Friday, October 23, 2009

5 new reasons why San Diego is awesome

  1. I can wear jeans and flip-flops to work every day. (At least at this job.)
  2. Bringing your dog into work is not uncommon.
  3. Saying you work "downtown" here is not the same as saying you work downtown in New York in that your commute isn't 2 hours long.
  4. Burritos.
  5. Beer. San Diego was recently voted the #1 city in America for beer.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Wedding, Part I

My best friend got married a few weeks ago and I was the maid of honor. It was an awesome weekend filled with car towing, scotch drinking, falling, fighting, dancing, and police intervention. Let's recap that weekend, shall we?

Wednesday morning, 8am: Rad Boyfriend and I walk out of my house in San Diego and realize my car is not where I left it. I call the police and they inform me that it's been towed. After 2 hours of phone calls, emails, faxes and tears, RB drives me to work, picks me up later, then drives me to the airport. And all without complaint.

Wednesday night, 11pm: My red-eye to NY is full, RB comes back to the airport to pick me up.

Thursday morning, 4:45am: Cab comes to pick me up and drive me to the airport, where I am told the chances of getting on a flight are slim. I somehow get to Atlanta, and then to NY.

Thursday afternoon: Exhausted and hungry, I arrive at what used to be my childhood home, but is now virtually a brand new house--new kitchen, new bathroom, new floors, new windows, new cabinets, new everything. I am immediately put to work cleaning.

Friday morning: I walk downstairs in my robe and nearly give our contractor a heart attack as he looks awkwardly at my mother, then back to me, then decides the best thing to do is to turn his body completely away from me. Laughter ensues. More cleaning. I spend 3 hours at the DMV. I come home, eat, and resume cleaning the house in preparation for the 20 people we will have over before the wedding the next day. Meanwhile, back in San Diego, Extremely Rad Boyfriend is at the tow yard with the million documents I've sent him, getting my car back for me. (Have I mentioned how awesome he is?)

Friday evening, 9:30pm: Exhausted and filthy, I go get my nails done and practically fall asleep in the pedicure chair. Chinese food at my house with the bridesmaids, all of whom are sleeping over, makes me so tired that I can't keep my eyes open. We finally all get to bed at midnight.

Saturday morning, the big day: I wake up to find that everyone else has been up for over an hour and a half. I take a shower and rush to the salon where everyone is getting their hair and makeup done. We spend 3 hours getting washed, blown, straightened, curled, sprayed, brushed, lined, and photographed. Back at the house, the bride's family arrives as the 7 girls try to get ready in 2 bedrooms. It is a veritable mess of safety pins, hair spray, tears, mascara, tape, heels, bags, bobby pins, and people. People everywhere: photographer people, bridesmaid people, family people, little people (as in children, I wasn't that lucky!!) and more People.

Saturday afternoon: It's pouring rain. The bride is surprisingly calm about all the People and photographers and big wet drops falling from the sky. As the 3pm hour of the ceremony draws near, the People start to leave. We receive multiple phone calls from the groom telling us that the wedding before theirs is running super late, and not to leave yet. Learning that we have at least another 20 minutes, the bride hitches up her skirt and goes upstairs to collect her belongings. She returns with 3 bags on each arm and a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, which she proceeds to drink straight from the bottle. We look around nervously for the photographer. The limo driver is waiting patiently under an umbrella in the pouring rain. We get the call that it's ok to leave, and we get on our way. The limo driver takes us one by one from the front door in the pouring rain and into the waiting limo--the limo that has marble floors. As everyone steps in with their heels, one by one we trip and fall. Hilarity ensues. The limo driver begins to pull away when I remember I've forgotten my speech, the reading I'm supposed to do in church, on the kitchen table. In a series of awkward turns that sends all of us flying around the back of the limo, we get back to my house.... only to find that someone has locked both doors (to which I have keys) and the screen door (to which I do not have a key.) "FUCK!" is the only thing I can say. Someone suggests I read the passage from my iPhone. "FUCK!" turns into "Fuck it." And that's what I end up doing.

In the next installment of this story, I will introduce to you the groomsmen, the priest, the catering staff at the reception hall, and the police.

To be continued.....

Monday, October 19, 2009

One of those rare moments when it makes perfect sense after the fact

Regarding the neighbors' cat

Me: What color was it?
Rad Boyfriend: I dunno, cat-colored.
Me: Like orange?
RB: No. Like.... dark.
Me: Black?
RB: Eehhhh... no, not exactly.
Me: So brown?
RB: Ya sure, it had brown it in.

The next day, said cat walks past us on the walkway.

RB: See? Cat-colored!
Me: Oooohh... yeah, I see what you mean now.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

How to annoy me, alley edition

The alleyway is a new concept for me. Aside from college, I've never lived on a block that had an alley in (on?) it. And even in college, the alley was 10 floors down and on the other side of the building. So moving into a house that is not only directly on the alley, but having my bed mere feet from it, is a bit disconcerting. I'm not used to hearing the whispered conversations of couples that walk past my window at all hours of the night, or the loud cell phone conversations, or the barking dogs, or loud diesel truck engines at 4am, or the bums with shopping carts that troll the garbage cans on trash day. No, I'm not used to all that noise. And I don't like it. Some might even say it annoys me.

That front corner of the house right there, that's where my bed is. See how long that alleyway is? Do you know how many cars drive up and down that alley every day? Many.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

String of bad luck

So I mentioned yesterday that my car got towed a little while back. While I'd like to say that it was a freak, one-time incident, and that my bad luck ended right there, I can't say that. Because it's not true. Oh so ever not true.

Let's backtrack to around the end of September. I knew I was flying home on September 30th for my best friend's wedding, the wedding in which I was the maid of honor, the wedding for which the entire bridal party was getting ready at my family's newly-renovated house. (By the way, a contractor who stays until 11 o'clock at night the day before the wedding to finish the job is an awesome contractor.) I knew I would be crazy-busy before and after the big weekend, so I set up some automated online bill payments so that I wouldn't have to worry about them. But instead of withdrawing the money from my account 2 days after payday like it was supposed to, the bill processing website withdrew the funds my account that day--leaving me with a negative balance for over a week. Awesome.

The wedding weekend was a lot of fun, but that's a story in itself. It involves rain, getting locked out of my house, tripping on marble floors in the limo, reading a speech in church off an iPhone, the bride downing Johnny Walker Blue mere minutes before walking down the aisle, and 10 police officers showing up to the reception. Again, awesome. But let's move in to the next bit of bad luck....

The day I was supposed to leave for the wedding weekend, Rad Boyfriend and I step out of my house and stop short, both wondering the same thing: where is my car? "I parked right in front of you last night," Rad Boyfriend says. "I thought so, too," I reply. In short, my car-- with New York license plates, registered to my father, and with a registration that expired THAT DAY--was towed to a lot that wouldn't release it to me without a) a notarized letter from my dad releasing it to me, b) a current registration, and c) $470. Yeah. More awesomeness. Luckily, Rad Boyfriend stepped in and helped with that situation BIG TIME. But still... not a great experience.

I won't regal you the tales of my stand-by travel nightmares, as you can read about them here and here. I'll just tell you that I didn't make it on a total of 7 flights that weekend.

So I finally get back to The Diego on Sunday night after the wedding. I go to work the next day, and all is well. And then Tuesday morning I'm driving to work when all of a sudden, my car just turns off in the middle of the freeway. The RPM's go all the way to zero, and just as I start to pull over, all the lights on the dashboard come on, the steering wheel locks, and the car just shuts off. In the middle of 6 lanes of traffic going 80 miles per hour. Talk about scary. I manage to pull over to the shoulder, then get the car started while on the phone with AAA. I bring it to the shop the next morning, and luckily it's nothing major--but it's still gonna cost me $200. Awesome, right?

So amidst all the drama, I'm on the phone with my mom, crying about all this money I've had to spend, sobbing that I can't afford all these unexpected expenses, when I suddenly remember: my car insurance (paid biannually, not monthly) is due next month. ANOTHER $370 down the toilet. Fuck me.

Luckily nothing terrible has happened since realizing that over $1,000 will be debited from my bank account in the first two days of November (ah, how I love paying rent).... but I'm keeping my guard up. With my luck lately, I wouldn't be at all surprised if I broke a mirror while walking under a ladder and watching a black cat cross my path.

Monday, October 12, 2009

I'm back

So I know it's been a while, and that I promised to be back sooner than now. But dammit, life got in the way!!

For those of you who still follow what I'm up to, I moved to the City of Awesome (aka San Diego) about 3 and a half months ago. And life has been been pretty fantastic ever since. I moved into a cute little craftsman bungalow with the famous Red, but not after living with the famous Liz for about a month. (A million public thanks to Lizard and her man Nick. Without them, I would've had to share space with strangers. And who wants that?) In summary, here's what I've been doing for the past few months:
  • I went and found myself a man of the Rad variety (rather, he found me);
  • I kicked some ass at Monday Night Trivia;
  • My car got towed and I had to pay a buttload of money to get it out;
  • I've flown to New York and/or the British Virgin Islands for various wedding commitments once a month since I moved;
  • I've spent many hours at various establishments that serve alcohol all over San Diego, including Petco Park and the homes of many friends;
  • I've generally enjoyed the good life.

In closing, I'd just like to say that happiness is definitely not overrated. You just can't stop believin'.

More to follow....