). The future is definitely looking good!

One Week: Two Years Later

Random collection of characters in extraordinary costumes.

The last week has been thoroughly out of the ordinary, much like last time.

Last Saturday I went to Comic Con for the first time. I'd been around downtown San Diego during Comic Con before but had never been inside. I'm not a big enough geek (or that into pop culture) to justify buying an expensive ticket or spending an entire day waiting around for something, which was my impression of Comic Con before, but the boyfriend, leading the charmed existence he does, won a pair of day tickets on the radio with his Star Wars knowledge. So I got to go! 

I have to admit, a good part of Comic Con was exactly what I'd imagined: a lot of people walking around in costumes and lots of waiting around. But a bigger part of Comic Con was something I'd never have discovered without going. The costumes, for example, were amazing! So much time, thought and detail went into creating them, and anyone who was dressed up was constantly stopped and asked for a photo. Plus, the range of characters, from TV shows, movies and comics, was astounding. So many genres were represented. It was pretty awesome. 

The all around eye candy in the convention center was also pretty amazing. So many enormous TV screens playing video games, trailers, clips from shows, interviews and promotional material, not to mention the rows upon rows of booths giving away comics, flyers and cards, had my eyes wide open. They give everyone a bag to carry around the swag in, which was half my height, and saying no to free material was actually pretty hard. I enjoyed going, but if we'd wanted to see the panels we'd have had to spend our entire day waiting in line, and that just doesn't seem like a good way to spend a Saturday... but that's why people buy multiple day passes. And The Oatmeal wasn't there, which was the one booth I was looking forward to.

Then Monday I went into work and about half of the company, myself included, was laid off. No warning, no notice, not even severance. I didn't even get paid for going into work, despite being there for almost two hours before finally leaving with my check from last week. Total shit. I'd wanted out of that company pretty much since starting more than a year ago, but I wanted to do it on my terms and be able to walk out of there having said what I felt, and that was taken away. The upside is the rest of the week has been a much happier one, where I woke up and felt ready to take on the day, went to bed at night with an accomplished feeling and have been far more satisfied with my life simply not having that job. I can't be in a job I hate, not for long anyway, and having done so was really taking its toll. In fact, I'd taken the Friday before off mostly to job hunt because I wanted out so badly. Of course, not having an income sucks and prevents me from truly enjoying this time off as much as I'd like to, but that's what unemployment insurance is for, right?

I spent the rest of Monday drinking, first with one also-laid-off coworker and then with friends, and had a lovely Monday for the first time in months. I have to say, summer is a great time to be unemployed. 

Tuesday I was very productive: got in a great morning work out then spent the rest of the afternoon applying to jobs. I found one that's actually in my own neighborhood (walk to work?!) and seems completely perfect for me. I took a lot of time crafting an application and personal email and they responded asking for a phone interview! The interview process at this particular company is long and involved because they're looking more for the right fit, but that makes me feel like I have an advantage. Here's hoping!

Wednesday, because the people in my life are awesome, I went to opening day at the Del Mar Racetrack with one of my best friends. I'd been to the races before but never on opening day, and so much eye candy! Fabulous dresses and even better hats were everywhere. It was so much fun getting dressed up and walking around with all of the other people. We took the free shuttle from the Solana Beach train station and our fellow passengers were so drunk (at 1pm) that we could smell the alcohol on them. Once we actually got in it was obvious the vast majority of opening day patrons had been drinking for some time. We met up with my friend's coworker, who was having a bad day, but it seemed like everyone else was having a bad day too. Around 4pm there were a lot of ladies who were yelling at their men or just sitting down tired, drunk and angry. It didn't affect us though - we enjoyed seeing the horses and all the dolled up ladies all day, even if we were the only ones in a halfway decent mood. But I'd have never had the chance to go to opening day and prance around in a hat and dress if I was employed!

Thursday night, again taking advantage of my newfound unemployment, the boyfriend and I and his friend saw The Dark Knight Rises at midnight. I won't say anything about it except that it was great and totally worth seeing at midnight. However, I don't think I'll be seeing any more midnight showings, job or no job, because apparently I'm old and it's become too hard to stay awake. 

Friday the boyfriend and I ran some errands, getting a cage for his very fruitful tomato plant, and met up with his friends in my neighborhood for happy hour. One of his old friends from college was in town for Pride and their whole group got together. It was a fun night, especially because everyone seemed to be in such a great mood.

It's an awful cell phone picture, but those are dancing super heroes.

And finally, today is Gay Pride. We went to the parade, walked to Balboa Park (where apparently the festival is $20 per person), and then walked back. The people watching during Pride is one of my favorite things to do, and I always try to go at some point of the day. We saw a girl walking around in just shorts and star-shaped pasties on her nipples, right past a cop. He told her to put a shirt on. She complained and the poor cop just shook his head as in, look, you can't go walking around naked, just put a shirt on. It was a little ridiculous. But then so was the foam-mobile. 

Tonight might consist of sushi and drink specials and maybe walking around Hillcrest for Pride. This year, though, is going to be decidedly different from last. This year will not involve me making out with a gay man, or annoying anyone's boyfriend, or walking through Hillcrest barefoot because my heels hurt too much (I still shudder that I actually did that). This year will more likely consist of me saving the boyfriend from the clutches of very outgoing hopefuls around town. Seeing everyone happy and free and out makes me feel happy, which is why I love Pride.

It's certainly been an interesting week! I'm going to make an effort to better enjoy this time of no-work because I know that soon enough I'll be back at it 5 days a week. 

Why California Is More Awesome Than Your State

I've used this before and I'll use it again.

The news has been dominated with stories of just how hot it’s been in the country lately, as we’ve had the hottest two weeks in recorded history. Temperatures are in the triple digits in many states and a massive power outage on the East Cost left thousands without air conditioning. 

And the other day after work I went for a nice run, rather than to the gym, because it was so cool out. I frickin love San Diego.

It’s really hard to sympathize when other states pick on California for being weird or prissy or stuck up or radical and then complain that they don’t have AC when I can feel ocean breezes at work (and at home, on my lucky days). Sure we get temperatures over 100 degrees here, and in fact I worked in 110+ degrees three summers ago (really, it’s been 3 years already?) in a truck in “Africa” without AC. And I dealt with it. And lost 5 pounds. I will say, however, that our cool weather has been wonderful, but it was a bit too cool on the 4th of July; I wanted an iconic, hot summer day and got mist in the morning and clouds that never gave way. Oh well.

The other day I stumbled upon a Twitter profile for Count on Coal, a company that’s all about the benefits of coal powered energy and why we need it. I also happened to stumble upon photos from Pittsburgh from the 1940s when everything was coal powered and the streets and buildings were black from smoke. Seriously, you couldn’t even see across the street in broad daylight because the smoke was so thick. Pittsburgh doesn’t look like that anymore because of sweeping clean air standards that were soon implemented nationwide and even in countries around the world. Count on Coal’s Twitter feed talked almost exclusively about how cheap coal energy is and why we as a country can’t afford to get rid of it now. Somehow, though, they think we can afford the threat to national security that coal energy requires, the damage to the environment that will take decades to repair, the damage to our lungs and bodies that is irreparable, and the loss of jobs that clean energy production can provide (yes, getting rid of coal will get rid of coal jobs but that's a very, very tiny percentage of the population).

Energy is set up to be a rather large player in the presidential election in a few months, with our current president trying to remove coal as a main source of energy and replace it with clean, renewable sources of energy in the form of solar and wind and biofuels where possible, while those within the coal industry will do whatever they can to keep coal useful, despite its health and environmental costs. On NPR yesterday I listened to a person employed by a coal company say Hussein (our president’s rather unfortunate middle name) is Arabic for “I hate coal workers.” Real mature. During the same story, one woman explained that the coal workers in Virginia don’t know anything else and that losing their coal jobs (most of which are mining, a deadly job) would be devastating. I didn’t hear anyone say they’d be opposed to learning a new job, such as, say, clean energy production, and when you realize that jobs in Virginia are actually up 7 or so percent in that state it’s hard to take the coal miners seriously. I think I’d be OK to be rid of my dangerous job, which will most certainly give me a terminal disease in my old age if it doesn’t outright kill me, especially if it meant being transferred to a much better, safer job.

It seems like there will never be a good time to make the changes that our country needs. It seems like a pretty big coincidence that this major heat wave and freak storm that caused the power outage is going on right when we’re all complaining that we can’t afford the clean energy, that we can’t afford to stop our planet from killing us. We’re in an amazing cycle right now that will ultimately culminate in a mass extinction that will almost certainly wipe us out: we use incredibly damaging products and energy sources because they’re financially inexpensive for the producer or buyer (usually thanks to horrific labor and environmental regulations in another country, which we like to ignore), the Earth’s climate starts to change because of these processes, we use even more damaging energy to deal more comfortably with the new climate, and so on. Meanwhile, we’re in a financially fucked period which actually has a lot to do with how we get all that cheap energy and the only choice we have is to keep buying that cheap energy. When will we ever sit back and realize we have the means to make the changes we need to make? When are we ever going to admit we’re financially comfortable enough to pay a little extra for the clean energy? Even American millionaires say they struggle to make ends meet.

Thing is, cause there’s always a thing, clean energy isn’t as expensive as the coal industry is saying. It’s not like our costs are going to double and we’re only going the clean energy route to be altruistic hippies. Here’s the truth: it’s actually cheaper. Clean energy is less expensive to buy and use than coal energy, which is why many businesses are moving towards clean energy. But coal isn’t going to admit to that. The initial costs of converting to a different energy source (borne by the energy utilities and certainly passed on to the consumer) will exist, obviously, and they might be more than what some people are willing to pay. It’s like planting a garden: setting up a bed, buying soil, seedlings and fertilizer is tons more expensive than buying a few tomatoes at the store. But when you don’t have to buy tomatoes for the rest of the summer, and your costs every summer after that for tomatoes are a fraction of what they used to be, it starts to look a lot more affordable. Plus, there’s the mass market factor: one person buying clean energy is going to cost more for that one person than it would if everyone on the block bought clean energy.

My long winded point is that the time has passed us. There won’t ever be a right time for us to convert to a better energy, and the planet is just going to suffer for it. Incidentally, after doing some research on our planet’s history the other day I came to the conclusion that the planet will actually be quite fine. It went through ice ages before that were so cold the oceans froze, had massive meteors hit that caused dust to choke out life, and will last through this heat age we’re contributing to. The sad thing is many people, if not all, will die, as will the majority of the species currently in existence. The rhinos and tigers and frogs and whales and pandas… everything except the super adaptable will die. Maybe a few people will survive, but human subspecies have gone extinct before so it can happen again. Then, some thousands of years later, plants and animals will begin to evolve again and all new life will start over, and maybe some new subspecies of human will walk the Earth again.

Three Years of Blogging

I started this blog 3 years ago today (under a different name for a few days, until I settled on this) as a way to keep me focused and sharp during what would become a 3 month period of unemployment. There's certainly been a lot that's happened and changed in three years:


Got 2 jobs at the Wild Animal Park
Broke up with my long term boyfriend
Seriously doubted my faith
Collected unemployment insurance
Moved out of my wonderful studio
Changed my phone number
Lived with a friend
Lived with a crazy person
Had an amazing summer
Started running, seriously
Reevaluated my meat eating habits
Dated a friend, then ended the friendship
Used my Class B license for a job
Made a bunch of international friends
Had a shitty year
Said goodbye to a dog
Read a bunch of books
Remembered why I love living in San Diego
Was more or less dumped in favor of cocaine
Was more or less disowned by my father
Found a great roommate and a great apartment
Learned to love North Park
Got a writing job
Rediscovered my real passion
Celebrated 2 cousin's weddings
Ran 3 half marathons in 2 states
Made real friendships
Lost fake friendships
Fell deeply in love with a real friend
Traveled to San Francisco and Las Vegas
Sold a car
Bought a car
Started a new blog


This year has been amazing so far and the vast majority of last year was, too. I fully intend on enjoying the rest of it as much as I possibly can. Imagining what the next three years might hold is pretty exciting, too, especially (and this is where I get to be a girl) when I think about the amazing times in store with my boyfriend at my side. There's one thing that will always be certain in my life, in the next 3 years an beyond, and that is that I will always be writing. 

Why I Love Chipotle

Living in San Diego, with the abundance of real, delicious and amazing Mexican food, it feels a little wrong to love Chipotle so much. It's not real Mexican food, and it really is like the Subway of Mexican cuisine, but my goodness it hits the spot. For around $6 you get a burrito that easily weighs two pounds, stuffed with fresh ingredients that you pick and choose and can see them prepare. For a little more than a dollar extra they'll give you a bag of some very yummy tortilla chips (seasoned with big bits of salt and lime!). I judge a Mexican place by its chips and Chipotle has them down.

I've loved Chipotle ever since I found out about their food purchasing habits: a significant percentage of their vegetables are purchased from local farms (about 20-30%) and so much of their meat is from naturally raised sources that when their suppliers can't meet their demands they post signs saying so. Chipotle supports the food documentary Food Inc, which is still on my Netflix queue, which leads me to believe they must not have much to hide. Ten years ago there wasn't much of a demand for sustainably raised meats, for animals to be treated humanely or for local shopping options, and now there are farmer's markets all over my city, Whole Foods is a sustainable Mecca and Chipotle and their "food with integrity" program is the leader in buying animals from real ranchers who don't use antibiotics (cue heavenly music). All, as in 100%, of Chipotle's pork is from natural ranchers (pastures, vegetarian food, letting pigs be pigs), and they're working on getting 100% of their chicken, beef and dairy from the same sources.

Chipotle also re-evaluated their menu a little while ago, now providing calorie counts next to their menu items, brown rice in addition to white and kids options. They also made the price of their salad the same as everything else to encourage salad eating.

Plus, their literature is snarky, and how can I not get behind that?

But the reason for this post? Every time I go in there when I'm feeling un-awesome they seem to pick up on it and make my day. Once I went in amazingly hung over after my worst night of drinking and a full shift the next day and got the most massive burrito and a sympathetic look from the workers who knew exactly what was up. Recently I went in on a frustrating lunch break and the cashier slipped me a mini bag of chips and a soda. It's not much, at all, but man does it make me happy. A little kindness goes a long way, and Chipotle is certainly doing it right.

Driving Stick

Stick!

It's been about a month since I bought my car and I think I've really gotten the hang of the whole driving stick thing. At first it was a little frustrating because I kept stalling and was nervous about pissing people off and being too slow, but some encouragement from a friend and the stick-driving Reddit community made me less worried. I still have to concentrate on listening to the engine when I'm driving around town but the sweet spot is showing itself must faster now.

Parallel parking is coming easier, making me more confident that I can squeeze into those tiny spaces, and I've tackled the big scary hill by my apartment a couple of times. I still get excited when I shift smoothly and angry with myself when I make a mistake. But the mistakes happen a lot less often now.

There are still a couple situations that I don't have a handle on: letting the engine slow the car down in a low gear (the engine sounds like it's freaking out) and inching forward in traffic (it's probably best to just not do that). But learning all these things, and the intricacies of driving a manual transmission, is a lot of fun and it's really exciting. I can't wait until I'm good enough to teach my friends.

If there's any one part of manual driving that makes me think I have a handle on it, it's driving in heels and flip flops. In the last month, I've driven in my normal shoes, a couple different pairs of flip flops and heels at New Years and the only time I had a difficult time driving was when I drove barefoot after getting a pedicure. Driving in flip flops and heels was a slight concern when I started because The Ex would never drive in flip flops, saying it was too hard. Though he wouldn't walk in flip flops without intense prodding on my part either, so now I'm thinking it was more of an insecurity than a hardship... there's no way I could be a San Diego girl and not know how to do anything and everything in flip flops, and I can't very well always bring an extra pair of shoes when I need to wear heels, now could I?

Two Thousand Eleven

After the disappointment that was 2010 I decided 2011 was going to be better. It so fucking was.

First, it was a year overwhelmingly full of love. I fell in love with San Diego all over again, discovered a love for running (which I'm working on rekindling as the year closes), and fell ridiculously crazy in love with a wonderful friend who I absolutely cannot wait to spend the next year with. I love my neighborhood, my brat of a cat, my apartment with the bars on the windows, and my new car. I loved seeing my friends move on in adulthood and succeed, paying off the debt I'd carried around since graduation (one of my favorite accomplishments), and seeing my sister get serious with someone who's great for her.

I started off the year by participating in a flash mob. I enjoyed it a ton, even though my roommate got really sick the days leading up to it and wasn't able to do it with me and now that flash mobs are so last year, I can at least say I participated in one. For silliness.

Easily my biggest accomplishment for 2011 was finishing 3 half marathons, 2 5Ks and a 4 mile race for a total of 49.3 racing miles and who knows how many training miles. I bought two new pairs of running shoes, several pairs of dry wicking socks, a running jacket, shorts and an iPod and send a few hundred dollars on entry fees and transportation. I have a small stack of bibs, 3 finisher medals (one of which glows in the dark!), a bunch of safety pins and more technical t-shirts than I know what to do with. It's a good feeling, and when I continue in 2012 I'm gonna try to beat that 2 hour mark.

Probably my second biggest accomplishment for 2011 was not moving. That's right, I had the same address for a full year, something which seriously doesn't happen very often for me. One of my goals for 2012 (a ridiculously easy goal, at that) is to make this address the one I live in the longest in San Diego. I have absolutely no intentions of moving, and unless my roommate decides to buy a place she doesn't either. North Park certainly feels a lot more like home now, and I've learned to appreciate what it offers.

I also was able to find a job in my area, one in which I'm using my degree (and, for the most part, need it) and making a higher rate than I ever have, which, now that there's a car payment, still seems like I'm just getting by. My commute is short, my hours are good, my coworkers are a lot of fun to be around and my boss can be pretty generous when he wants to be. It may not be my dream job, and one goal for 2012 will be to find my dream job, but it's good for right now, and it's helping me learn a lot that's going to help me in the future.

This year was not without it's down moments, however. In a coincidental yet poetic turn of events, the day before my birthday, which just so happened to be a day before the 1 year anniversary of my dad officially cutting me out of his life, I went to his house and gathered the last of my belongings there. It was civil and very quick and I'm glad to have gotten it over with, but it has made the last few months extra full of anger and resentment. Every time I see an older woman with red hair I feel incredible hatred towards these perfect strangers. It's becoming difficult to understand how such hatred can exist in the same place as such incredible love.

It was also not a good year for electronics. My camera battery is 99% dead, and the minute or so that it holds a charge really isn't long enough to take and download even one picture. Also unfortunately, I don't think they make those camera batteries anymore (at 4 years old it might as well be ancient) so it looks like I might have to buy a new one. Lucky for me, however, I have my own personal photographer (ok, he's not my own personal photographer) who is usually willing to take my pictures for me, so buying a camera isn't an immediate need. My computer also took a turn for the worse- a laptop without a working screen isn't good for much. The weird thing is after all the shit I put that machine through it still works perfectly and is way faster than the one I've been borrowing for the last few months, except for the screen. A new MacBook Pro is very, very high on my list of things to buy once I pay taxes. Finally, though this isn't really an electronic, my trusty Hyundai Accent died, forcing me to buy a new car.

Other events this year included two cousin's weddings, a trip to Disneyland, discovering goodies at my farmer's market, the rapture, the return of 90s TV shows, learning to drive stick shift, paragliding, getting my 6th piercing, not cutting my hair (it's super long!), a power outage, and getting more fish. It's been a very full year, and I'm proud to say I achieved the goals I set for myself at the beginning. I'm also happy to be looking forward to 2012, taking steps to accomplish my new goals, and sitting with my boyfriend and a bucket of popcorn as we watch people flip out over the Mayan calendar prediction.

Power Outage 2011

This thought did cross my mind.

I remember where I was September 8, 2011, the day of the Power Outage 2011. It was about 3:40 in the afternoon and I was sitting at my desk at work, taking a mental break from writing about garage doors and reading about the toll September 11, 2001 had on the children of those who died. This is something I found funny… reading about destruction and despair as the whole city (and soon other states and part of another country) loses power. We’ll lose power for a few minutes because of bad weather or some car accident, but it’s usually localized and back on in a matter of minutes. I immediately posted my enthusiasm for the break in routine to Facebook and then texted my boyfriend. It was when he responded with “here, too,” that I knew the power outage wasn’t localized and wasn’t likely to be back on. He was on the other side of town, so far away that there was no way some accident or overuse of power or other normal cause of an outage was the culprit. This was citywide.

Soon I got text messages from other friends, and started sending them to people in San Diego’s extremities. Downtown? Out. Escondido? Out. Coronado? Out. The power outage had reached from Carlsbad to downtown/Coronado, and from the oceans to La Mesa. This was going to be big.

Within the first half hour reports came in that the outage extended as far north as San Clemente (Orange County) to as far south as parts of Mexico (a whole other country), and as far east as Arizona and New Mexico (other states). I was constantly texting my friends and refreshing Facebook for updates; I knew that Los Angeles was safe from the lack of updates from Facebook and because my family members hadn’t texted, but the rest of us were in for an interesting night.

That was when the excitement really hit. At first the power outage was an interesting distraction from the monotony of work. But after the first 30 minutes it became clear this wasn’t going away soon, and because by then it was already after 4pm there wasn’t much reason to remain at work. I did, though, because no one else was leaving and because I’d heard that the freeways were more like parking lots, but when 5pm rolled around and the power still wasn’t back on I peaced out.

I headed to South Park with a friend in search of fun. We found free gelato and $1.50 beers in a candlelit bar. After that I met up with my boyfriend at his friend’s house in my neighborhood for more candlelit atmosphere (and more beer), and after that I headed home, because my day tomorrow is scheduled as normal.

And as I write this (on Word, using the battery on my borrowed laptop), I’m alone in my candle-lit apartment, snacking on my dinner of cold jalapeno artichoke dip and chips, and feeling like my boyfriend should be here to appreciate the ambiance. Candles might be girly but they’re also ridiculously sexy. Candlelight makes anyone look hot and sets the perfect mood… as much as I wanted to be alone tonight, now I wish I wasn’t.

Although I do need the money, I hope the power outage lasts long enough to let me leave work tomorrow. If that happens I’ll bring the fish that’s sitting in my fridge (that I *just* bought) to my friend’s house and with her gas stove and/or barbecue we’ll make a feast. It’ll be a day I’m not at work, which will make it automatically good, and it’ll be a day I’m with my lady, which will make it automatically great, and eventually the power will come back on and everything will return to normal and, hopefully, I won’t have lost much food. Because honestly that’s the worst that can happen.

Oh hey, it's 11pm and the power came back on. Well what do you know.

Do Not Want

Alright, guys... here's your fair warning to turn away now. This is another post about my bodily functions.

I'm pretty sure I'm just looking for an excuse to use this.

I got my period. Again. (You were warned.)

Normally this is not ever an event worth talking about (much, much less one worth committing to the Internet), but due to recent events I'm back on birth control, after a glorious whole 5 week break, and once this period is over it means I'm safe.

Hale-frickin-luja.

The other day I went to the San Diego Museum of Man and one of their exhibits is about reproduction and birth. The most disturbing thing in the whole museum is a 3D display of how a woman's pelvic bone expands to allow a baby's head to fit through it. Bone fucking moves. First off, it's incredibly amazing that a woman's body can do that (and also, babies skulls are soft and they sort of squish to pass through the bone... incredible). It should not be possible, but it is. Second, holy FUCK no. I'm absolutely convinced that I would die if I had to go through childbirth. Even though I know women much smaller than me have been successfully giving birth to much larger babies than I was, it still seems far too impossible to be real. It didn't help much to view that exhibit the day I should have gotten my period; when my period is even a few hours late I go into a mini freak-out mode because I'm paranoid, but because I've messed with it a bit the last couple months (and my body and I are pretty tight... I knew what was up) I kept mostly calm. But looking at how a bone goddamn moves to allow a giant baby skull to pass through it when your period should have already come is enough to drive a sane person mad.

Hence the post about me getting my period.

Also, as much as I love writing about condoms, and using the image of the pope when talking about sex, I really hate using them. I'm not entirely sure what it is about them; I thought it was a latex sensitivity but the latex-free ones aren't any better. Regardless, a little discomfort during sex is ten bazillion times better than passing an 8 pound baby (aka the only STD that can outlast you), so latex sensitivity or not, I'm gonna have to suck it up. Because...

This made me lol.