Wanderlust Queen

Ok, so the actual song title is "Wanderlust King", but you're going to have to allow me this slight adjustment this one time.

So here's the sitch....My job is a dead end, and quickly coming to a close anyway. The company has not signed one job in the six months since it's opening, and my 3 months here have been without training, leadership, management, or company. The time is fast approaching to move on.

In addition to this, my rent is too high, my bills too many, and my pay too low. I have 2 jobs, and am pretty much unwilling to sacrifice any more time for yet another employer. I need an improvement, or if nothing else, a change. I have just returned from a whirlwind two and a half day respite in Colorado staying with my godparents and playing in the snow. It was wonderful to be outside again, in a new locale, and feeling the wonderful exhaustion at the end of the day that can only come from having used one's body all day. It is a feeling I have missed sitting at this desk for the last 3 months. It was, however, too short-lived to provide the rejuvenation that I was hoping it would.

The one plus side of having a rather large credit card bill at the end of every month, is that it means more air miles for Sammy. I was wise to pay the $30/year to get the rate of 2 air miles to every $1 spent, as opposed to the 1 to 1 rate. My miles are quickly reaching the point where I will be able to cash them in for a sweet sweet escape south of the border. So here's the deal - I'm aiming for Thanksgiving break, if not sooner, and my destination in mind is pretty much anywhere south of Mexico. This means Belize, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, etc. It's cheap once you get there, the landscape/seascape is unmatched, and I can practice my Spanish.

So in the words of old blue eyes, aka, Frank , "So come with me, let's fly, let's fly away. " I need my friends to rally, and pull together in the name of R and R.



Come on. You know you want to....

Today

I have:

1. hit the snooze button 5 times before getting out of bed at 7am

2. showered

3. made tea

4. dressed

5. watched 5 minutes of a news special on Humpback whales

6. drank tea

7. driven to work in rush hour traffic

8. sorted through invoices, made calls, and researched the Cannes Advertising Festival

9. Called Delta for the 3rd time

10. drank tea

11. Called Delta for the 4th time

12. Discussed future work possibilities

13. Canceled a reservation at Benihana for 6 people (not my own)

It's Tuesday. The sun is not coming out. My company doesn't have work. It's Tuesday. Everyone here is depressed and sombre.

Did I mention it's Tuesday?

When the world hands you lemons....

...Put them in a Corona, and drink up!!

At least that was the conclusion to yesterday's attempt at celebrating the introduction of Catholicism to Ireland...aka, Drink-Green-Beer Day.

After having plans fall through for an official St. Patrick's Day party, my friend Lisa and I decided to make our own fun. There is a strange overabundance of British and Irish pubs in downtown Santa Monica, so we decided to throw on some green and partake in the traditional pint (or pitcher) of beer and some fries. After carefully selecting just the right place, we approached the door only to have a real life authentic Irishman (yes, they outsourced just for the occaision) tell us that there was a $20 cover charge.

"What?!?! Ah, Heeeeellll no!" Proclaimed Lisa, pulling me down the street in doing so.

It only took about 50 paces for the following conversation to take place:

"What the heck? I'm not paying 20 bucks to have ONE beer!"
"Well every place is going to have a cover charge. If only you could drink in public here...This nation is flawed!!!"
"We should just have our own party at your place....WAIT! Don't you still have all those Coronas in your fridge from when your Australian friend was supposed to visit?!??"
"YES!! A whole case!"
"There's Whole Foods - let's get green food coloring and snacks!"
"Saaaweeeet! GO!"


So there you have it. St. Patty's on a budget. Best one yet, I say - Mexican beer or not.

Jaded (yes, still a song title)

Stopped at an intersection, late on my way to work this morning, I sat and watched a large Arrowhead water truck turn onto the road ahead of me. In doing so, about a dozen large, full water-cooler-sized water bottles came flying out of the side of the truck, spilling all over the road and sidewalk. Luckily, no one was walking (no one walks in this city) down the sidewalk at the time. The light turned green, and I deliberated with myself as to whether or not I should pull over and help clear the bottles before they became any more of a problem to the heavy morning traffic.

I did not stop. I continued on my way, justifying my lack of participation by the late time and my crunch to get to the office on time. As I passed, I saw a homeless man approach the Arrowhead employee, and help him by clearing the street of the debris.

I hated myself for not pulling over. Living in Paris, I continually watched old women stumble in the subway, businessmen drop their belongings, and I always tried to lend a hand. So many people made an effort to look the other way, walk faster, change direction, all so they didn't have to participate. I hated this, and only hoped that one day when I would land flat on my face, that I wouldn't be treated as sidewalk roadkill.

The fact that this has been plaguing me for the last 6 hours reassures me in believing that I am not a completely lost cause, but the fact that I even did this makes me fear for the effect that this city, and the haste that it employs in it's citizens, has taken on me. I am promising myself that I will continue to acknowledge the people and events that surround me, and not to ignore or reject them so I can continue on my way.

Think happy thoughts...

I am going to temporarily forget the fact that my boss sent me 9 emails between the hours of 7 and 8am this morning, and instead write what I had been meaning to p.s. to all of you since my last post....

Despite the unlikelihood of my suspicion, it has turned out to be nevertheless true - parrots are living in the trees outside my apartment!!

On the rare occasion that I was actually able to have a lie in at my apartment in Los Angeles, I would sit there, half awake half asleep, listening to the unusual birds outside my window, and would reminisce of the tropical birds that would serve as my alarm clock in Australia. I kept wishing that it were true; that I was still listing to the songs of the Rosella, and Ibis, and not just another house sparrow or dirty crow. This last weekend, upon returning from an extended stroll through the neighborhood, I turned down my street only to glance up and see two medium-sized green parrots swoop out of one massive palm tree, and into another.

I am smiling just thinking about it.

Ish ma burfday

There were many times in the last week or so when I could have sat down to write a scathing review of my professional, and personal life. The job was rough, and treating me equally so, which in turn, lead to my personal life (or the lack thereof) being lackluster. There was more than one occasion when I was ready to pack up, and ship off -preferably to a foreign country on the other side of the world, where the presence of such challenges as learning a new language, or adjusting my ingrained cultural behavior would have been a welcomed change, and beautifully effective distraction from the frustration that my current situation has put upon me.

Instead, I am choosing to write about the glorious weekend that has just come to pass.

After a long week of exhaustion and disappointment, my Birthday came on Friday. I was informed that I was going to be treated to lunch by my bosses, and so generously accepted. My employer offered to drive me to the restaurant, and as we were approaching, Andrea was beaming with excitement. As we turned the corner, I saw that we were arriving at a quaint little establishment called Le Petit Café.

"We're taking you back to Paris for your birthday!!" Andrea gushed. I was touched. How thoughtful and generous. Alex, the other party of this husband-wife dynamic duo was there to meet us. After stumbling through a bit of French with the owner, and receiving "felicitations" for my happy "anniversaire", we were seated. I was happy to find a genuine French menu with plenty of variety. I ordered poached salmon, with fries - extra dill sauce. I savored the salmon, and used my experience with the French cuisine to mop up the extra sauce with the fries. Delish.

Over lunch, the couple surprised me with a small box, beautifully wrapped. In it, a necklace that, while I would have never chosen for myself, have proceeded to wear for the last 3 days straight. Even more, I returned to the office after lunch to find an array of beautiful cupcakes, worthy of Alice's tea party, and a group of singing office colleagues. ...I am spoiled, it is true.

That evening, my family met me at my apartment to don me with gifts, and treat me to yet another amazing meal.

The rest of the weekend was filled with friends, and plenty of outdoor activities - something that had been missing from my life the last few weeks. I took an extended walk/jog through my surrounding neighborhoods Saturday morning, went grocery shopping, cleaned, and kept every single window in my apartment open all day. It was fantastic. I went to a club with some good friends that night, and awoke Sunday morning to spend half of the beautiful day at the Rose Bowl flea market in Pasadena, where I practiced restraint and only purchased one dress, after talking the vendor down to 15 of the originally 25 dollar price. I caught up with a friend I had not seen in years over lunch, and proceed to catch up even further over a few chilly ones at a patio bar, and then all the way through dinner and into the night.

This was exactly what the doctor ordered. Now, if I could only get another dosage...