Not dead yet...

Just lazy and sorry for not updating for a long time.  I've been tempted to go on some rants from time to time lately, but I tried not to bore and annoy everyone with my political tyrades.  Now that I have calmed down from my election induced frenzy, I will say Yay Obama!  And Boo hiss to anyone who voted for constitutional amendments that restrict fellow Americans' equal rights.  I will leave it at that, for now.  Warning: more rants may follow...

I don't really have any exciting news or amazing stories to tell.  At least nothing I can think of right now at this late hour (I really need to learn how to go to bed at a normal time).  But my "fanbase" actually complained that I haven't written for a while so I thought I should make an appearance in the blogosphere. 

Recently I have been pondering something, and maybe someone who reads this can tell me.  Please?  Why do toilets in public places have seats with a gap in the front?  They are sort of an oval U shape.  (Why am I describing this?  I'm pretty sure you all know what I am talking about.)  But no one ever has a toilet seat like that in their bathroom at home.  Regular house toilet seats go all the way around.  There must be an explanation for this.  Curious.  No?  Are the U shaped toilet seats cheaper?  Then why don't we all get the cheaper ones?  I can't think of any functional difference, can you?  Please share any wisdom you have on this topic.  You'd be suprised and pretty disappointed in me if you knew how much time I have spent thinking about this...

Now I really have to go to bed though.  But I leave you with this, the Word of The Day (I'm bringing the word of the day out of retirement, yay!):

Strew   Yes.  Strew.  We all have heard this word in some form.  "You could tell it was finals week by the number of papers and books strewn across every surface of her living room."  Strewn, as in scattered, spread, dispursed.  But have you ever heard or used the word in any other tense?  To Strew.  Strews.  Strewing.  Strewing does not sound like a word, but I recently learned it is.  Strewing!  Haha!  I'm not sure why this was as funny to me as it was, but there you are.

Blunt force trauma to the head sucks. Who knew?

So I have been out and about a lot lately... there has been a lot of debauchery and beer, and general madness the past couple weeks.  I have been out of my cave a lot.  I am tired and my liver might fall out soon.

Most recently, I went to Sacramento this past weekend to go to a party.  That's right.  I flew to another city just to go to a party.  Cuz that's how I roll.  (hahahahaha...)  

We all know that I tend to hurt myself when I am drinking.  Minor injuries abound in my life.  I run into things, fall down a lot, twist joints the wrong way.  Cuts, scrapes, bruises, burns, and mysterious aches are very common. 

After 9 days during which I was drinking heavily 5 times, I have several bruises, a slightly messed up knee and wrist, and some blisters.  These are mostly just from walking.  Yep.  I am so retarded I can't even walk without hurting myself.  The wrist thing?  I have no idea what I did to my wrist...

But the worst battle wound of all came from CLEANING.  Sober.  Just picking up a cup or something off the floor, I stood up and smashed my head on the cabinet door that was above me.  See, in Sacramento, the cabinets are all sneeky and they move around opening all over the place and positioning themselves right above you.  So careful if you go there.  

And be careful if you're cleaning too.  Because that's what I was doing and, man, was that ever a mistake.  You don't realize what a threat to your safety these menial tasks can be until it's too late.  I'm just trying to help.  Cleaning is dangerous.

Seems that when you cut your scalp, it bleeds like crazy.  So I was sure I was in some deep shit for a few minutes there.  Lots of blood.  But it finally stopped bleeding and is just a very painful lump.  It's not cool.  I do realize any smart person would have gone to a doctor to get this checked, but nah...  I probably don't have brain damage.  And if I do, what are the chances I would damage part of the 10% that I use?  I'm pretty sure the odds are only 1 in 10.  Or something like that.  So why worry about it?  I was relieved this morning when I woke up.  It's a good feeling to not die in your sleep.  

WHAT? HOW? WHAT?!?

Holy Shit. I decided to google it after writing my last post. The current world record holder for the longest fingernails is this woman, and I don't remember anything like this when I was a kid... The picture in my memory is a faded looking back and white photo of a man with nails maybe half this long, and they were all curly, wavy, like kinda cork-screwy. This is insane.

My comments and questions about the Office Max lady still stand, but they are multiplied by like a thousand for this lady. I mean, this is... How? How can you live with nails like that? Can she eat? She can't hold silverware. Can she wash her hair? There's no way! WTF?

And I add one thought: How does she pee? If she can even unzip her fly... well then what? Drip dry? That would bring a new meaning to 'personal' injury. Ha ha ha... I'm so clever... :)

Do the Chickens have Large Talons?

No, but the lady working at Office Max does.

I wish I had a picture. I really do. But I was afraid of her and if I had dared to try to take a picture with my phone, I think she would have clawed off my face. But she had the longest nails I've ever seen on a human being, other than that guy with the gross nails in the Guinness Book of World Records. I wonder if it's still that same picture of that same guy as when I was a kid? Hmmm.

Well anyway, the woman at the register had these nails. They were probably about 7 inches long, give or take and inch. They were curved. They looked like they would maybe curve around something about the circumference of a baseball, and would go more than half way around. They were painted gold. I couldn't tell if they were real (they can't be real! That's almost impossible to grow them that long!) or fake (no wait... they can't be fake! Who would pay money for something so monstrous! They don't even look good! No salon would do that to you! Right?).

I approached the counter to buy my pens. I was unable to take my eyes off the scary nails. I couldn't understand how she could operate a register with those things. Then I saw. Her other hand, which I had not noticed before, had 2 inch long nails. So she stood there doing her job with her right hand. Scanned my pens, put them in the bag, punched keys on the register, all with the right hand. Meanwhile, she was talking to me (I don't know what she was saying, I was hypnotized by the talons) and waving her clawed left hand around in front of me as she spoke.

Wow. These nails would be nearly crippling for most people. Imagine trying to live life like that. Does she sleep with her hand in a box? If not, how does she not roll over and crush the nails and break them during the night? Does she accidentally slice her own face if she isn't careful? Can she drive a car without them getting in the way? How does she get dressed?! My nails have never been close to that long. Not even close to her "short" nails. But it was hard to do simple things like open a beer can, use the phone, set my alarm clock, change the channels on the tv. Basically anything involving buttons is hard. This lady must be insane.

Maybe she is trying to get her picture into that book to replace the scary guy with the long curly nails. If he's still in there...

Why I hate Starbucks

It might seem weird to interrupt the vacation tales with this post about Starbucks, but it will make sense later.

There are many things I dislike about the evil coffee empire. I will make a list:

The Top 10 Reasons I Hate Starbucks

10. Too expensive for coffee that isn't even fresh ground. I can make fresher coffee myself.

9. Their regular coffee often tastes bitter to me, like it has been burnt. Maybe I just have idiots working at my local Starbucks. But it seems like if you are a coffee place, you should be able to make coffee without fucking it up. They should know not to boil the coffee. Tsk tsk.

8. Have you ever been at a Starbucks found yourself looking out the window at another Starbucks? I have. I've been to more than one Starbucks that was in view of a second Starbucks. Starbucks Starbucks, everywhere a Starbucks. Enough already. Sheesh.

7. The pseudo-chill atmosphere. A coffee place with couches and comfy chairs to sit in... this sounds fabulous to me. I love to go get coffee and laze there on a couch reading or talking to people in a relaxing place. At Starbucks, it's like they tried to recreate that scene, but failed. It comes across as terribly corporate to me. I don't find the place relaxing at all. Or comfy.

6. Lame trendy music. I don't really care if John Maher has a new CD. I also don't care if someone from American Idol does either. If I did care, I would go to a music store to buy it. I don't think I would go to Starbucks. Same applies to any other crap they are trying to shovel down my throat in that place.

5. Iced Caramel Macchiato. This is a drink that should not exist. This is terrible. I Did not know what a Macchiato was. I just thought to myself, "Mmmm Caramel!" It was so bad I had to go back and ask them what the fuck happened to my coffee. My understanding now is that a cafe macchiato is espresso with a small amount of milk in it. Like a latte but with a lot less milk. But it seems that according to Starbucks, it means "upside down drink with almost no espresso." Their concept of the macchiato is that you have a cup of milk, then you pour espresso into it. For some reason, you don't stir it. And if it's a caramel macchiato, you then pour in caramel syrup. Again, no stirring. A hot macchiato sounds slightly ok, but still not really. But Iced? You take cold milk, pour in a barely detectable amount of espresso, and then glob in some caramel syrup that hardens in the cold milk and sinks to the bottom. They shouldn't let people order that. Also, I think someone should let them know that they got it backwards. The real idea of the macchiato (at a real coffee place) is to have espresso, with a touch of milk. Who wants milk with a touch of espresso?

4. The customers are douchebags. NOT ALL OF THEM. OK, don't all get in a huff. We all go to Starbucks, it's impossible to never go there if you are a coffee drinker. We are not all douchebags. But honestly, how many people can you stand to see in one place who are ordering a coffee while checking an email on their blackberry, and/or talking on their cell phone with one of those ear piece things? I'm sorry, but if you are out in a public place interacting with live human beings who are THERE in FRONT of you, and at the SAME TIME you are also talking to someone else on a ridiculous looking cyborg-esque bluetooth thing, you are a douchebag. If I am not at work and I hear you saying things like "at the end of the day," "think outside the box," or "win-win situation," then you are a douchebag. It seems that every time I go to Starbucks, there is at least one of these idiots near me. And as much as I dislike the staff at Starbucks (see below), I feel sorry for them when they are trying desperately to move the line along, but you are too busy "troubleshooting" with your team to FUCKING ORDER YOUR COFFEE ALREADY!

3. The cups are leaky. OK, I've only had this happen twice, but I can't think of another Starbucks grievance to air, and a 'top 10 list' is just more snappy than a 'top 9 list'...

2. The Blatantly Insincerely Super Friendly Staff. "HI THERE! (**GRIN**) HOW IS YOUR DAY GOING? IS IT GREAT? ARE YOU SUPER EXCITED?" This was literally how I was greeted last week when I went to get a coffee. Um, no, I am not SUPER excited. I am normal excited. Which, since I am standing in a Starbucks means I am not even a little bit excited actually... And I know you aren't Super Excited either. You are at work. Your job is to feed people caffeine all day. Let's be honest. It's not SUPER exciting. I don't mean to imply that they should be cranky assholes. No. They have a service job, so some friendliness is required. But there is a limit to how friendly people should be. When everyone at every Starbucks on earth is so over the top exuberantly thrilled to see you, every time you go in there, it's obvious that their corporate employer has made it a policy that they have to be that way. If I needed someone to act "SUPER" excited and wear a pasted on smile, I would go see clowns at the circus.

1. THE SIZES OF THE DRINKS. What the fuck? Can't we just have small, medium and large? Tall. Grande. Venti. I have to feel like an asshole when I order my coffee? Since I live in an English speaking country, I feel retarded asking for a Grande or Venti drink. I don't even know if Venti means anything relating to coffee or a size. It is apparently the Italian word for Twenty. "I'll have a twenty iced mocha!" No. That's nonsense. The smallest drink on the menu is "Tall." WHAT THE FUCK? Anyone with a shred of sanity can't put up with this. I heard once that they also have a secret size, the "Short." But it's a secret, so it is not on the menu. If they would put it on the menu I could maybe get on board with the Tall coffee. If they have short, why don't they tell us about it? Again, WHAT THE FUCK? I just want coffee. I don't want a dictionary and secret insider knowledge in order to be able to order the right size, for fucks sake. One of my general pet peeves is places that have drinks sized "Medium, "Large," and "Extra Large." NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. If it is the smallest drink you have, it is NOT A MEDIUM. it's a SMALL you fucking fucktards! I feel like Starbucks executives must not share my aggravation with this idiocy. Rather than seeing that it is illogical, they were inspired, embraced the concept, and then made it their own. Since it wasn't quite irrational enough for them, they took it to a level no one ever imagined possible. Or wanted to.

I feel better having vented about that. Now I feel like I should take a minute to mention two awesome Starbucks employees. These two guys both made my days better. I want to be fare, and so I reluctantly admit they do not ALL suck:

a. Teenager with cracking voice at Starbucks in Safeway- I was grocery shopping early in the morning, started to have caffeine withdrawal, and so I got a coffee. The boy at the counter was, again, a little too nice for my taste. He asked how my day was going, all loud and smiling. I explained that I was at a grocery store at 9am on my day off only because I had been woken up by my JOB calling me and ruining my late sleep. I was cranky. He then caught my cue to tone it down about 50 notches and was just sympathetic and thankfully stopped talking to me so damn loud. The other really cool thing was that 15 minutes later when I was at the register paying for my groceries, I spilled my coffee drink ALL OVER the place. My pants and shoes were soaked in iced coffee and it was splattered all over the ground. He saw this and felt bad, and he just came over and gave me a replacement coffee for free. Thanks Guy.

b. So funny... I was in Prague. Yes, one time I actually went to a Starbucks in Europe. The thing was that any time I tried to get extra shots of espresso in my coffee in Prague, the people seemed really pissed off at me for that. Oddly upset. So one exhausted day, I saw that green sign and decided to just get a big triple mocha and avoid having to go to three different cafes throughout the afternoon. This place was mobbed. There was about 20 people in the line. They were by default conducting business in English, because most of the customers were tourists. The line was going terribly slow. I almost left, several times. But when I finally got to the counter, this Czech guy was taking orders:

"Hello, how are you doing today and how may I please help you today?" he said in his slow eastern European drawling accent. He had that company mandated smile on his face. He kept chatting a little while he was passing my cup with the order written on it to the next person in the production line. Then he informs me "Yes. Please. This will be (some amount of money I can't remember now) for your coffee today!" I paid. Then, "Thank you very much for your business today. I hope you will be enjoying your wonderful afternoon in the city of Prague." Smiling. He repeated all of this with all of the customers.

No wonder the line was so long! There is no reason for all of that when there are so many people waiting. No way. Smile maybe, say thank you, but otherwise you just move the people along and get them out of there. And I was not at all mad at this kid. I really believe he was doing exactly what his manager told him he needed to do. And I'm sure there is an employee handbook about this too. I think he was scared to not say all this crap to us because he'd get into trouble. That poor boy. The situation was ridiculous. And there were all these other really impatient people barking orders for their skinny half-caf lattes no whip at him. He kept on with his slow deliberate script of pleasantries, with a slightly frightened smile on his face. Struggling to maintain his calm friendly demeanor in the middle of a maelstrom of noise and chaos.

That poor boy.

Prague is Adorable (once you leave the train station)

Let me just say that 18 hours of sleep is a lot. Even for me. I pretty much never sleep that much, unless I am extremely sick or something. So to arrive in Prague and then sleep for 18 hours was a shock, even to me. But in my own defense, I was woken up by extremely loud noises in my hotel about once every half hour. It was the loudest place I've ever been. It was far noisier than any hostel I've stayed at, and that is saying a lot. And this was a hotel.

I was fucking tired, and I hadn't taken my alarm clock out of my bag the night before, so I really had no concept of how long I was sleeping. I would hear someone yell in the hallway, slam a door, or go up or down the stairs (A sound that was compared to 'elephants moving pianos'), wake up, groan, roll over and fall asleep immediately.

When I did wake up, finally, I felt like I had been sleeping for a long time, so I thought it was maybe noon or 1pm. I dug around my bags and found my clock. 6pm nearly. OH SHIT! Where did the day go???

I was almost reluctant to go out into the world and to see Prague at all. Almost. I was also very excited, but I was still a bit on edge after the adventures the night before.

I should back up...

The Praha Holešovice Train Station is not my friend. I arrived at about 11pm and was basically attacked by people I consider shady who were trying to offer me accommodations, and were following me around. They were doing this to everyone. They were kind of creeping me out and they were all way too much in my personal space. As a foreign tourist (which was obvious to anyone who saw me, I'm sure), with luggage and all, I always feel like a target. I absolutely hate walking around in a strange place with luggage, because it makes me feel like I am going to be robbed. And when people are all up in my business like that, this feeling increases exponentially. I was trying to get money from an ATM, and get the hell out of that place and find my hotel... I also hate to take money from an ATM when there are shady people around. That whole robbed thing again.

So I found a corner with a bench and I sat down. I got my papers out with the directions to the hotel, and looked at my map. This worked out well, because the huge crowds of other tourists who had arrived with me slowly made their ways out of that place and the creepy people seemed to follow them. Soon there was almost no one around, except for some random stray people here and there. Most of them were creepy too, but at least there were far fewer of them.

So armed with money and having a vague idea where to go, I located the metro, which was basically right next to where I'd been the whole time. One thing was simple.

But then the god damn ticket machines. There I stood. Staring. I was pretty sure I needed a ticket for my suitcase. I'm wasn't exactly sure because of course this was not in English. But I believed that's what the picture was telling me. But I also saw that this lovely machine only takes coins. Of course I had none. I walked all over the place trying to find a way to break my bills. I went to a couple of windows and was yelled at by angry rail station employees and a VERY angry money exchange man. I even was trying to exchange money if that would get me some fucking coins. He became more angry.

Sigh.

I finally saw people playing little casino type machines and there was a woman near them selling snacks and stuff. I bought a coke. I was very relieved. I headed back to the ticket machines. On my way, I found a frightened Asian girl who looked like she was going to cry. So I asked if she was OK, and she was having the same problems I was just having, but not coping at all. Her English was broken but functional. "I need to take Metro. I need to buy ticket but I try find change for money... Here no one kind!" This was something she said to me about 10 times in the next 10 minutes. "Here no one kind."

I couldn't agree more. But at the same time, I've been in my share of European train stations, and they are usually the worst place in the entire city. So I'm trying not to hate it there. I forced a cheerful smile and told her we'd figure it out together. I took her back to where I bought my coke. She bought a coke too. We went back to the evil machines. Her friend was there staring at the machine confused, waiting for her. So the three of us stood there and tried to decipher it. We agreed we needed tickets for our bags. We could not figure out how to buy them though. I decided I was going to pretend my suitcase was a child and just buy it a child ticket and get the fuck out of there. The other two liked this idea. I got my tickets, and they were buying theirs when the machine ate a bunch of their money. They were pissed. They insisted it was OK now and that I should just go. They knew what to do and they would be fine. I felt bad. But I also wanted to get the fuck out of there...

So I decided that Praha Holešovice is an awful place to be at night. However, when I returned a few days later to make reservations to leave on a train to Vienna, it sucked just as badly. And when I went there again, to actually leave to go to Vienna, it still sucked. The people who work in that place are ill tempered folks who seem very upset when you ask anything of them. Even if it is something that is part of their job. If you ask too many questions about when there are trains leaving... you will be yelled at. "THIS IS NOT AN INFORMATION DESK."

"Well, it is... actually... it says it is here on your window.... alright then I'll just take that first train you mentioned... please stop yelling and throwing your hands in the air!"

So anyway, I was a bit timid at first to go face the city of Prague. But I was also suffering from a terrible caffeine headache, and I was starving to death. So I went out the door and started walking in a random direction to try to find food and coffee.

It was lovely. I loved it there almost immediately. It's such a cute city! The buildings are colorful, the views almost everywhere are nice. Pretty much the first thing I saw after going outside and walking for a minute was this:


Don't let the dark clouds fool you. It was actually warm and very nice outside (rained later on but only for a little while). It was a great evening. I got my coffee, had some potato cheesy things, and then tried to get a general layout of the town.

When I say I tried to get a general layout of the place, this means I walked around lost as shit for a long time trying to figure it out. I had read in my book that the Old Town was something like a maze and that it's really easy to get lost in there. NO! I have a great sense of direction, this will be a piece of cake.

I proceeded to go in a complete circle, thinking I was going somewhere... Then later on I went in another circle. A different circle than the first one... But wow. I felt dumb. But it was all fine and good. I didn't care. I was happy everywhere I went so I didn't mind much that I was going in circles. I had a couple beers and then I minded even less. I did manage to find my hotel too. It was a very long walk. But I made it. Then the next day I discovered that if I had taken that other street, I would have been at my hotel in 15 minutes instead of an hour. Oops!

I won't ask for directions and you can't make me!!! HAHAHA.

Aside from my poor sense of direction, I did really love that place. It is a charming city. It's people are quirky and usually very nice (except the ones in the train station). The history and general character of the place are very endearing. Not to mention that Czechs drink more beer per capita than any other nation in the world, and they have delicious beers there. Also let's not overlook the fried cheese. I had a lot of fried cheese there. Honestly, a lot of places had little else to offer me since I don't eat pork or beef. But in a land with so many different varieties of fried cheese, you will never hear me complain.

I know I will go back to Prague again, and I look forward to it.

My view while drinking coffee

Memorial to the Victims of Communism

A Cubist Lamp Post! Hahaha!

www.lizthoughts.gov.www\lizthoughts

Does anybody know what happened to Kinderüberraschung eggs? I love these little chocolate eggs with toys inside. I was obsessed with them during my semester abroad in Germany. I am always excited to get them whenever I am in Germany, and usually can find them all over Europe. But this past trip they were nowhere to be found. They had been replaced with Kinder Joy eggs which were kind of similar, but you open a plastic egg and eat its contents with a little spoon. The real deal is a chocolate egg, which is hollow, and contains a plastic yellow yoke which has a toy inside. This Kinder Joy nonsense is more work . I still got a toy, but I didn't get Joy. It's a scam, i tell you. If anyone has information about this, please share. Tell me they didn't discontinue them!

In Iceland, you have to pass through security with a metal detector in order to leave the airport after arriving on a flight.

I resent places with names that begin with the word "the." The Ukraine. The Gambia. The Hague. The Sudan. Why???? It's awkward and I oppose this. Such as South Africa, and the Iraq, and everywhere like such as and.....

I make exceptions to the above rule. Where there is a plural involved, "the" is allowed. The Hawaiian Islands. The Cook Islands. The Netherlands. The United States. Also, certain other things make sense with "the" like the Czech Republic, The Russian Federation.

If you accidentally open the disc tray on your DVD player, and spray WD40 straight into where the lens is, it will not work anymore.

I would like to see a Canadian somewhere outside of North America who is not clearly marked with a red Maple Leaf somewhere on his/her clothing and/or bags. I am pretty sure I never will though.

Sometimes I feel like Donnie from the Big Lebowski. Only partially aware of what is going on around me, and getting yelled at all the time for no apparent reason.

If you are randomly selected for extra screening at the airport, or happen to make the mistake of setting off the metal detector, a stranger will suddenly become intimately familiar with every inch of your body. I mean LITERALLY every inch. There are certain inches of my body that I prefer not to have thoroughly felt by a strange 55 year old woman in an airport. "Listen, this is awkward. I've only just met you and we've basically gotten to 3rd base already. And you're not at all my type, since I'm not gay. So... um... please finish violating me as quickly as possible, because I have a flight to catch. OK?"

In other countries, apparently you don't actually have to remove your shoes to go through security. I didn't know. I just assumed. I got laughed at...

My cell phone service was shut off for an entire day this week. I was aggravated so much by this. I needed to use the phone many times that day. They finally turned the phone back on and so many people called me that I wanted it turned back off again.

I am curious why there are 20 Walmart shopping carts in the parking lot in front of my apartment. They are all tidy too, pushed together into 2 lines, similar to how they would be at the store. There were none one day; the next day, about 20. Odd.

It takes far longer to write a text message than it does to call someone. In a shorter time, you could convey a ton more information if we would just call them and speak directly to them. Yet for some reason, we all text people. A lot. I do it too. I'm not sure why, but I do. A lot.

In England, the word "fanny" does not mean ass. It refers to female genitalia. If you want to see a lot of horrified and confused faces, find a group of Brits. Go somewhere with a lot of tourists. When you see someone wearing one, point and comment that you think fanny packs are tacky and terribly unflattering. Wackiness will ensue.

Liz+Reykjavik+beer=tired-(sleep/dysfunctional)x Airports suck

Reykjavik is bad for sleep.

Of course I had to have one night of fun in Reykjavik! It's light out in the middle of the night... the bars don't close till the morning... what is Liz supposed to do? Liz has to go drink too much beer and stay out all night! I would have considered myself a total failure otherwise. And it's just so easy to stay up all night when it's not dark outside! Was this good for my confused and tired body and my sleep schedule? Of course not.

So out on the town I went, with three nice Australians I met in my hostel. I'm not sure what the deal is with Australians, but they seem to always be everywhere but Australia. I could be wrong. I've never been to Australia. But every other place I've ever been, there have always been strange numbers of Aussies around. Curious. But they are always cool, so I don't mind. It's just odd to be out in a group of Australians when I'm in Iceland.

Me drinking beer with Australians

But anyway, we went out into the bright night to drink lots of beer. We had fun. We went to a pub, and then we went to a club that I didn't think would let me in... I was not dressed to perfection like everyone else. I was my typical disheveled self. But they didn't stop me! We stayed all night, and I met some entertaining Icelandic people, most of whom were so nice it amazed me. Fun times.

Next day... sleeping. Then up all night again! Irish pub... was accused of being from Greenpeace and being there to criticize the country's policies on whaling. Which I was not even a little bit interested in. That guy ended up being my pal and buying me beers. And seemed like he was going to get into a fistfight with another guy who was staring at me. Whoa! Ok, maybe I should leave now! :)

Alas, I was off to the airport just a couple hours later. Sad.


Travel is bad for sleep.

The next day was difficult. I had an early flight to Frankfurt. The bus to Keflavik airport was late. We arrived to see an unending sea of people trying to check in. It didn't look good for me. It was the kind of line that I think you wait in in Hell. You can't ever see the front, and for some reason it rarely moves.

Did I do any souvenir shopping? Did I exchange my Kronur to Euros? No. I barely made my flight. When I finally checked in, the airline agent told me that I needed to run to my gate. She was very stern and clear about this. She didn't mean not to dawdle. She meant I must literally RUN the whole way across the airport or else they were going to leave without me.

I hate to run. I prefer to stroll leisurely. Even better than that, I really love a nice sit. And whenever possible, why sit if you could be laying down? That's what I always say. I am a lazy fuck. So running across the airport with my unnecessary winter coat and warm clothes and carrying my bag... well, it sucked. But I made my flight. I couldn't sleep though. :(

From Frankfurt, I was to make my way to Prague. I had no reservations. I had not checked schedules. I was fairly sure I was going to end up somewhere unintended for the night. But fingers crossed, I just showed up. I figured I could do a lot worse than getting stuck in Germany. Plus I've been in some wretched train journey fiascoes before and I survived. Hey, at least I wasn't in France. Right? Anything is better than that...

So I arrived and knew I was going to have to haul ass if I was going to make this work. So I didn't exactly run (I was still tuckered out from my morning sprint). But I power-walked the hell out of that airport and went straight to the train station. I was extremely lucky to learn that there was a train leaving in 7 minutes that with 2 very tight connections would get me to Prague that night. YAY!

Seven minutes. This would have been plenty of time. But remember where I'd just been. I was hungover, dehydrated, hungry, sooo thirsty, had to pee, and nearly dead on my feet. So I sprang into action. Bathroom now! Done! Buy water and anything at all to eat while on this 9 hour train journey! Done! RUN DON'T MISS THE TRAIN! Done! Success!

The whole day was a series of running, then being in an uncomfortable seat for many hours... repeat as needed. But I got to Prague. Door to door, it was something like 18 hours. And on these trains, I got almost no sleep, although I couldn't understand why I was awake. I recommend NOT staying up all night before an 18 hour journey across Europe. I also recommend that if you are going from Reykjavik to Prague, you just fly all the way to Prague rather than trying to save a little money. And 2 minute train connections, while completely possible, are very unpleasant.

After a mini-nightmare trying to get out of the Prague train station (not a cool place late at night, to be honest), and figuring out the metro ticket machines that were designed by the devil, some confused wandering of streets I checked into my hotel. I went to sleep nearly immediately. I proceeded to sleep for 18 hours.

I woke up at about 6pm. I was right on track to conquer my jetlag...

My photos are online

Still will keep up with the blog about the trip, but I have been busy. Just a quick update to anyone who wants to see my pics, they are here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/lizwilliams7

And no, in spite of how these pictures make things seem, I was not actually drunk the entire time.

:)

More Iceland!

See? It's not really covered in ice! It's very green in the summer. If the sun had been shining, you would be dazzled by the bright greenness of this picture.

So continuing where I left off, I got up very early on my second day in Iceland, because it was the day of my Superjeep tour. I left Reykjavík early to go off in this huge Jeep with gigantic wheels to see some of the country outside of the city for the day. This trip was fabulous. If you are ever in Iceland, I really insist that you do something like this. I wholeheartedly recommend you go here or here and book yourself a nice little trip, and if possible request that you go with a man named Gummi. Yes, that's right, Gummi. His name is actually Guðmundur Sigurðsson, but being a smart man he figures no English speaking foreigner can pronounce his real name. He is quite right. So he goes by Gummi, and he is really a great guide.




This is Gummi.






Something that is really striking about Iceland, to me, is the people there. Everywhere I have gone, I have met the nicest, friendliest people. They all seem to have a really strong sense of pride in their country, and they always are very happy to tell you about Iceland. Sometimes when you meet an Icelander, they seem very serious and shy. But they really are not. Once you start talking to them, all kinds of interesting facts come pouring out of these people. They are very generous people, proud of their history, their city, their country, their culture, their drinking water, their low crime rate, their cucumbers, and their chocolate milk. And a million other things I can't think of right now. Gummi is no different, although this is of course his job. But he is also clearly a very proud Icelander, filled to overflowing with knowledge. We spent nearly 12 hours with him and I don't think any of our strange questions went unanswered.

So anyway, off we went in Gummi's jeep, to see and learn all about Iceland. Huge fields of lava rock, waterfalls, forest, mountains, the bay, rivers, volcanoes... so much to see. It was amazing.

You have to love a place where there is just steam rising from the ground all over:

and where they have RED GRASS! I seemed to be the only one there who was totally amazed with the red grass, but I am not sure why. I mean, it's grass. And it's red. It's totally the wrong color! have you seen red grass before? Probably not. And it's just there, growing in patches in the middle of the normal green grass, minding its own business. Pretending it's not completely the wrong color...

After miles and miles of lava, hotsprings, a geothermal plant, a waterfall, red grass, and an eternity of driving through billions of rocks, we reached Langjökull. Langjökull is "the long glacier" where we went snowmobiling. It is the second largest glacier in Iceland, and I heard later that it is sitting right on top of a volcano (not shocking since Iceland is really more of a pile of volcanic activity than it is an island). If global warming does not melt the whole glacier first (a real possibility), then one day they expect this volcano to erupt, melting the whole glacier, and suddenly sending torrents of water down hill to destroy a nearby village. Sure, this might not happen for hundreds or a thousand years... But I think I might move to a different village if I were them...

And here let me explain how much of a disgraceful coward I am. There I was, standing on the edge of a glacier. Looking at white snow and ice as far as the eye can see. Knowing that I am going out there onto that endless plain of white... on a snowmobile. I had never been on a snowmobile. I assumed this would be a disaster. I'm not sure why I had zero confidence in my snowmobiling ability, but I did. I was incredibly relieved to learn that we were to go in pairs. One would drive out to the middle of nowhere, then the other would drive back. I'll take the return drive please!! (hopefully I will not have to drive back either...)

John, a fellow tourist from England, was happy to drive. So off we went over the glacier, out into the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, we were not going terribly fast. But snowmobiles are kind of tricky to control, you see. They don't necessarily turn quite when you want them to. And then you lean into the turn to prevent it from flipping over, but it still feels like it will. And here out on this glacier, there were big puddles of ice water (because it was summer) and cracks in the ice where this water was running downhill, slicing a crevasse on it's way. I didn't really care to end up in a big puddle of ice water or fall into a crack in the ice. I also didn't want to lose the group and get lost out there. Basically, this whole thing terrified me, and I did not even want to go. But everyone else insisted I go.

I spent the outbound portion of the ride alternating between keeping me eyes tightly closed and gripping the handles fiercely, and peering out of my helmet to make sure we weren't about to plummet to our death. I was unreasonably scared. I am not sure why. But I just was. So we stopped for a bit out in the middle of nowhere, you could not see a thing except white in every direction, because we were in the clouds way up there. The sun did come out for a little bit! It was lovely with the blue sky and sunshine, and the silence. Not one thing out there to make noise other than the wind, and us. Total isolation. I liked it there.

John had had a lot of fun driving the snowmobile out there, so in spite of all the protests from everyone else, I graciously let him drive back too. I was less scared of getting lost now, because our guide, Ása, was on top of things and made sure we didn't ride off into our own demise. But still, I was sure I would somehow get us killed. No thank you. I spent the return part of the trip nearly as terrified as before, but with my eyes open a little more often. Then it happened. Neither of us were sure how this happened, because there wasn't any terribly large rut in the ground, and we weren't really turning, but suddenly we were turned over, laying in the snow, with the snowmobile on top of our right legs. The very thing I had been so scared of had happened.

There, pinned under the snowmobile, on a glacier, in the middle of nowhere, I began to laugh uncontrollably. The others dismounted and came running. The other members of our tour group were horrified and scared, and they thought we were hurt terribly. They asked if we were alright, and we said we were. (I, between gales of laughter.) And they asked if I was able to get up, and I said I could not because my leg was pinned under the snowmobile. Katie, a really nice lady from Ohio, was so scared. They were trying to lift the snowmobile off of us and she expected my leg to be broken, or bloody under there. Nope. It was fine. We were both 100% unharmed by this accident.

It was the least painful or frightening accident I've ever experienced on any kind of vehicle in my life. I've crashed and fallen over in boats, on bicycles, a golf cart once, skis, and not to mention actual car accidents. All of these other incidents had involved some sort of pain. Not this time. I just landed softly on some snow. It was really no big deal, and I was laughing mostly at my own stupidity.

My eyes were wide open the rest of the way back and I even let go of the handles for a while. Once I wasn't scared anymore, it was SO FUN! If I ever have the chance to go snowmobiling again, I will actually try to drive it!


So we left the glacier and headed back across miles and miles of rocks. I've never seen so many rocks in my life. They were all just left there by the glacier, which is continually shrinking. It isn't really what I would call a beautiful landscape, but it's truly amazing to see it. That's some tough terrain.

Our next stop was at Þingvellir National Park (the Þ thing is pronounced like an un-voiced 'th' like at the beginning of the word 'thing'.) This was a beautiful place where the vikings had originally set up their annual national assembly where laws were created and communicated to the people's representatives that were sent to the assembly, and disputes were settled. It is also sitting right on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge which is where the North Atlantic and Eurasian tectonic plates meet. This is a huge fault-line that runs down the center of the atlantic ocean. It also runs right through Iceland. It is why Iceland is there, actually. As the two plates separate, lava comes oozing up and hardens, creating land. It's a really interesting fissure in the earth to see. There is also just a generally beautiful patch of land here to look at, including these green grassy patches, and blue clear waters (and Iceland's largest lake).

Interesting fact: Iceland has an average of 150 earthquakes EVERY DAY. So small you usually never feel a thing. And all the houses and buildings are required to be built to withstand a minimum level 7 magnitude earthquake without collapsing.

So then we returned to Reykjavík after a long full day that was both fun and informative. It was spectacular and filled with fascinating Viking history. You all know me... I love them Vikings... ;)

Upon my return to my hostel, I attempted to relax for a while because I was quite tired. But no no, that was just silly. Of course I wasn't going to sleep! It was time to hit the town and begin the night-long mission to drink lots of beer.

This is the LONGEST post ever. And I have to go to a barbecue now! So I'll continue this another time.

UPDATE: OOPS! MY BAD!
I have since learned that the glacier I went to is not the one on top of the volcano that is going to erupt and melt it at any time and destroy a nearby village. Turns out, that was an entirely different glacier somewhere else in Iceland. They have a lot of glaciers, and the whole place is a bunch of volcanoes stuck together, so it is easy to get this confused. Apologies.

YAY ICELAND!

So after my frantic 3 days at home, I was off to the "Land of Fire and Ice." I can't even describe my excitement about going back to the land I love. I was in Iceland three and a half years ago and fell in love with the place. I have wanted to go back ever since. The first trip was in the middle of winter. It was COLD and it snowed the whole time, although they insisted that was not typical weather, and it was dark most hours of the day. Did I mention it was cold?

At long last I returned in the summer. To see this crazy place in all its glory. I was ridiculously excited by this trip. I could not wait to see the contrasts between winter and summer. I could not wait to go out into the countryside to see the green country that was a vast expanse of white last time. To see the sun shining! And of course there is the city with the crazy nights of partying that never end... So much excitement, I could barely contain myself. Once I was checked in at the airport, waiting to leave, I was literally jumping up and down!

Iceland does not disappoint.

I arrived at about 6am. The sun was shining brightly. Immediately it was clear that this was not the same place I visited the last time. Last time I arrived at 6am and it was total darkness, and would remain so for another four or five hours. Not in summer. No way baby, No pitch blackness this time!

The ride from Keflavík (where the airport is) to Reykjavík was amazing for me. This is because I have been on this exact route before. Twice. But it was just blackness with some lights here and there both other times. This time I could see what was there. We rode along the coast with clear blue waters on my left, and a bizarre landscape of lava rock and green moss and grasses on my right, complete with a lovely mountain backdrop. The mountain and lava terrain were made even more dramatic when the ominous black clouds appeared overhead.

When I arrived in Reykjavík, the sun came back out to greet me, and it was surprisingly warm. I stashed my bags in the luggage room at the hostel and ventured out to wander a bit, and get some much needed food and (of course) coffee. And just to look at it. Green trees, grass, loveliness. A stark contrast to the white and grey of my previous visit.

I was exhausted. A four hour "overnight" flight from Boston to Reykjavík... It is not good for the internal clock to leave at 10pm, fly four hours, and arrive at 6am, while your brain thinks it is only 2am... needless to say i did not really sleep that "night" because I never really had a night at all. After a couple hours of coffee, waffles, walking, sitting, looking... it was nap time. I was just waiting for my hostel to give me a bed so i could sleep.

Finally I got my key and I was off to sleep, after a very frustrating long conversation with an insane Austrian woman.

A few hours later, I woke up and got cleaned up and went out for an evening on the town. This was, by far, the most tame and relaxed evening I have ever spent in Reykjavík. If you don't like long nights of partying and drinking and general insanity, this is not the place for you. Oh Reykjavík, dear to my heart, please be kind to my liver...

But this time I had to get up early the next day (7:30am... ugh...), and having only gotten a few hours of sleep that day I knew I could NOT manage an all nighter. I was proud of myself for avoiding that scene completely. I just walked around the city, gazing happily at the colorful buildings, and houses with bright colored rooftops, and the shining sun, the beautiful harbor, and, of course, the beautiful people. And I ate a small cheese pizza that cost about $40, had some beer, and began to wonder... What time is it???

You never seem to know what time it is in Iceland. The state of light or dark outside give you no indication. Places don't seem to close ever. It reminds me of Vegas, where there are no clocks and the casinos have no windows. You never see the sun set (or rise again) because all evidence of time passing is kept hidden from you. Also, I usually don't wear a watch. I forgot to bring it on my vacation. That was rather dumb on my part.

I asked the bartender what time it was, and it was nearly 1am. OH NO! My bus... I really wanted to catch the last bus back to the hostel because it would be quite a long walk. And so much for getting to bed early. So I ran off into the night to try to make it to my bus. I missed it. But look at what i did see:


That's right. I took that picture at 1am. You see how a gal could lose track of time and miss the bus, right?

So anyway, I began to walk back to the hostel. No big deal, just about a 30 minute walk from where I was. Not the end of the world. But then I saw it. My bus. Bus no. 14, right in front of me. Why is my bus here? It was not supposed to be. But I got on and asked the driver if he was going to the Reykjavík city hostel, or was I on the wrong bus? And it was the bus 14 that goes in the opposite direction. DRAT! Oh alright. I thanked him and got back off the bus.

He shouted after me to come back. I did. He explained that he was finishing the route at (Someplace I can't remember or pronounce) and then he was finished for the night, and he had to drive all the way back the other way, to (Someplace else I can't remember or pronounce) so he would be driving near the city hostel. Not to it, but very close. He could just drop me off on his way, and it would be a much shorter walk.

I am an American. Here in the US, you don't really want to do this. For one thing, no bus driver would really offer to take you somewhere off of the normal route. And for another, if he did, you have a pretty good chance of being attacked/robbed/abducted... who knows what. But this was Iceland! I tried so hard to get into trouble last time I was there. My conclusion was that you can not get into trouble in Iceland. Also, I was tired. I had been walking a lot that day, lots of cobblestone streets, lots of hills, boots with heals... achy feet. So I though, what the hell?

As I rode in the bus, one of the other passengers was chatting with me, asking lots of the usual questions... "Where are you from?" "Why are you in Reykjavík?" (The Icelanders often seem surprised and confused by foreign visitors) "Really? You are on vacation and you wanted to come here?" "Really? You are here alone? You are very brave!" I laughed because this is the safest place on earth, nearly. No bravery required to travel to Iceland alone.

Then he got off the bus, and there were no more passengers. Just me. And then the voice of reason started. OH FUCK. Now that was brilliant, Liz. Oh yeah let me just blab all about myself and how I am in Iceland all alone. Now I'm on a bus that is out of service, and I don't know where I am, and I have no cell phone, and this bus driver could take me literally anywhere and do anything to me right now. And now because I'm sooooo smart, he knows no one will be looking for me. Ever. I begin to eye the windows and doors and wonder if I can open the doors by force, or if only the driver has that power. The window? "Neyðarútgangur." That looks like it means emergency exit, right? Oh there's the window breaky thing to get out in an accident...

Strange things go through your mind. Then the bus driver called me to come up by the front of the bus. I was reluctant to move away from the neyðarútgangur. But I also was trying to act casual and not piss the man off. So I went and sat near the front but out of arms reach. He started to talk to me about Reykjavík, and how nice the weather was that evening, and pointed out landmarks to me along the way. Once we were back in the city where I recognized things, my panic level went down a little. And he took a side street to go right past the harbor so I could get a nice view of the sunset, and explained to me that it would set completely in about 20 minutes, but it would still be quite light out, and then it would rise again in about an hour or so afterwards. And how they are losing 9 minutes of daylight every day since the solstice... etc. Very friendly. Then he told me about his daughters and his wife, and at last pulled the bus to a stop and opened the door.

"Just walk down this street and then at the end turn left. One minute later you will be at your hostel."

You mean, you aren't going to murder me? Yay! I thanked the nice man and got off the bus and scurried down the street, while the very innocently kind man drove home to (that place I can't remember or pronounce) where his wife and little girls were probably sleeping. Simultaneously I felt so relieved and also so stupid. Gee, Liz. Overreact much??

I reiterate that you can not get into trouble in Iceland.

Ocean soothes the soul

I am home and not sick or injured anymore. I got home really late Wednesday, and have pretty much been sleeping for 2 days. I am doing well now. But this is really not interesting. Let me back up to everything I skipped these past couple weeks!

My first stop on my vacation was Massachusetts. I visited my mom, saw some friends, and went to Cape Cod to see my relatives that were vacationing there. My aunt, uncle, cousins, and my cousins' kids (whom I'd never met before) were all there. It was a frenzy of activity (anyone who has ever spent time with 3 young kids and 8 "old" kids all in one house can imagine). But it was really great, and I had a nice time at the beach, and it was really fun to meet my new young cousins.

There is something about ocean waves... I think it's because I grew up in New England with water everywhere. I spent so much time as a kid at a lake, splashing around, swimming, sailing, canoeing, etc... And the ocean is right there. Being either at or in the ocean was a fairly regular occurrence. Now I live in the middle of a desert. We have swimming pools and man-made lakes with pretend beaches. So I get a kind of discontented feeling from time to time. I start to feel a need to see ocean. An internal unrest.

So it was wonderful. Standing with my feet buried in soft sand, staring out at the ocean, listening to the waves rolling in. Ahhh. Peaceful again.

Wieners everywhere...

Sorry, that's not that funny... but I have an immature sense of humor i think. :)

I am in Vienna, Austria, in german this is Wien, and the people who live here are Wieners... hahahaha.... ok sorry, enough of that!

So I have been a combination of busy, lazy, drunk, lost, tired etc... for some time now and didnt get a chance to write. No, I am not dead. I am pleased to say that I managed to not get swallowed by a glacier!

I should back up I think...

My first stop on my trip was lovely Massachusetts where I visited home and went to cape cod. That was nice because I got to see family I haven't seen in years.

Then I went to Iceland. Iceland was AMAZING. Beautiful in the summer. And it's just a crazy wacky place. I absolutely love it there. If I had unlimited money, I would go all the time. I went on an all day journey all over to see the bizarre landscape of that country. I saw volcanoes, lava fields, hot springs, lakes, glaciers... it was great. And I went snowmobiling on a glacier, which was why I thought I was going to end up dead in a glacier. But no fatalities! One minor crash, but it was more funny than serious. I will write more about all of this when I am home and there isn't a bunch of angry people staring at me wanting me to get off the computer...

I went from Iceland to Prague, which I at first did not like. But it really grew on me and I loved it there. I really fail miserably as a tourist, so I missed a lot of those really "important" touristy sites, I am afraid. I had an amazing time though, didn't want to leave, and will happily return some day. Very charming and lovely place.

Now in the land of Wieners, resurrecting my rusty German skills, drinking beer. Looking at palaces, deciding I would rather not go to another palace ever again in my life if possible, getting lost in a hedgemaze! Meeting cool people, having fun.

Today, however, was cold and raining, and I was TIIIIIIIIRED. I was out drinking till 5am last night, I am catching a cold, and my feet... My feet are in a terrible condition. My normally comfy shoes were defeated by use and abuse and they began to destroy my feet a couple of days ago. I have blisters and cuts. I also have an ingrown toenail that is totally out of control. I am pretty distressed by the size and color of my toe. I just try to ignore it and I keep on going. So...

Liz did nearly nothing today. My day consisted of only this: I walk in the rain, some yummy Falafel which had all kinds of strange things in the wrap (never had cabbage and saurkraut with my falafel before, and there was some stuff that I was unable to identify buried in there too). I then had great deal of coffee to try to get some energy to be productive. When the coffee failed, I resumed my mission to find bandages for my bleeding feet. Which i finally found. YAY! Then I returned to the hostel, (again, long walk in the rain) read my book, took a nap. The end. What a waste. But I am great at wasting time. It's probably the thing I do best!

Now my time is up and those people are still staring at me, waiting, looking like they are slowly losing their will to live. So I am going to try to get to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight!

Good Bye

No no, I am not going anywhere. And No, I didn't forget I had a blog.

I had finally gotten over my SARS that had me in such bad shape for several weeks, and just when I was feeling good, a few days later I caught some horrible tonsillitis. Technically, it was pharyngitis, because not only were my tonsils totally fucked, but so was my whole throat. I have never seen such a disgusting scene inside my throat.

I am better now.

I have had other work related things occupying my attention since then, and I have just not had time/energy to write.

I try not to write about my work on here, because... well... I just don't think it's good form to write about my employers, since if I offend them they can fire me.

But this was just such a huge deal I can't not mention it. My company just closed down most of it's branch offices, all at once, without warning. Nearly 200 people lost their jobs. My job just got turned upside down, because my function is to provide assistance to all of these 200 people who aren't there anymore. I am not entirely clear about what will happen to my job. That hasn't been figured out. Most things haven't been figured out. I will withhold my comments about that.

Mainly I just want to say this to those who we just lost:

I know most of you. I have been talking to you all on a near daily basis for years now, and I feel like many of my friends just got taken away. It's very sad for me. There is now a creepy void where your phone calls used to be. Most of you were really good to me, and I will miss your kindness and humor.

In my opinion, when people have given years of their time and hard work, they deserve some respect and compassion if circumstances force them to be let go. Most of you know exactly what I am referring to, so rather than going on a detailed rant and getting fired, I will simply add this:

You all worked really hard at a difficult job, and you gave a lot of your time. A lot of you were still at work today, unpaid, because you CARE. I see this, and I know you deserve way more than you got, and I thank you for your years of dedication and hard work. What makes me really sad is that I have a feeling no one else has said these things to any of you...

So. Hopefully I don't get fired. Then again, if today is any indication of what work will be like from now on... well, it might not matter that much.

What may or may not make many of you laugh: I have not had to deal with our customers directly in over 2 1/2 years now. I spent a lot of my day talking to them today. I hate it so much I can't describe it. You guys deserve some kind of reward for dealing with them all the time and not committing any violent crimes.

An hour to kill...

The Thai place isn't open till 5pm. Which seems strange. But I'm pretty sure they were open earlier today and are closed now, and then will open later. After calling and being confused, I looked on their website and they have the most complicated hours of operations I've ever seen. I still don't understand when they are open after looking it up. It's more complicated than a bank's hours in Europe. So now I'm sitting here trying to decide if I should clean my kitchen and then cook something? Or just wait till 5?

I am just gonna wait. I'm lazy.

I don't really watch ESPN much, so little did I know they air the National Spelling Bee on there. I'm confused about how this is a sport, but then again neither is poker. I also never realized the National Spelling Bee would even be worth watching. I've never watched it in my life. I think I am going to start watching it now though. Please anyone who reads this, click HERE and read this and watch the video. It is soooooooooo funny. Thank you Murderface, for making me laugh my ass off as always.

I was in a spelling bee once when I was in middle school. It was humiliating. They arranged us alphabetically. This made me happy cause I could just relax in the back row for a while and I wouldn't have to go for a while (I was usually last in anything alphabetical). You know, ease myself into the situation. But then they threw a wrench into my whole game plan by going in reverse order. I had to go first! This totally ruined my Zen. So feeling very un-Zen, I walked up to the microphone in front of a whole lecture hall filled with people who were staring at me. And I had to spell Apprentice. I had absolutely no idea how to spell that word for some reason. I guessed poorly, thinking it had an "IS" at the end (I know... I don't really know what I was thinking... I think I just choked under pressure). So I was eliminated about 30 seconds into the spelling bee.

SHAME.

As I sat in the failure section and watched the rest of my class spell words, I was horrified by the fact that I knew how to spell every single other word that they were given in the rest of the bee. I'm not even trying to make myself seem cooler than I am right now (I'm talking about a spelling bee from 7th grade here, so clearly I've come to terms with how lame I am). It is the honest truth that I knew every word. This is very typical of things that I do. I make a jackass out of myself, and everyone thinks I'm a retarded moron, but in truth I'm really pretty smart. No, really! I know you'd never ever guess it in a million years, but I'm actually not retarded! And I still feel humiliated by this miserable spelling failure, because I hate losing. And I really hate looking stupid. So losing at a mental challenge, in front of the whole rest of the 7th grade, was very traumatic for me. Obviously. I'm still upset, and I've had nearly 20 years to get over it. Some scars never heal.

On a positive note, I will never misspell the word apprentice again in my life, even though I truly truly hate that word.

And while I'm on this subject: Fuck you Donald Trump! Forcing me to have flashbacks of my humiliation over and over again... Has your show been canceled yet? Probably not. Next season, I think you should do "The Apprentice: Rock of Love Edition." This would be like the normal apprentice, but the applicants would all be previous losing cast members of the Bret Michaels VH1 show. Think about what this would do for ratings. Pitting 16 slutty girls (most of whom are indescribably stupid) against each other, competing for a high paying executive job. Imagine the hilarity! The hair pulling, and the cat fights, the back stabbing betrayals, the crying, the drama. And you know at least one of them would offer to screw the Don in the board room in exchange for not getting fired... I wonder what Donald would do in that situation? Fire her? Promote her? Hmmm. Either way, I think this would be great entertainment. Afterwards, if the winner runs one of the divisions of Trump Enterprises into the ground, we can all have a laugh over it.

OK I can finally go get my food now. :)

Inconvenience Store (PART 1)

Where I live, there are Circle Ks EVERYWHERE. There used to actually be a corner in tempe where you could stand and be able to see three Circle Ks at the same time (although I don't think they are all there anymore). The thing with Circle K, is they are everywhere, and they are open 24 hours a day (in theory) and if you need something, they probably have it. Or something else that's close enough...

"This isn't exactly right, but it will do for now. Whatever. It's 4am. I'm not going to drive to a real store"

It seems like almost everywhere I've moved in this town, there has been a Circle K right there. I used to live directly across the street from one. So in my years living in Arizona, I've probably been to Circle K about 30,000,000 times.

and I HATE them!

In a way, I kind of have a weird affection for that store. I mean, when you are drunk in the middle of the night, they are probably the only thing within walking distance that's open, and they have all kinds of junk food and beverages. And they have these mediocre nachos. I have never wanted these nachos when I was sober. But when I've been drinking, they really hit the spot. And if you eat them, you PROBABLY won't get sick.

I should work with their advertising team. "Eat here and you probably won't vomit!"

Another thing that makes Circle K fun, is that there is often something weird going on there. I think the store attracts weird people, and they come in there and do weird things. It makes for an interesting trip to the store. Examples of weird things that I've witnessed:

1. drug deals taking place outside
2. various shoplifting incidents
3. one store had a guy who seemed to always be in the parking lot (EVERY DAY. ALL THE TIME) walking up to everyone who went in asking for change and cigarettes. Also he would ask you again on the way out.
4. the clerk getting so upset because some customer was being a bitch, that after she walked outside he told me that his dream was to go out there and spray all the customers with gasoline from the pump (this Circle K was also a gas station).
5. many many instances of customers/loiterers shouting at the staff/throwing things at the staff/destroying merchandise:

• because they don't have something the person wants
• because there is a pricing dispute
• because they won't give them free cigarettes (dude, I come here all the time! Why can't you just help me out? Aw then FUCK YOU!)
• losing scratch tickets
• getting carded buying beer
• what do you mean you don't take food stamps?
  
• etc.

and the weirdest Circle K incident was probably when a drunk belligerent man was in the store SCREAMING at the two guys behind the counter. He was irate because they would not let him buy anything. They were insisting that he leave the store immediately. The drunk man was shouting about how he was going to call the president of Circle K and get these guys fired. I was waiting to pay for something (at a safe distance of several feet behind this guy). Not only was he wasted, but he was also really dirty and smelled bad.

At some point, the crazy guy turned around and I saw that he was bleeding. He had blood on his face and hands (not so much that it was like he just murdered anyone, this was his own blood). and his arm or hand was dripping blood on the floor. So I backed further away. After about 5 minutes of screaming and the cashier telling the drunk man that the police were on their way and he better "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS STORE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" the drunk dude staggered to the door.

Then the cashier shouted "GET YOUR CDC VIOLATION FUCKING BIO-HAZARDOUS DISEASE SPREADING BLEEDING AIDS FUCKING BLOODY ASS OUT THAT DOOR NOW!"

Then the guy was gone. The cashiers turned to me and smiled calmly and apologized for using vulgar language in front of a lady. I was still a little stunned, and was carefully approaching the counter trying to make sure not to come near any of that guy's blood. And I told them, "Don't apologize. I think that was a very reasonable thing to say to him."

Classic. Never a dull moment there.

So you might be thinking, "Liz, why do you still go to this place?!" Oh trust me I wouldn't, except that it's RIGHT THERE! Everywhere I go, there is Circle K. And my apartment is only 1/4 mile away from work. And the ONLY store between here and there is Circle K. So sadly, I go there pretty often. And this Circle K sucks for it's own very special reasons. I will tell you about it soon. But right now I think I am going to go get me some Thai food for lunch. Mmmmm. Drunken Noodles. So I will have to continue this rant some other time.

Ciao!

I'm a degenerate gambler now

First off, I am so much less sick than before. It was a rough ten days or so, but I am happy to say that although I am still coughing in a way that makes the people around me feel uncomfortable, I am feeling WAY better than before. I spent most of this past weekend laying in my bed in a codeine induced stupor. It was lovely. And it really helped.

So now I am feeling able to do things like leave the house again. It's exciting. Because a week and a half is a long time for even me to spend hiding in my cave. Yesterday, a couple friends from work invited me to go with them to the dog track.

My first reaction was, "Nah, that's ridiculous!" I had this picture in my head of what this would be like. Old men sitting around betting on the races. Picture an overweight man in his 60s, wearing a hat and smoking a cigar. His name is Stu, and something he is wearing is plaid. It might be his pants, his jacket, or his hat. I'm not sure. He might have a cane too. And he's real serious about his smoking and gambling. This is who I picture hanging out at the track. Except that there are lots and lots of him, and their names aren't all Stu. There are probably some Als, Stans, Bobs, and Charlies, and maybe even a guy named Merv. I envisioned these men in a run down and somewhat ghetto venue too.

So, you know, not really my scene.

Then someone else at work who had been there before told me that I was right, and he added "nothing but a bunch of degenerates gambling." He was pretty adamant about the degenerate part. He made a math equation for me:



Well after thinking about it, I decided it might be fun, and it would definitely be a new experience. So why not? I was feeling pretty cooped up and stir crazy by then, and I was assured there would be beer there. So off I went to the track for some nice wholesome drinking and gambling.

It was everything I imagined it would be! Those men I had pictured in my head were there. Many of them. They weren't all dressed in plaid, and smoking is banned in Arizona, so there were no cigars. However, my general idea of who I would see came true completely. There were a lot of different people there too, not just the old men though. But many men wearing hats bettin' on the dogs. Also there were some other generally sad looking world-weary folks, sitting there gambling (many of them with their kids... nice family night out...), and also a few regular looking people.

Oh yeah, and the place was similar to what I imagined. As we walked in the door, it struck me immediately how old everything was in there. And it smelled musty like a thrift store. It was a fairly drab looking place, with very bright lights and old linoleum. Someone commented that it looked like an old abandoned airport. So my run down ghetto idea was pretty much right on too.

But it was fun! My friend won $201.00 right when we arrived. He had bet on 2 dogs named "Party Starter" and "Late Night Lover" just because he liked their names. They were both total long shots. They came in 1st and 2nd. So that started things out on a high note! I didn't win as much. But I went there, spent $21 on betting and beers, and I won about $33. So the way I see it, I was paid $12 to sit outside and drink beer, and watch some dogs run by every now and then.

Usually it costs me money to go out and drink beer, so this worked out better than normal. So I will probably go back again. Some day. Not all the time though. I don't want to get hooked and lose my life savings at the track...

Also, I'm pretty sure there is some cruelty involved in the way these dogs live. I don't know the details, but I know they are never allowed to just run around and play like normal dogs, so I do feel sad about that. If the reality is more horrible than that, I don't want to know about it. That would ruin my fun.

I remember breathing. It was nice.

Hello everyone. Sorry for not writing. I'm not trying to be lazy. But sadly, Lizzle is sick. Fo' rizzle.

Oh my head. It might blow up. And my throat. And my lungs. My poor nose. And my plugged up ears. I'm coming undone here. It's hard to write a blog with a throbbing headache, watering eyes, and faucet-nose. The only time I don't cough is when I hold my breath. Then there are occasional episodes of the room spinning, usually accompanied by the urge to throw up.

This has been going on since Saturday. I'm a big baby so I'm not coping well. Trying to keep some perspective, I will refrain from using the word tragic... But melancholy seems appropriate. I am feeling melancholy. Or I am suffering from melancholy... maybe... ??? I feel melancholic? I don't know. It's a weird word, ok? What do you want from me?! I'm sick. Stop being so judgmental. Geez.

My point is this sucks so feel extra bad for me.

Oh yeah, and another thing. As if I weren't already upset enough, I got very sad news yesterday. ThinkGeek.com did not select my Haiku. Those bastards. The one they picked was at least as lame as mine, so there's clearly some kind of conspiracy at play. I'm through with them.......... OK, that's a lie. I can't resist the nerd toys. I guess I'll have to write a better haiku.

If you need to express your deepest sympathies for my sad condition, feel free to send Halls cough drops, Kleenex (with lotion so my face doesn't start bleeding please), or any of your leftover prescription pain killers for this awful headache. A $50 gift certificate to thinkgeek.com would ease my suffering too, a little bit.

OK, my computer screen is starting to look trippy and one of those spinny-room moments is coming, so I gotta go. If you need me, i'll be in my bed for the next 12 hours, wallowing in my melancholiness.

I Win!

I just want to take a moment to gloat. Not only are scientologists more disapproved of than me, but so is George W. Bush.

Seems Bushy has a record breaking 71% disapproval rating.

I, on the other hand, only have a 45% disapproval rating. So I'm pretty sure that means I should be in charge. Of everything. This is a completely valid conclusion, based on a lot of very meticulous and indisputable research. Trust me.

When I am queen of the earth, the first things I will do is ban traffic jams, mosquitoes, and bank fees. I will also mandate vending machines in all public places that will dispense beer. The beer will cost $.05 a bottle. And gasoline will also be only $.05. Per TANK.

Oh then I will take care of all the poverty and disease and global warming. But beer comes first. I mean, what kind of leader would I be if I didn't know how to prioritize?

My name is Liz and I am an addict.

Haiku of the Day:


Coffee in my cup
Awesome caffeine wakes me up
Me? An addict? Yup!


I know. I'm no poet. But sometimes you just have to haiku. Who's with me here? Most of my haiku focus on how stupid my job is. It's a way to express my rage in a concise, time efficient manner. When I'm at work I normally don't have time for more than 17 syllables of venting.

Well, anyways... This was meant to be a blog about coffee and the haiku was just a tangent. So yes. I am a caffeine addict. I can not live my life without my coffee. I am a blithering idiot in the morning when I wake up. You think I'm lazy normally, but you probably haven't seen me without my caffeine fix. The word catatonic is not entirely inaccurate.

So I am addicted to caffeine, and I will not really accept my drug in any form other than coffee. I love coffee. I love how it tastes, I love the aroma. I love the different forms of coffee. I like a nice basic cup of black coffee with sugar. I like espresso. I like mochas, cappuccinos, iced coffee, blended coffee drinks, cafe caramel, iced toddies, and so on. If it has coffee in it, I probably like it.

This all started years ago. When I was in college, I had a particularly bad week sophomore year. It involved me being sick with the flu, and having to write a lot of papers and take several final exams all in one week. The end of this hellish week was near, but I still had my greatest challenge of all ahead of me: a Calculus Final. On Saturday morning at 7am, after 5 grueling days of all that other shit I just mentioned. By Friday afternoon, I was TIRED. I had missed several nights of sleep that week. I was in rough shape. Any qualified health professional would have advised me to go directly home, take my codeine, and sleep a lot. Actually, a qualified medical professional HAD told me to do that. But what did she know? She wasn't flunking calculus. So thanks to this Calculus final, again there would be no sleep for Liz.

My friend Brian helped make this all possible by forcing me to drink lots of coffee, even though I didn't like coffee much. He made good coffee for me (as opposed to crappy brown water you get at Denny's), and made me drink it. A lot of it. And then he forced me to study calculus for 12 hours straight while continually drinking coffee. And I didn't fail my class! Thank you Brian, where ever you are. You saved me from having to repeat that torturous class from hell. And you got me liking coffee.

And also know that I hold you personally responsible for this raging drug addiction that afflicts me to this day. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Well, it might not be fair to blame Brian completely. It might not be his fault that I now need three shots of espresso a day in order to live my life. But maybe he is to blame. It's not clear to me either way, and the sad truth is we will probably never know. So let's just blame him anyway.

So now that I'm hooked on the stuff, I usually go to my friendly local family owned coffee shop. They have really good coffee, and they are always nice to me. They know what I want (because I go there every day), and they are all just cool in general. In the mornings I am too stupid to do anything before I have my coffee. This includes going to get my coffee. They understand when I am too retarded to coherently place my order and pay for it. They know I need a little extra assistance sometimes. And they are OK with it, and they don't make me feel like an ass. Sometimes by mistake I order too many or too few shots of espresso. They notice and they make sure I don't overdose. Good people. We are also open about the fact that they are my drug dealer. We joke about it, but it's totally true.

I like this coffee place because it is the opposite of Starbucks. Starbucks is the corporate coffee evil empire. I hate Starbucks. I avoid Starbucks whenever I can. Someday I will explain why I hate Starbucks, but not today. I've already been going on and on for too long, and even I am getting bored now.

But back to my haiku. I decided while I was writing this blog that my coffee haiku is a lot better than most of my previous ones, and it would appeal to a much broader audience than the ones I write about my stupid job. So I decided to submit it to thinkgeek.com. If you aren't aware of this, thinkgeek.com has a monthly haiku contest. The winner gets their haiku printed in the monthly thinkgeek newsletter, and also wins $50 off stuff on their website! I've never sent a haiku in to thinkgeek before, so I'm pretty excited. I know, it's a long shot. But I can always use $50 worth of free geeky toys and gadgets, caffeinated soap, and things like that. Also, if they choose my haiku, I will be able to say that "some of my writing has been published." And I won't technically be lying. Come on... if you are reading my blog, you know as well as I do that this is probably the only chance I have at being published. So this could be a breakthrough for me!

So everyone! Keep your fingers crossed and wish me luck, OK?