Little Annoyances

So Thursday I went on saw the Sharks play during the playoffs. It was great, we won and I had a really fun time. There was just one little kink in the night's joyousness.

The most obnoxious lady was sitting behind us yelling the whole night long. Now don't get me wring I love yelling during sporting events, cheering on my favorite players and screaming at the opposition, but she went above and beyond. Every second she yelled advice, pass it to blank, now man up, ok head down the ice. Holy crap lady they have a coach, do you really think that during the game they are like "holy crap I have the puck, but what should I do now? wait I hear a grating voice from the stands, what did she say? That was brilliant, yes I will shoot. Why didn't I think of that?"

I looked back and she looked like a slightly younger version of the villain from Goonies, with a voice that was a smidge deeper than Fran Drescher's. I really wanted to drop my beer on her but since she was behind me it would have been rather obvious, so I restrained myself.

Of course they lost tonight. But they were in Calgary, so maybe her yelling really did help.

Songs of the pathetically sad

So I live in the land of preppies. There is only one bar within walking distance (a must for stumbling home, I hate taking cabs), and it is the saddest thing ever. I went with a girlfriend last week and we started a count of all the old people versus the young people. I was surprised because throughout the night it stayed pretty even.

But I think the big draw, for other people, was the karaoke. The bar was kind of fun, people talking, you could hear laughter, and then the karaoke guy got there. And that's when things took a turn for the worse. It was painful, apparently the only songs you could choose from were old whiny ones that most people have never heard of. I just wanted to put some of these pathetic souls out of their misery, they weren't bad singers but the subject of the songs were painful.

The worst part is I'll go back because it's only four blocks away, and they have a pool table.

More work

So I've been trying to be good about writing for other publications than just the schools. And by trying to be good I mean hoping someone will contact me out of the blue because I haven't sent out a query letter in ages.

Well I guess I should be careful for what I wish for because I now have two articles due in a week for two different places and I really don't have time to do them. Wonderful.

So I will have to pretend to be a journalist for the next week and actually get my shit together.

Also note to self: learn to say no.

Perks

Finally being a journalist has paid off. I got to see the movie "21" a whole day before it came out. The movie was ok but what was really cool was that my name was on a list, I didn't have to wait in line, and I got to sit in a roped off area. But the best thing was that when someone asked why I was so special, I got to give them a haughty look and tell them it was because I was with the press. Which I'm a little pissed at myself for because two seconds after she left I would have told her it was because of the blow jobs, but oh well.

A man's role

After getting a few drinks with some of the reporters from the Daily I headed back to my car (ok it was after getting a hot dog, after sitting around the newsroom sobering up, after getting drinks) I found myself walking in front of this big guy talking loudly on his cell phone. I loved his conversation so much that I slowed down so that I could follow him around for a few minutes.

This is basically what I heard:

"I know you love to cook but that's not the point."
"You just can't do it."
"Listen, even if you love to cook, you're going to train her to expect you to cook for her, and you don't want that."
"You can't have her expecting you to be in the kitchen. That's not the man's role that's the woman's."

Sure I had to walk a little farther but I was so entertained. The guy was so irate. I kind of wondered if he had a girlfriend, and maybe he secretly loved to sew but didn't tell anyone because once again that falls into women's work.

If your friend loves to cook, let him cook. And make sure to invite yourself over all the time so that he can cook for you. There are a shortage of people who love to cook that I'm friends with so I try to encourage them as much as possible.

Sniff...

On Saturday A and I headed into San Francisco to check out the Chinese New Year parade. OK I just really wanted sparklers and thankfully some nice lady we were standing next to gave me one (they weren't as super-amazing as in my childhood memories).

To get to the parade we decided to take public transportation so we drove to Milbrae to catch the BART. I've taken public transportation throughout my life and the smells I usually associate with it are stale sweat, bad breath and B.O. so I was surprised at the scent wafting around the Milbrae BART station. It smelled like freshly baked cookies.

On our way back out we again smelled the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. We looked around but the only restaurant we saw was an In-N-Out, and to my knowledge they don't bake a lot of cookies.

Four days later and I'm still wondering where the smell came from. Will it be there next time? And where can I get some?

Opinions

Damn I've been slacking. But I've been busy doing stuff, no seriously.

With working on the Daily and a job and trying to get my thesis OK'd my food intake has suffered. Lately I've been living off of nutterbutters, coke and noodles, tasty tasty microwavable noodles. I get so much crap from my boss for my eating habits but he's a pseudo vegetarian (I feel vegetarians and health food eaters are weak and can't survive off the stuff that I eat) so I think I eat worse when I'm around him just to get him mad. Oh the things I do to entertain myself.

Anyways I've been trying to think of things that I feel strongly about so that I can write an opinion piece and I've come to the realization that I'm a shallow person that doesn't care about anything.

The first thing I thought about was those damn Helio commercials, "don't call it a phone." If I paid $100 bucks for something and another $50 a month I will call it whatever I want.

Next one I thought of was the left arrow turn light. OK in some places it makes sense but it seems like they are popping up everywhere, if I can see 500 feet down the road can't I just go when I see that it's safe?

And finally I thought of those stupid forwards about the good ol' days. They were better because you were younger and had no awareness about the world around you, things change that's life. I loved the smurfs too but at the same time the American Embassy in Iran was overrun and people were taken hostage. Does that really sound so peachy to you?

Oh well I'll have to work on the opinion thing, some how I have to come up with a coherent idea for it too, so many damn rules.

The pain of a used car

The day after I got my car the engine light went on. THE DAY AFTER I BOUGHT IT! And of course I bought it "as is" so I am shit out of luck. But it still drives ok so I am ignoring it for now (I know I'm a freakin genius), until something catastrophic happens or until I have a real job to pay for stuff.

I took another non-paid writing thing with a weekly paper. And I went to a staff meeting and everyone there seemed to be over 80. How they are still able to get around is kind of beyond me. They could barely hear each other with out screaming "WHAT? What did he say?" Every five minutes I don't see how they are able to hold coherent interviews at all. But I figured why not I need to get more writing in anyways and I love ramen so i don't actually need money anyways.

Well I am off to the dealership to try and beg and plead for them to fix my car for free (I'm sure that will work well, since I'm trying to talk to a used car dealer), wish me luck.

Newish Car

I bought my first used car tonight. Headed over to a pseudo sketchy car dealership handed them a decent sized check and drove away in a white, slightly scratched, 2000 Honda Civic.

I bought my first used car tonight. Headed over to a pseudo sketchy car dealership handed them a decent sized check and drove away in a white, slightly scratched, 2000 Honda Civic.

I've been looking for a couple of weeks since I totalled my car back in December. And I have to admit towards the end there I just wanted the whole ordeal to be over with. I was good I checked out the carfax and test drove the thing no black smoke anywhere, but I passed on the warranty, seems like a scam. Oh well it's shiny and gets me from point A to point B and that's basically what I want.

At least I don't have to drive around the Saturn anymore.

Shady dealings at MacWorld

After a couple of hours wandering the aisles of MacWorld I was tired and starving. So I headed out into the sunny (not quite warm but not that cold) streets of San Francisco and found the Cravery, which makes very tasty hand held pot pies. I took my pastry to a nearby bench and went to town on that thing.

When I could think of other things than food I saw across the street what appeared to be a homeless man that was "helping" people park their cars. And by helping I mean waving them into large obvious spots and then standing next to the back of the car behind the spot so they could tell how big the spot was. After all that hard work he expected payment.

If I had driven I would have been pissed. But I guess if people are willing to pay for such an obvious scam more power to the parking guy. And since I have been hearing more about such incidents people must be paying them or else it wouldn't have caught on. Which in my opinion sets a very bad precedent. What if you don't pay and the homeless guy gets angry and then doesn't something damaging or disgusting to your car?

This is a learned behavior, so those of you that feel the need to pay for some useless help grow a pair and say no.

A sad sad day

My favorite zoo animal has passed away, and no I don't mean Tatiana the blood thirsty tiger. No, Gemina the crooked necked giraffe at the Santa Barbara zoo has passed away at the ripe old age of 21.

I love giraffes. In college a friend said I looked like one and it kind of stuck. Although I often wish I looked like a prettier animal, you are what you are. But anyways it was always fun to go to the zoo and check out this crazy giraffe. She had at least two kids that I know of and her neck was the weirdest thing.

So here's to you Gemina, no longer will we hear shocked squeals from little kids, see old women pointing or hear docents explain for the twentieth time that hour that no Gemina was not in pain and that this is the first reported case in almost a hundred years of a crooked necked giraffe, the last one being in London. You will be missed.

Coffee accessories rock

Coming back from the bars last night we started discussing the ins and outs of Diet Coke and Mentos. When one of the guys mentions the amazingness of non-dairy creamer and fire. Now I'm always a fan of anything having to do with fire so on our way home we stopped by the 24 hour Safeway and bought some non-dairy creamer.

In front of our apartment at about 1:30 am (drenched from earlier rain) we stood in a little circle of five people. Then, each of us holding a handful of the nd creamer, one guy holds a lighter and sprinkles the nd creamer on the flame until it catches, when it does everyone else throws their creamer up into the flame creating a damn big fire ball.

It was glorious.

We did it quite a few times, and every time the flame got bigger and bigger. It was great and I plan on pulling this out next time I go camping. I mean who needs eyebrows anyways?

Damn you Fry's!!

I expect it at some places, mainly the autoshop or bar but not at Fry's, that bastion of capitalist greed.

So there I was was, A was looking for an external hard drive and we were in the computer section. I thought I would see if they had the Asus Eee PC there (because they are freaking cute and I totally want one). I didn't see one but I figured I would ask the helper man because, well hell, they're supposed to help you.

So I ask him if they have the Asus and he asks if I mean Acer, "No, it's the Asus Eee PC its really small about 8 inches."

"Are you sure they make computers? Asus makes motherboards" (a little condescending I might add)

A says yes they make a small computer and the guy totally turns away from me (the person he was supposed to be helping) and starts talking to A and totally believing everything he says about this ultra small linux computer, everything I had already told him and yet I got a condescending ass and A gets a friendly sales person. A, of course, is trying not to laugh because I was getting pissed and he finds just about everything funny. Stupid helper jerk isn't even up on new computers.

We walk away and go look for something else. While both of us are looking at hard drives another salesman comes up to us and says, "Excuse me sir can I help you find anything?"

Little bastard.

Happy New Year! Saturns suck

Ok I don't know if all Saturns suck* but the one that I have been driving for the past week does. A little background:

On Dec 18 I crashed my car into the center divider, that Friday they called me and told me that it was totalled. On Tuesday I borrowed my Dad's Saturn Sky. Now my dad is always trying to get me to like his car, but I've never been a fan. So when I crashed my car I think he was excited that I would finally drive his little car around (I try to take public transport now as much as possible), and realize just how wonderful it truly is.

But sadly there is a slight difference between my father and I when choosing vehicles, he chooses them for how they look and I choose them for how fun they are to drive (ok looks help too but that isn't the deciding factor). But as he was nice enough to let me borrow the car after I had just totalled one I was trying to be a little nicer about my rating but it just wasn't to be.

First off you basically lay down to drive, no matter how I messed with the seat I couldn't fix it. The gages are set quite far in and at some angles you actually can't see the gas gage. The shifter is nice, very easy but not too easy, all the gears are easy to find. First and second gear have a decent amount of power, third is ok but fourth and fifth are completely gutless, stomp on that accelerator all you want there is, sadly, no chance of whiplash. The driving is also too smooth you can't really feel the road. There is a huge blind spot on the drivers side and the radio is pathetic. Oh and it's a convertible, I hate convertibles.

So basically this is a car that tries to look sporty but my old Honda was more fun to drive. I wish my insurance would hurry up so I could get a new car. And by new car I mean a 2000 Honda with hopefully less than 2000 miles on it.


*there is a good chance that I just miss my car and therefore feel that all cars that aren't my cute little mini that gave up its life for me blow.

The tow yard

I visited my poor car in the lot today. I felt like I was visiting a sick patient or something. And I have to say I felt much better about my wreck after seeing the completely thrashed cars that were there. Most of them had something fly through the front window, a crumpled hood and at least one flat tire.

The lot manager and the tow trucker driver gave me pause though. Sure I watch way too many movies but these guys were walking stereotypes. The lot manager was a morbidly obese man who found it difficult to pull his ass away from his chair, so he used an intercom to talk to a guy who was just outside his window. A shiny balding head with a few strands still desperately clinging to his spotted scalp, topped the most spherical body I have ever seen. He also never stopped eating, and I had a feeling that if the food supply ever ran too low the cat asleep on his phone would make a quick substitute. He buzzed me into the tow yard, as I stepped in a wire fence wheeled shut behind me. The tow truck driver from Tuesday met me and I must have been a little dazed then because I didn't realize just how creepy he was. Under what was probably one a blue company ball hat, dark greasy hair hung to his chin. And he never seemed to stand up all the way. He was incredibly helpful but still I just wanted to get out.

I grabbed the few things left in my car and headed back out. I didn't look back, I felt like a traitor abandoning a good friend.

But then I remembered it was just a car and got over it.

Damn concrete and its non-bounciness!

Today was supposed to be great, last day of finals, no work. I could go home and stuff my face and veg out on the couch. But no, that's not how my day ended up.

After finals I headed home and of course it started raining. Driving down I-280 I decided it would be a great idea to take on the center divider. Sadly I lost, but I want a rematch.

OK what really happened was I hit a wet spot, my car spun out, hit the center divider (twice), airbags deployed, and I ended up perpendicular to oncoming traffic. To top it all off I received a fat lip and a few bag burns on my face, and I'm pretty sure I'll be very sore tomorrow. And I forgot my phone so I had to wait for a good samaritan to stop and call CHP.

When CHP got there they closed down all four lanes and had to push my car to the side. It was so sad as pieces of my poor little car were left behind. The tow truck driver doesn't think it's unslavagable but the insurance guy said it was a good possibility. I'd prefer to fix the car as I'm very attached to it, I actually felt bad as I watched it ride away to the tow yard. I swear it looked forlorn.

And then I spent the next hour on Caltrain to get home. And I definitely wont have a car for about two weeks.

SHUT UP!!

Listen I know you are passionate about subject x, but some of us have to be here, some mean person made it mandatory. Please keep your boring ass subject to the maximum 15 minute time limit, or I will rip your head off. Can you not see us sleeping? I'm in the fourth row back, can you see me now? I'm the one doing the sleeping head bob next to the girl that is drooling on herself, who is right behind the guy that is loudly snoring. I know you spent months on this but wrap-it-up, no one cares. The girl before you was nice enough to keep it down to 10 minutes and I almost ran up and kissed her. I don't even know your name and I actively seek your death. SHUT UP!!

Oops

So I love the library. I've always loved the library. When I was little I would go there for hours sit on the floor and stare at musty pages through my over sized glasses. So after so many happy (but yet nerdily sad) hours how can I be so cruel to the institution that was once so kind to me? Yep that's right I, a lover of the library, became part of it's most wanted list.

I somehow managed to rack up $102.50 in library bills.

It started to innocently too. I checked out The Affects of Oral (he he) Satire, for a class, and I read a good five pages out of about 250. So far so good. But then summer comes around and I head out of town and then I moved and completely forgot about this stupid little book. Now it's been six months and a few irate emails from the library and I finally return the book (it took some serious searching but good news I found a pair of shoes that I thought were completely gone). Now every time I head to the library I feel like I have a huge sign on me that reads BOOK THIEF, I swear the librarian glare at me as I walk by.

But my question is do I still owe $102.50? I mean the book wasn't that great.

Flying

I'm not a fan of flying. Don't like going to the airport, I hate taking off and landing is just evil. A huge tin can should not be soaring through the air. But a couple of times a year I suck it up and get on one of those flying death traps and start praying like I haven't for months. This year I'm headed to San Diego for Thanksgiving and so I'm lucky enough to travel on the busiest day of the year.

Flying into San Diego always gives me pause. You'd think in a place with almost perpetual sunshine the airline employees would be a tad bit happier. But last time I was there I got chosen for a random bag check. Which is fine but as I stood at the table, as the security lady rifled through my bag, I noticed a shelf above her head. On this random shelf were two items, a box of latex gloves and the biggest jug of Vaseline I've ever seen.

After seeing that I answered every question with a "yes ma'am," "no ma'am." And it seemed to have worked as I wasn't violated in the name of national security. But ever since then the San Diego airport has always given me the heebie geebies.

Published

It's official, I've finally been paid for writing. Sure it wont cover even one car payment but that is not the point. The editors didn't change that much but they did add a reference from wikipedia that I'm a little peeved about, if they asked I could have found a reputable source.

But I'm still pretty excited. So yeah!!