S-A, T-U-R, T-U-R...DAY!!

Yes, I am still alluding to various song titles as subject headings...and anyone who got this latest one, is a true connoisseur of music.

This last weekend was my first off in a record 3 weeks. I was looking forward to it from Monday morning, with no particular event included in my plans at all. As the week progressed, work became more and more unbearable. It was the first time in my life when I can honestly say I hated my job. My bosses were stressed, and traveling for business (which puts no one at ease), and I was stuck alone in the office, responding to every frantic email, phone call, and text message; the latter of which were arriving, at times, faster than I could read, let alone respond to.

For these reasons, I was cherishing my weekend before it even arrived. Friday night was flown solo (to no disappointment of my own). I treated myself to sushi and beer on the promenade before seeing a cheesy romantic comedy - all of which hit the spot. I drove home on a then traffic-less freeway, and went to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

The next morning, I awoke earlier than I would have hoped to on a day off to go get my hair cut. And boy did I! I am now sporting a funky, slightly boyish cut reminiscent of Keira Knightley's kick-ass-and-take-names portrayal of the British bounty hunter, Domino Harvey. I forced myself to avoid any mirrors for the first 24 hours, knowing that I would regret my decision. The look is quickly growing on me, and I am loving the no-frills, hassle-free process of getting ready in the morning.

I had been dying to hit up all the amazing thrift stores and flea market in Hollywood for the longest time, and so after a much needed cleaning session in The Bungalow, I headed out. I made it to one store before suddenly realizing how over-worked an exhausted I was, and instead of shopping, opted for a 2.5 midday nap. The day continued with a friend's birthday dinner in Santa Monica, and a late movie at the famous Arclight cinema. Sunday, I finally made it to my thrift stores, and am now sporting a beautiful and beyond comfy sweater, originally priced at a ridiculous $588 dollars by some Italian designer, but purchased by me at $50.

All in all, a good weekend.

22 going on 45

The last few days at work have been stressful, to say the least. I find myself in a job where I am fulfilling the roles of what would be 3 jobs in a normal company, and have been given none of the required training I was promised I would receive - making me just another flaw in a stumbling, start-up company. The last two days, my boss has found reason to make me the scapegoat for her unpreparedness. If I am to screw up my own responsibilities, I understand that there will be a lecture and possible consequences to follow, but to have to deal with the same flack as a result of someone else's mistake - I'm not sure I'm on board with that.

It got so bad that I started researching jobs in the field of travel in the middle of the day yesterday.

You're done with school. Get a career. Settle in. Make a life for yourself. - These are the sorts of obligations that run through my head every time I get the urge to try out a new path. Yet, every time I mention these same thoughts to anyone but my parents, they can't believe that I am serious.

"You're 22! Test the waters! This is not permanent. Do what you want to do before you nail yourself down"

You can imagine how difficult it is to get up in the morning for more abuse after receiving advice like that. For a wanderlust queen like myself, the only thing keeping me from booking my next voyage to a far off land, is the fact that I don't even have enough time to book the ticket. I guess that's a good thing in a way. If I ever cut back to one single job, this could be a problem...

Everyone says I love you

Valentine's Day has always brought a certain grimace to my usually smiling face. I can't even claim that it is for lack of a romantic relationship, for even when having been in one at this certain time of year, I found the whole concept of being romantic on demand ridiculous. Who thinks a Thursday is romantic in the first place? People (especially women) tend to build up the expectations to an unattainable level - leading to ultimate disappointment. And the poor men are most often placed in a damned-if-I-do, damned-if-I-don't situation.

Working in my new office, inhabited almost entirely by women, I decided to go retro on Valentine's ass. This day was oh so fun when we were children - the day of school was broken for an hour for everyone to exchange their colorful Disney I-love-you's, and friends spent the rest of the day taking inventory of their loot and arranging nonsensical phrases with their worded heart candies. No one was left feeling alone or depressed, curled around either A)A bottle of Scotch, or B) a bucket of Ben & Jerry's.

This year, I bought a bunch of the aforementioned Valentine's cards, addressed them to each person in the office, and attached a dark chocolate heart to the inside of each one, before sealing and delivering them to my Valentines. The response was overwhelming - exactly that of a little child. I got more hugs and beaming smiles flashed at me than I have in ages.

That was sooo worth my $10.

Happy Valentine's Day

Only the lonely

The weekend was horrible. There, I'm just going to say it. None of that typical, Samantha spin of the silver-lining shpeel. It was just plain abysmal. This is saying a lot, considering that I actually managed to get both days off from working at the winery, and so technically HAD a weekend to enjoy.

Long story short - people let me down, plans were abandoned, I showed up to work on a day when no one else thought I was meant to be working, and I had nothing to do but laundry. My current mood right now is one of prolonged stagnation and dissatisfaction. In order to remedy this, I am signing on to start taking dance classes about a 15 minute walk from my apartment at least twice a week, and if I don't change my mind in 2 weeks - I'm cutting off all my hair..... again. Yes, that's right. I will no longer be defined by my "Spanish mane" (pun intended). I need a change, and I need more activity in my life besides just work.

So p-p-please, let's do something! I'm open to any and all activities, even if it means me making a fool of myself in some unfamiliar territory. I need an adventure, an experience, or just a good conversation.