Is there anybody going to listen to my story?

www.lizthoughts.gov.www\lizthoughts pt.2

2009-02-21T03:06:00.006-07:00

There is a new bar in Tempe called "Sign of the Whale." It is not cool. Don't go there, it's lame. Sorry to the bartender, whose name I have forgotten already. You were cool, but that place just sucks.

If I was a cop, I would park my cruiser near the exit of a Jack in the Box drive through at around 2:20am on the weekend, and I would conduct field sobriety tests to everyone leaving.

I think Joss Whedon is a genius that walks among us. His TV shows are amazing, and he is amazing. I can not stress this enough. Trust me.

my dishwasher is not working right and it flooded my kitchen tonight, and I am unhappy about it. Goes to show that trying to clean up my place is a deed that will not go unpunished.

I hate jury duty. I've been chosen. I have to sit through 3 days of unbelievable boredom next week. I am trying to consider the fact that someone's fate rests in my hands. And then I just feel scared that I am going to be the only person on the jury who isn't a total fucktard. Then what will happen? Ugh.

My computer is not behaving correctly right now. I am afraid of what this blog post is going to look like, format wise.

Due to things like multuple jury duty summons, airport security thinking I am a terrorist every time I pass through, and things of that nature, I can't help but wonder why the US Government hates me.

I hate "photo enforcement zones."

I've had a lot of beer tonight and I probably should look into crashing out now. But I probably won't do that.

Curly fries are much better than normal fries. but every time I get curly fries, I am reminded of the old Beavis and Butthead episode where they were making the "special seasoned curly fries" at the fast food place that gave everyone e. coli poisioning. I am pretty sure it was e. coli... not 100% sure though. But it was gross. Watch the episode if you don't know what I mean.

I think I may have fixed the format situation. If not, sorry for all the excessive scrolling to and fro that you are doing right now in order to read this.

This was by far the best thing all week. I can keep watching this and I just laugh and laugh.

By the way, don't watch that at work with the sound on or with your children around. Sorry if it's too late, but if you know me at all you should have known better! haha!

Cut the dude some slack, man!

2009-02-04T19:49:00.003-07:00

I felt a need to comment about this whole 'Michael Phelps smoked pot' scandal that's going on, so here goes.

I think everyone should leave him alone. I highly doubt he smokes pot on a regular basis. It really should not have anything to do with his athletic career. If he was on steroids or other performance enhancing drug, that would be a big deal. But if you have ever met a pothead in your life, you know that marijuana is NOT a performance enhancing drug. It slows reaction time, and common side effects include taking lots of naps, laying on couches and watching tv, and ordering pizzas. This drug does not give him any kind of advantage in his sport. If anyone should be pissed off at him, it is his coach.

Actually, given the nature of the drug, I say that if an athlete is successful and smokes marijuana, they should get extra points. I mean, that's impressive. Again, I really doubt that Phelps makes a habit of such behaviors. I have a feeling that the best swimmer on earth probably takes better care of his lungs than that. So leave the guy alone. Let him be a 23 year old.

There is an argument to be made that children all over the world look up to him as a role model, and that he therefore has a responsibility to behave like a role model and not set a bad example. That there are kids who feel disappointed in their hero for screwing up and doing something bad. Well. OK. This is somewhat valid, but Welcome to Life. People are going to disappoint you. You shouldn't idolize anyone, it will always lead to disappointment. You have to learn some time... Even though Michael Phelps seems somewhat super-human when you watch him swim, he is human. It's not fair to expect him to live a perfect life and never to screw up. It's not fair to expect that from anyone.

Imagine if your life was constantly being put on display in newspapers and magazines, and on tv and the internet. How would the world see you?

And now to lighten the mood...

2009-01-31T00:56:00.002-07:00

I realize the that last post was a total bummer. Sorry about that, but sometimes you just have to let it out, am I right?

Well, I don't want everyone to be all depressed or think I hate my home. I don't hate either of my homes, and even though I miss people and places, I am doing well. And I suppose I should just come to terms with the fact that I am a Masshole-Zony Hybrid now, so I should just embrace the dichotomy, right? Oh yeah, by the way:

Word of the Day:

Dichotomy: [die-kot-a-mee] n. Division into two usually contradictory parts or opinions. By the way, there is a good chance that I'm not exacly using that word correctly in the sentence above. But I try.

OK, enough of my yammering and tangents. I now present two totally unoriginal things that I have stolen off of the internet, for your amusement and mine. You may have seen these before, but if you are from AZ or MA, give them a read again, because I know they've made me chuckle more than once. Enjoy, and yes both halves are represented!

YOU KNOW YOU'RE FROM MASSACHUSETTS IF.....

1. You've pulled out of a side street and used your car to block oncoming traffic so you can make a left

2. Stop signs mean slow down a little, but only of you want to

3. You know how to cross four lanes of traffic in five seconds

4. You believe using your turn signals gives away your plan to the enemy

5. You think it's not actually tailgating unless you're touching the bumper of the car in front of you

6. You know that a yellow light means that at least five more people can get through and a red one means two more can

7. The transportation system is known as the "T"

8. You could own a small town in Iowa for the cost of your house

9. You almost feel dissapointed when someone doesnt flip you off when you cut them off or steal their parking space

10. There are 24 Dunkin Donuts shops within 15 minutes of your house

11. When people talk about "The Curse Of The Bambino" you just say remember that time the Red Sox made history by coming back from 3 games down against the Yankees and went on to win the world series???

12. You're amazed when traveling out of town that people at McDonalds actually speak english

13. If you stay on the same road long enough it eventually has three different names

14. Someone has honked at you because you didnt peel out the second the light turned green

15. You have honked at someone because they didn't peel out the second the light turned green

16. All the potholes just add to the excitement of driving

17. You think if someones nice to you they either want something or they are from out of town and lost

18. Six inches of snow is considered a dusting

19. Three days of 90 degree heat is definately a "heat wave" 63 degrees is "on the warm side"

20. You cringe everytime you hear some actor/actress imitate the "Boston Accent" on TV or in a movie, if you don't have it then you're never going to get it even if you were born here

21. At the ice cream shop you call chocolate sprinkles "jimmies"

22. You can go from one side of town to the other in less than fifteen minutes and see at least fifteen losers you went to high school with doing the same thing they were doing when you saw them last

23. It is raining and/or snowing, the person in front of you is going 70, and you're still cursing them for going too slow

24. You know how to pronounce towns like Worcester, Haverhill, and Cotuit

25. You know what they sell at a "packie"

26.You've called something "wicked pissa"

27. You've slammed on your brakes to deter a tailgator

28. You still try to order curly fries from Burger King

29. You keep an ice scraper in your car all year round

30. You know at least three Tony's one Vinnie, and a Frank

31. Paranoia sets in when you can't see an ATM or CVS

32. You think crosswalks are for wimps

33. You've bragged about saving money at The Christmas Tree Shop

34. You know what "regular coffee" is, and you order iced coffee in January

35. You can navigate a rotary without a problem

36. You have been to Fenway Park

37. You refer to the New York Yankees as the Evil Empire

38. You feel the rest of the world needs to drive more like you

39. When someone calls you a "masshole" you take it as a compliment

40. You use the words "wicked" and "good" in the same sentence

41. You know what a frappe is

42. Saint Patrticks Day is your second favorite holiday

43. You are proud to drink Sam Adams and think that the rest of the country owes Bostonians a thank you

44. You never say "Cape Cod" you say "the cape"

45. You went to Old Sturbridge Village and Plymouth Plantation in elementary school

46. You can drive to the mountains and the ocean all in one day

47. You have a special place in your heart for the Worcester Firefighters

48. You know the Mass Pike and 128 are some strange weather dividing lines

49. You do not recognize the letter "R" as a part of the English language.

50. You've gone from I-95 South to I-93 North by driving in a straight line and never changing direction.

51. You understand everything just said and passed it on to other massholes

52. You know you're from Mass when you give directions that cite land marks that USED to be there...

You bang a left at the lights, and then you drive just past where the old farm was... the one that used to have the giant catepillar in front... and then you take a wicked sharp right to where the movie theater used to be...

* * * *

YOU KNOW YOU'RE FROM ARIZONA WHEN.....

You notice your car overheating before you drive it.

You no longer associate bridges or rivers with water.

You can hear the weather forecast of 115 degrees without flinching.

You can be in the snow, then drive for an hour...and it will be over 100 degrees.

You discover, in July it only takes two fingers to drive your car, because your steering wheel is so hot.

You run your air conditioner in the middle of winter so you can use your fireplace.

The best parking is determined by shade.....not distance.

You realize that "Valley Fever" isn't a disco dance.

You can make sun tea instantly.

Hotter water comes from the cold water tap than the hot one.

It's noon in July, kids are on summer vacation and yet all the streets are totally empty of both cars and people.

You actually burn your hand opening the car door.

Sunscreen is sold year round and kept right at the checkout counter.

You put on fresh sunscreen just to go check the mail box.

Some fools will market mini-misters for joggers and some other fools will actually buy them. Worse.....some fools actually try to jog.

You can pronounce Saguaro, Tempe, San Xavier, Canyon de Chelly, Mogollon Rim, Cholla, Gila and Tucson.

You can understand the reason for a town named "Why"

You can fry an egg on the hood of a car in the morning.

You know hot air balloons can't rise because the air temperature is hotter than the air inside the balloon.

You see two trees fighting over a dog.

You can say "Hohokam" and people don't think you're laughing funny.

You see more irrigation water on the street than there is in the Salt River

You have to go to a fake beach for some fake waves

You hear people say "but it's a dry heat!"

You buy salsa by the gallon.

Your Christmas decorations include sand and l00 paper bags.

You think a red light is merely a suggestion.

All of your out-of-state friends start to visit after October but clear out come the end of April.

You think someone driving wearing oven mitts is clever.

Most of the restaurants in town have the first name "El" or "Los."

You think 60 tons of crushed red rock makes a beautiful yard.

Your house is made of stucco and has a red clay tile roof.

Vehicles with open windows have the right-of-way in the summer.

Most homes have more firearms than people.

Kids ask, "What's a mosquito?"

People who have black cars or black upholstery in their car are automatically assumed to be from out of-state or nuts.

You know better than to get into a car with leather seats if you're wearing shorts.

You can finish a Big Gulp in 10 minutes and go back for seconds.

You take rain dances seriously.

When a rainy day puts you in a good mood.

When you drive two miles around a parking lot looking for a shady place - even in the dead of winter.

You feed your chickens ice cubes to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs.

You "hug" a cactus only once in your lifetime.

When you have to look up "mass transit" in the dictionary.

A hundred ten in the shade is sorta hot, but you don't have to shovel it off your driveway.

A haboob happens.

Petrified doesn't mean scared.

The temperature drops below 95, you feel a bit chilly.

You've lived in AZ your whole life and have never been to the Grand Canyon

You would give anything to be able to splash cold water on your face.

You can attend any function wearing shorts and a tank top.

You realize that asphalt has a liquid state.

you realize that snowbirds aren't really birds at all, but just really bad out of state drivers that you learn to hate

there are only two temperatures, hot and hotter

even thinking about not having air conditioning makes you sweat

you travel out of state and any sort of humidity nearly kills you

*you have no idea why 48 other states (Hawaii doesn't do it either) insist on changing their clocks twice a year for this thing called "daylight savings time"

(For the record ~ I do not know of this Christmas Tree Shoppe phenomenon. I think this is something that started after I moved away, and I'm ok with that. And I do not know what a "haboob" is, and I have never hugged a cactus. Thank you, that is all.)

I am, I said

2009-01-30T23:47:00.003-07:00

I'm not sure what triggered it. It seems like I would be free of this by now, after over 13 years (13 years? Yikes!). But for some reason, today, I feel homesick. I know that if I were to get on a plane and go home to Massachusetts right now, I would probably want to leave within less than 24 hours. After a couple of days there, I get homesick all over again... for Arizona.

Nonetheless, I have had this vague gloomy feeling all day today. It's OK, I will recover. I always do. But it made me start to think about my current life and location. I do really like Arizona. At this time of year, it's hard not to like it. It was 78 degrees today. It is January. Right now it is 20 degrees back in Sudbury. If I were there, I would be wearing lots of layers and would probably have a blanket on, and I would still be cold, in a house that has the heat "turned up." Here, I drive in my car, in January, with the windows open, looking at palm trees and cacti, I see flowers everywhere, and even the mountains that surround me. The mountains used to irritate me when I moved here, but I actually think they are quite pretty now.

I almost feel like I belong here. But not exactly. Various things will just never feel right about this place. One of these things is the fact that everyone seems to eat mexican food all the time. I have nothing against mexican food. But do we always need to eat mexican food? Does anyone really need mexican food EVERY DAY? I certainly don't. Another thing is the smell of the rain. True, it does not rain often. But when it does, there is a very distinct Arizona smell afterwards. Like dirt. It's not pleasant. Back home, there is a distinct smell after it rains too. I suppose we're smelling wet eart in both places. I guess I just prefer the smell of New England dirt? I'm not sure, but I hate the rainy smell here, and I always remember that this is not home when I smell it.

About a month ago, I saw a squirrel. This was really exciting! It was on the ASU campus. I have NEVER seen a squirrel in this city, in 13 years. Not one. I'm sure this squirrel got lost somehow. Maybe it rode into town on a truck filled with christmas trees and got stuck here? Not sure. It made me so happy to see it. But then I thought about 13 years with no squirrels. Or any other random wild animals running around outside. No raccoons, opossums, deer, foxes, groundhogs... Well, I guess there are the little bunnies. And occasional ducks, and very rarely coyotes. But it's not the same... not the same... I do miss the animals.

This feeling like I don't really belong in either place, and my homesickness, made me think of Neil Diamond. I just lost you, didn't I? Haha. Well, one if my favorite songs by the great Mr. Diamond is "I am I Said." I think he was sitting somewhere having the same weird mood as I am now when he wrote that song. It's about a restlessness that doesn't make sense. A sadness he doesn't understand, and the lonely feeling it brings, because, as they say, "You Can Never Go Home."

Well I'm New York City born and raised,

But nowadays I'm lost between two shores.

L.A.'s fine, but it ain't home.

New York's home, but it ain't mine no more...

Of course my locations are different, but it's the same general idea. I'm listening to this song right now, since I was thinking about it and thought, I should hear this NOW! Ahh yes, I do love me some Neil Diamond. And I absolutely love my ipod! I got an ipod for christmas and it's fabulous. And it might just be the thing to fix this momentary funk I've been in today. It makes me happy. So does listening to Neil Diamond, since I'm clearly in a Neil Diamond mood. Besides, if you can't be cheered up by Sweet Caroline, then you aren't totally human.

See, I feel better already! :)

Not dead yet...

2008-12-12T01:21:00.004-07:00

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?

2008-09-15T23:36:00.006-07:00

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?!?

2008-08-21T21:31:00.005-07:00

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?

2008-08-21T21:02:00.004-07:00

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

2008-08-03T00:12:00.005-07:00

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)

2008-08-02T22:20:00.010-07:00

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

2008-08-01T23:33:00.004-07:00

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

2008-08-01T22:02:00.011-07:00

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

2008-07-29T00:52:00.001-07:00

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!

2008-07-26T13:50:00.013-07:00

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!

2008-07-26T08:37:00.010-07:00

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

2008-07-26T07:20:00.007-07:00

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...

2008-07-20T15:01:00.002-07:00

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

2008-06-30T22:19:00.003-07:00

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...

2008-05-31T15:56:00.005-07:00

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)

2008-05-31T14:09:00.008-07:00

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:

drug deals taking place outside
various shoplifting incidents
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.
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).
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

2008-05-21T19:39:00.006-07:00

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.

2008-05-14T20:51:00.004-07:00

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!

2008-05-01T22:06:00.006-07:00

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.

2008-04-24T18:18:00.008-07:00

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?

My Friend Michael is Awesome

2008-04-21T21:33:00.007-07:00

Michael Glen is the first paraplegic hot air balloon pilot in the world.

He used to be my boss way back in the day. He is a smart guy, he's one of the nicest people I've ever known, he is SO funny, and to top it off he is a good role model and has an amazing outlook on life. He's an inspiration, and his goal is to inspire everyone else. Check this out:

You can also look at his website: www.rollingpilot.com

I don't know if anyone I know would ever have a need to hire a speaker for an event, but if you do, consider him. Or donate money to his cause, if that's your thing. Or if you ever find yourself at any major hot air ballooning event, look for him and say hello.

Only 45% of people hate me! YAY!

2008-04-20T18:03:00.004-07:00

I just read an article about the Pope coming to visit the US, and the general perception/attitude towards Catholics in America. The article discusses various religious groups and our country's positive or negative views of these groups, and quantifies these positive and negative views. This is all based upon a Gallup Poll.

The point the article was making is that, overall, American's have a positive opinion of Catholics. Short version: 45% of people have a positive view of Catholics. Only 13% have a negative view of them (and 41% are neutral). The net score is +32%.

For a more eloquent and detailed explanation of this check out the original article:

Americans Have Net-Positive View of U.S. Catholics

I bet Catholics are pretty happy about that score, in light of the various scandals and negative attention they get so often.

I on the other hand, am excited for a totally different reason.

I am an Atheist. As a group, we are not held in very high esteem by the general public. This article scores us at a net -32%. In fact our scores were the complete opposite of the Catholics (45% negative, 13% positive, 41% neutral). Usually we occupy the bottom rung of the ladder. I don't really understand why no one likes us, but for some reason we are disliked and distrusted. More so than anyone else.

Until now!

Thank you Scientology! Finally someone else is hated more than us. Of all the groups mentioned in this study, Scientology came in at the bottom (by a landslide) with a net approval of -45%.

I don't know very much about Scientology. I do not pretend to be an authority on this subject. Not in the least bit. But I am pretty sure this is a "religion" based on a book that was written by a science-fiction author back in the 1950s. They believe that unhappiness, evil, and mental illness are the result of painful memories that have been planted in our brains by space aliens. In order to achieve success and joy in this life, they have to "audit" themselves to remove the alien traumas. Don't ask me what they do in these auditing sessions. I think there are electronic devices involved. They might be using electro-shock therapy to get the people to give all of their money to the church, but I'm not certain of that. They also believe in a space confederation that is ruled by an alien named Xenu. I'm not sure if Xenu is worshiped or if he(it?) is regarded as evil. He might be their version of Satan. This is where I start to really not know what i'm talking about.

I don't know any more than that because I am unable to read any more detailed information about this "religion." I can't because that is the place where my brain shuts down and refuses to let me keep reading. It is a self defense mechanism. Like when the Department of Defense detects that a hacker has breached their security and is threatening their computer systems and gaining access to top secret intelligence. There are those loud alarms and flashing red lights and everything shuts down to minimize the damage (at least, this is what movies and my imagination have led me to believe happens there). It's just like that when I try to learn about Scientology. As soon as I get to the part about Xenu, my mind shuts down.

It seems so obvious to me that this all a whole lot crazier than Atheism. But I guess the rest of America just noticed that. As far as victories go, this is not a big one. But we will take what we can get. Fellow Atheists, join me in a resounding "WOO-HOO!"

And in this time of celebration, I think we should take a moment to thank Tom Cruise. Over the past several years, he has been behaving like a retarded lunatic, and he has been very public about it. I think this is the reason America finally noticed that the Scientologists are Bat-Shit crazy and that they deserve slightly more contempt than Atheists.

Oops!

2008-04-11T00:41:00.002-07:00

I just realized that my Christopher Walken video had stopped working. But I fixed it. If you tried to watch it before when it was broken, watch it now. If you notice it's broken again, please tell me! Everyone needs to see the Googly Eyes!

Thank you,
That is all.

I always knew it was going to be the ferns.

2008-04-07T21:34:00.004-07:00

I've said it many times before, but it bears repeating. Christopher Walken is the shit. I'm fairly certain that if I ever see him in a public place, I will make such a Huge-Fan-Acting-Like-An-Ass type of scene, that security will probably be called. Mainly, I want to give the man a hug. I have a feeling he wouldn't be very receptive to that, which is understandable. But I'm going to try. Better yet, I would try to get him to dance. I also don't figure that will be very successful. But SO worth a try. Because the payout on that could be immeasurable. Well worth the risk of an incident with his security people. Don't you agree?

If you have somehow lived your life for the past 7 years never having seen this, stop what you are doing and watch immediately. Even if you have seen it, watch it again because it's still one of the greatest things ever:

Oh and in case you didn't catch this the other night on SNL, this was also hilarious:

I could keep on adding more amazing Walken clips here. It's taking a lot of restraint not to... But I think I've made my point. I love Christopher Walken.

I'm sooooooo smart.

2008-04-06T01:59:00.005-07:00

I am embarrassed to admit it, but I ran out of gas yesterday. Genius.

I ran out of gas once a long time ago. My friend, Jen, and I were in the car on the way to Maine (from Massachusetts) and we ran out of gas on the Maine Turnpike in the middle of nowhere. I say "we" ran out of gas, but it was completely me. I was driving, and it was my mother's car. Jen was an innocent bystander. My mother had reminded me about 30 times to fill up the car... I had gone to fill up the car that morning. But the thing was when I went to the gas station, I was driving MY car. When I went to Maine later on, I was driving MY MOM'S car. Funny how that didn't quite work right. When it happened, I said, "HOW CAN I BE OUT OF GAS!?!? I FILLED UP THE CAR BEFORE WE LEFT!!! WHAT THE??"

Then came the "Oh wait.... Oh... umm... yeah......... I see......."

Dumb!

The thing was, we were really far away from anything. We didn't know what to do. We couldn't walk to get gas. We hadn't seen another car for a very long time. We had a cell phone, but we didn't know who to call, because we didn't really know quite where we were. Who do you call when you are somewhere in Maine and need gasoline? Oh yeah, we also didn't know how to use the phone. It was a long time ago and it was before everyone had a cell phone. This was one of those big black heavy things from sometime around the bronze age that we had borrowed from my mom.

We decided we would call Jen's mother. She couldn't really help, but she might know where we should call for help (nope, didn't have AAA). Also, we knew Jen's mom's phone number, so that was a big check in the plus column. And we certainly could not call my mother. Not after she reminded me 30 times to fill up the car. So we were on the side of the highway trying to figure out how to operate the phone when the Maine State Highway something-or-other guy came along in his truck with yellow lights and sold us 2 gallons of gas for about $30. Literally Highway Robbery. But whatever, what the fuck else were we going to do? And I was just glad my mom didn't have to find out i was such an idiot.

So you would think after this happened, I would have learned my lesson. Never. Run. Out. Of. Gas. Again. EVER.

Well, you would think. I thought so too. But I left work to drive home last night, and about 100 feet after I pulled out of the parking lot, my car suddenly lurched and made a weird noise, then slowed down a lot and things just locked up. I thought my car was dead. It was like she just took a shit in the middle of the road. But then i realized what was going on. No gas. Liz! You Idiot! But thank goodness there was a gas station right there. I lucked out big time. I coasted down the street and turned into the gas station (no power steering, scared a guy in a FedEx truck who thought i was going to hit him, couldn't really slow down because I didn't want to stop till I was at a pump, it was pretty bad). I managed to somehow steer the car to a gas pump and it came to a stop by itself. If it had coasted to a stop 2 feet earlier, the hose wouldn't have reached. Whew! Talk about luck!

I decided I love my car even more than I already did. There were so many ways that situation could have sucked SO MUCH more.

How could I possibly have let this happen? I mean, the car has a little meter to tell me how much gas I have. It also has a tiny little orange dot that lights up when i am low on gas. I also set my "tripometer" or whatever it's called back to 0 every time I fill up, so I can see how many miles i've gone and know when I need to fill up. So I really could not have been better warned that I was going to run out of gas. This information was right in front of my face. But I have a gigantic gas tank. I only have to fill up the car once every month or month and a half. So I tend to forget about it. But mainly, I am DUMB.

Currants are bad

2008-04-01T23:44:00.007-07:00

I saw these red currants at Trader Joe's and they looked yummy. I had never seen currants before, except the dried ones. And I like dried currants a lot. Like zingy little raisins. These currants seemed like a delicious, juicy, little red jackpot.

They are not delicious. They don't taste at all like the dried currants. They don't taste like grapes. They don't taste the way they look. I'm a little confused by their taste actually. I don't really understand how something can simultaneously have almost no taste at all, and yet taste so terrible. It's a produce paradox.

I will stick to dried currants from now on. Occasionally I like to make Ants on a Log. That's a great snack. Yes I am 31 years old. You might think this is a kindergarten snack, but I assure you it still tastes delicious when you are grown up. The last time I made Ants on a Log, I had to make a huge batch for a pot luck event. You know how some of the celery sticks are real skinny? Like less than a centimeter wide? There was this dilemma about what to do with all of this celery. The skinny stalks were too narrow to make Ants on a Log. Raisins just won't fit! My ants would fall off! But I didn't want to waste this celery. So I used currants. They are so tiny, they fit perfectly on those skinny ass celery sticks.

We couldn't quite call them Ants on a Log. They technically weren't the same thing, and it wasn't accurate to call these things "logs." So we named them Ticks On a Stick. Sure, some people were put off by the unappetizing name. But damn they were good. They all got eaten up. Delicious. Trust me.

I recommend bringing a combination platter of Ants On a Log and Ticks On a Stick to your next potluck event. Sure, they will all mock you at first, but then they will realize they're being stupid and they'll eat that shit up.

And my friend Jess had a really good idea too. "Jazz Ants on a Log." This would involve replacing the "ants" with M&Ms. I didn't try this yet, but I can already tell you it would be a big hit. I also just found this recipe for Fire Ants on a Log. I might try this some day too. I find that cranberries make most things better. And to my Vegan fans, i found that last thing on this vegan blog. It has a lot of Vegan related links and information and it looked interesting. Even though I'm not Vegan.

I have questions.

2008-04-01T22:00:00.004-07:00

1a. Why do people turn right from the left lane?
1b. Why do people (probably the same people, but I don't know for sure) turn left from the right lane?

Do people think it is OK to just throw on their blinker and lean on the horn and cross three lanes of traffic to turn? Or sometimes no blinker. Just swerving. It seems to always happen right in front of me. Asshats.

2. Is it actually legal to make a U-turn while you are waiting at a red light? Questions 1a and 1b were mainly rhetorical. But I am serious about this one. I would never have thought this was allowed. I mean, red light means DO NOT GO. At least I thought so. And I still think so. I would know so, if it weren't for the fact that I keep seeing people do this. I see people do retarded things all the time. But this is just weird, and it takes some serious balls to just go on red, in the middle of the afternoon, with tons of cars around. First I thought, "wow. That guy's crazy." But then I saw more people doing it. I have seen this happen 4 or 5 times in the past couple months. Did I miss something in drivers ed? Is there some loophole that you aren't crossing the intersection, so it's OK? Or is it because I took drivers ed about 70 years ago, in another state?

Maybe in AZ you can do this. In MA you are expected to run red lights a lot of the time, but you aren't technically allowed to. I'm pretty sure you would get in an accident if you pulled something like that.

At the very least, you'd have several people honking horns and yelling at you. They would probably say something like, "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU AH YOU FUCKIN' PRICK? ARE YOU A FUCKIN' RETAHD?" while making obscene gestures at you. Awww. Sometimes I do get homesick.

But here in this strange desert city, no one seems confused or upset by this weird behavior.

3. This question has nothing to do with the previous ones. But does anyone have any tips about growing peperomia plants or joshua trees without them turning brown and dying? I have failed miserably with the peperomias. Several times. I haven't killed any joshua trees yet. But that's because I haven't planted them yet. I am planning to this weekend probably. Yes, I realize that I will be 100 years old before they are big and amazing. But I'm still going to try.

Nice Lazy Weekend

2008-03-31T00:08:00.004-07:00

I had a beautiful weekend. I accomplished the bare minimum that could be expected of me on a weekend, without feeling like it was a complete waste of time.

On friday night, I went to a bar for a night of way too much beer. This excess of beer seemed justified because it was a party in honor of two people's birthdays, one person's job promotion, and one guy's going away party. The guy who is moving away (back home to the UK) is really a super cool guy, and he will be missed a lot. So in honor of all these things, a lot of people came out for a night of way too much beer. It was fun. I kind of feel like an ass though, but that's usually how i feel when i drink too much. I don't think i did any real damage. And I had enough sense about me to walk home, which is good because I could have gone to jail or wrapped my beautiful Volvo around a telephone pole otherwise. We wouldn't want either of those things to happen.

Saturday, I had to walk all the way back to the bar to get my car back. It was sunny and hot. The world was loud and bright and harsh, and I was hungover and wanting to be back inside in the dark cool quiet. But I need my coffee. I got the car and finally went for my coffee and then everything was good again. I chatted with a couple friends at the coffee place for a bit, then I went home and returned to my dark lair of quiet for more lazing... and a nap.

Sunday was similar. I lounged about for most of the day. I took an afternoon nap. I did do some laundry, which was painful and distressing for me. But now my jeans don't smell all funky and I have clean shirts. Which is nice. I also went to a barbecue and hung out with some friends. It was nice out, and I had corn on the cob and beer. It was a good time.

This is exactly what I like a weekend to be. Lets say about 25% of the time having fun, 70% of the time doing nothing at all, and 5% being productive. That's a really good ratio. And also, I am always proud of myself when I take a nap in the middle of the day, even when I got more than enough sleep the night before. And I accomplished this two days in a row. Good job, Liz!

On an unrelated note, I have a DVR (two of them actually). Nearly everything I watch is recorded. So I almost never watch TV commercials. I can just fast forward through that shit. That's a great thing. But every now and then, I find myself watching normal TV. Right now, I am watching regular TV. I feel a small pain inside every time a commercial comes on and I can't fast forward. But on the bright side, there are occasionally some really good commercials! For example, the one for MasterCard that goes something like "going out for dinner: $50. Staying for dessert: $10, ordering coffee: $12" (I am really paraphrasing here, and I'm making these numbers up...) "Giving your kitchen the night off: priceless." Meanwhile you are watching all the kitchen appliances gettin' down and partying while the people are out of the house. This is an awesome advertisement. This is just SO CUTE. The knives are watching a horror movie! The salt and pepper shakers seem like they are on a date. Other utensils are playing in the sink and just dancing around. It's just so adorable. I love it. I'm not even going to get a MasterCard because of this ad, but I would like to thank MasterCard for entertaining me for 30 seconds. Well done. I just saw that a few minutes ago while I was writing this, and I wanted to share my appreciation for it.

Yeah, I know... You don't have to tell me... I realize I am a huge dork... ;)

The dogs aren't dead.

2008-03-23T22:47:00.009-07:00

Just so no one is all upset with me, the dogs downstairs are NOT dead. I heard them earlier. They haven't been going crazy or anything (thank goodness). But they were barking a little earlier today.

Although I wanted to murder them, I would never really hurt them. Good. I'm glad we cleared that up. It has been pointed out to me in the past couple days that most people do not find dead animals funny. My only argument about this is that there are some circumstances where they are. For example, the other day someone posted something hilarious on craigslist in the FREE stuff. It was a stuffed squirrel holding what they claimed was an 8 year old severed finger. I mean a finger that had been gnawed off of its person 8 years ago, not a finger that was cut off of an 8 year old. I really have my doubts about the authenticity of this "finger." But regardless of this, it was FUCKING HILARIOUS.

To all of you that said things to me like, "Ew, it's a dead squirrel," or "severed fingers aren't funny," or "dead bunnies aren't funny," (that was an unrelated event, and no, there was no actual dead bunny) I just want to say that in the right context, HELL YEAH THEY ARE! Where is your sense of humor? Who's with me? I know I'm not alone here. It's just like dead baby jokes. A real dead baby isn't funny. But dead baby jokes are another story. Wow, I'm way off topic, huh?

Back to my original point, I tentatively would like to say thank you to my neighbor (whom I have never met) for doing whatever you did to stop this awful concert of barking. Especially because I didn't ever have to actually speak to you or confront you in any way. But of course it has only been about a week. So I reserve the right to retract this 'thank you' if they start their yapping again.

I've been having a really nice day today. I haven't left the house once. I've been chillin' at home in peace and quiet the whole day. I have said it before, and I will say it a million more times. Days off kick ass. I really wish I could have more of them. Like 100 days off. Wow. Or infinity days off. Yes. Why not dream big? Infinity days off. Indeed.

Today I haven't accomplished anything at all. Not one thing. I watched a lot of Jeopardy! in an effort to clear up some memory in my DVR. I guess that counts as being productive. I also have been watching some CSI NY that i got from netflix. Man do I love this show. I love crime dramas, especially CSI and CSI NY. They really achieved a winning combination of creepy gory corpses, mystery and intrigue, science geeky stuff, and cute boys. Lots of cute boys. Especially them . But also him and him. And several others. And CSI NY has Gary Sinise too. I don't think he's cute, but you gotta give it up for Lieutenant Dan.

That's right. I just now figured out how to add links into my writing. That's exciting for me, because I am pretty e-tarted. It was about 100,000 times easier than I imagined it would be.

Let's Go To a Whorehouse!

2008-03-19T22:18:00.007-07:00

Well, now there is this pressure for me to write things on a regular basis. Which is kind of hard right now. All that's been going on this week is dogs barking (still being mercifully quiet, thank goodness) and working. I could complain about work, but I don't have the energy for that. Also, sometimes ridiculous things happen at work and I can write about these things and amuse people. But lately, no. It's just been a drag. And I don't want to bore my fan base. It's a pretty limited fan base, so it wouldn't do to alienate them.

So now you are wondering, "What whores? She said something about whores and this is a lot lamer than I was led to believe it would be... stupid Liz isn't even talking about whores."

Well, keep your pants on. Or not. You know, whatever. Pants are optional here.

So a very smart friend of mine suggested that I start this blog out with the whore story, but I didn't think that was a good idea. That's a lot to live up to. But it's been a few days. I think I've eased into the whore story. Somehow you didn't lose interest yet, even after boring stories about dogs barking. So you earned your hookers!

A couple weeks ago, I went to the Tempe Beer Festival. This was a fun event near the "Lake" in downtown tempe. Specifically it was at the "Beach Park." I must use quotes because it is a pretty poor excuse for a lake. And there is no way to even pretend that there is a beach there. There is a grassy area. That's the most beachy part. I've been to beaches that had grass before. But usually there is also a beach at the beach. But this "beach park" doesn't have a beach. It's just dumb. But anyway, this was an afternoon of drinking lots of different kinds of beer out of tiny beermugs, and getting sunburned. But somehow, in spite of the tiny beers it was still really fun and i got kinda drunk. But then afterwards, we went to a bar where they had regular sized beers. And I had some of those too... then another bar for dinner and a really big beer... then to someone's apartment for some more beers... you get the point. The beerfest really acted more like a catalyst that drove me to drink a LOT of beer at other places besides the beerfest. By late that night (I have no concept of actual time by then. The tiny beers started at 2:30pm. The regular beers started around 6pm. "Late" may have been 11pm? I dunno) I was pretty much hammered. Then we went BACK out into the world for more BEER!

Here is where things stopped being as amazing. I was taken to a place I've never been to before. It's called the Cherry Lounge. It was terrible. It was a club. It felt a bit like a whorehouse to me. (Finally the whores!) Let me describe it. There are large pictures on the walls of basically naked women. Not exactly naked. But close. Wearing as little clothing as possible without being naked. There were also stripper poles all over the place. These were scattered throughout for all the ladies to use. So if you feel you are in the mood to do some pole dancing on top of a table that is lit from below, this is your place! But then the best part was the CAGES. There were big cages with anorexic girls dancing, also basically naked. Dancing like whores in cages. With their pole dancing companions around. AWESOME. Oh yeah, and the lights were all red, so it really brought back memories of window shopping for whores in Amsterdam. Well, needless to say, I had to keep drinking a lot in order to cope with this place. So I basically drowned myself. I am very appreciative of my friend Carol because she helped me get home after 12 hours of drinking. Silly me! Trying to take a cab with only $3 in my wallet...

If you are ever thinking to yourself, "I want to go out and drink! And Liz is coming too! Where should we go?" 99% of the time, a club is not the right answer. 100% of the time, a club with bad music and pole dancers and whores in cages is not the right answer. I don't like whorehouses. At least not dark crowded ones with really loud terrible music. I think this was one of the levels of hell. Did anyone read Inferno? Was he ever at a nightclub? Well, enough beer and liquor and even I can have a little fun at club-whore-hell. But in retrospect, I could have just said BYE! and gone to the irish pub next door. But I was too far gone to think clearly enough for that. It seems so obvious now, but I didn't even think of that option at the time.

I feel a little bad about making people think this would be about prostitutes, and fooling you into reading that dumb story. So I will go off on a tangent and mention the prostitute that was in front of me in line at Walmart once. I can't actually prove she was a hooker. But let me assure you, she was a hooker. There were shiny silver and black spandex pants. There was a silver and white fur coar that seemed to be made out of a dead tiger. If tigers were silver. And huge blond hair with a whole can of hairspray. And Boots. HOOKER BOOTS. I waited in the line behind her for a few minutes, amazed that there was an actual hooker in front of me. I don't really see a lot of prostitutes up close like that. Then she turned around. OH SNAP! She was about 8 or 9 months pregnant. And the makeup confirmed it. Definitely a pregnant hooker. Oh yeah. I mean, it's slightly possible it was someone dressed up as a pregnant hooker for Halloween, but she didn't realize she had been sleeping for 6 months and that it wasn't October anymore.... There have been a few other alleged "hookers" that i've encountered at the local Walmart before too. But this was by FAR the most hookery hooker i've seen ever (not counting the ones in various red light districts or working a corner down on Van Buren. Those are obvious hookers. They don't count). The fact that she was pregnant made it a million times more fantastic. I bet there aren't many pregnant hookers down on Van Buren. And I'm sure there is a market for that too. There are a lot of weird people out there...

I just remembered something. If you ever do want to bring me out to a whorehouse, then we can go to House of Tricks. That's a nice whorehouse. They took a whorehouse and turned it into a classy restaurant/bar. They serve a delicious appetizer plate of breads, fruit, and cheeses. Lots of different kinds of cheese. And the music isn't loud. Now that's my kind of brothel.

Ahhh silence

2008-03-18T22:24:00.002-07:00

The dogs have stopped barking. I think they stopped sometime between 3 and 4am Monday (at least that's when I fell asleep finally). And I haven't heard a single bark since. A few things may have happened:

1. The owner has been home.

2. The dogs have not been home.

3. The dogs got laryngitis from all the barking.

4. The dogs died.

Not sure what the deal is, but, man, am i not complaining. Got an actual night's sleep last night! And I found some helpful websites about how to train dogs to stop barking. If I hear them ever again, I'm taping them to that asshole's door.

Can dogs be trained to shut the fuck up????

2008-03-17T02:07:00.003-07:00

I love dogs. I have always loved dogs. Anyone who knows me is aware that I love dogs as much as, if not more than people. And puppies? No contest.

But it is 2am. actually, 215am. I've been listening to a chorus of barking for hours now. Some asshole in my building has two dogs that NEVER stop barking. There are at least two dogs. I just went out there at 2am in my pajamas, in the cold, outside, down the stairs, to check this out. I can see those two fuckers through the window. They were pretty upset about me being there. They sure did bark at me a lot. But I've been inside for 25 minutes and they haven't stopped barking... Sigh......

So anyway, here is my question. I hate listening to these dogs bark. I mean, this is a bad situation for all of the neighbors and i can't imagine these dogs are very happy either. But mainly it's about me. I can't sleep. This is officially a problem now. Do I complain? Is there anything that can be done?

I don't complain about my neighbors. I leave them alone, and i hope that they leave me alone. My current neighbors have been super about leaving me alone. And I have never complained about anyone to the apartment manager. But I really am thinking about it now. For weeks i have been listening to hours of barking every day. If I complain to the neighbor directly, then they get pissed off at me and probably don't do anything. Right?

Is there any possible way to train a dog to stop barking? Is this possible? I don't really want to get the dogs evicted. Or god forbid have the owner forced to get rid of them. Then they end up in a shelter. I can't live with that. No. I just want them to shut up.

If anyone has any information about how to stop dogs from barking (other than surgically removing their vocal cords... or murdering them), PLEASE tell me. Do certain dogs just bark all the time? Is it because they are bored? Because they are scared? What causes this? I would like to go knock on their door with some kind of solution to suggest. Although I am on the verge of just shaking my fist and yelling, "PIPE DOWN!" while making a really mean frowny face. But I don't suppose that is likely to work.

Help!

Oh wow, think of the potential!

2008-03-15T23:24:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone. I promise there will be something here eventually, this is a work in progress. And we all know I'm pretty lazy, so it could be a while.

But this is exciting! I can write whatever I want for everyone to see! Although, yes, I realize that very few people (no one?) will really read this thing. But I like to rant and rave about the world and my mediocre existence. What better place to vent my frustrations than the internet, right? Besides, this provides the greatest opportunity for me to make myself look like an ass in front of the most people, without even leaving my house.

Perfect!