Turkey b!tchfest

It’s true, I don’t like driving. I can’t look out the window for long, nor can I just drift off to sleep. There’s just something about having another person drive… Plus, people in San Francisco can’t drive. That being said, I think I should make it my goal to either stop commuting back home, live here and use Muni until I decide to move…. Or just get a chauffer, you know, when I make it big.

My sister made me book tickets to see the Harry Potter movie this Wednesday, before Turkey day. I’m excited; I really want to see it though I have heard negative reviews from others. I don’t think it’s possible to stuff book number four into a two hour (almost) movie. And Daniel Radcliffe irks me with his sub par acting. Goodness, you’d think after three movies, he would have learned something by now. Still, I can’t judge yet since I haven’t seen it. But I think I might be right about him anyway.

After that, it’s dinner with the extended family on my mom’s side in huffy puffy Los Altos. Thanks to my yoga instructor aunt, I look forward to eating tofurkey, sugar-free cranberry sauce, fat-free gravy with some kind of a healthy version of mashed potatoes (possibly soy in some form)… and organic apple cider. And of course we’ll have lots and lots of salad, with vinaigrette and whole wheat buns. Gawd. Maybe I can siphon from a bottle of wine somewhere to mask the taste of healthy for a few seconds. It’s worth a try. Maybe my chef cousin from Boston will be there, maybe there’s still hope. Maybe we’ll be eating fancy turkey with some sort of a twist (which kind of defeats… oh never mind). Maybe lack of sleep is making me delusional, totally blocking reason and replacing it with misguided hope.

I think I should bring a book, though I doubt I’ll be reading anything. I’ll be forced to help out with serving the delicious dinner and trying to avoid the barrage of questions from various nosey relations. I remember my mom asking me if I wanted to come since my cousin invited me (to show off her house) and all I can think of is… Yeah. I’ll go. Just to get it over with. Maybe I won’t have to see them again for another year or so.

Ah. Holidays. They bring out the best in me.

Did I mention that I have to work the Friday after Thanksgiving? The market is open, so we have to be open. But it’s not like I’ll be so laden with delicious food and good times the night before that it’ll be a struggle to get up to work. If anything, it’ll be the opposite.

I’m going to hell.

But I know that already.

Happy Thanksgiving! I’m sure I brightened your day with this post.

At least you’ll have pie. Made with real sugar.

This is it...

I never really liked driving. If were ever given a chance to have someone else drive, I'd let them. Even the crazy suicidal ones... Monday was a different story though. Driving invloves some form of concentration; very little of it is required but enough so that my mind won't wander. So I was glad to not be thinking about too many things while my little car bore the brunt of natural wear and tear at the speed of 80 mph. More or less.

I got my hair chopped off this weekend, because I wanted a trim but somehow got about 4 inches taken off. Now it's too short to be tucked behind my ear and stay in place or be tied up, yet too puffy to be let down. Silly puffy hair with no style.

I spent most of the evening chatting with a co-worker about how the compnay sucks and how we both want to leave desperately and we will once we find a better job. Knowing me, I might have to stay for over a year if they don't fire me. Things are starting to settle down, and I don't like it one bit. Same routine over and over. I'm feeling so old.

Lucienne Crozier

"Why do some people become completely immersed in the events of their time while their closest friends, the very people on the other side of the wall, are passed by? The latter continue to live their lives as if, barring the seasons, each day were undiscernably just like the last."

L.C. by Susan Daitch

I think it happens all the time, people drift apart. I've become close to not caring anymore.

A normal night

Well, my roommate left last night to stay over at her boyfriend's place (for once) so I got to sleep in peace in the room I paid for on my bed. Sheesh, I never thought I'd be grateful for that but I am.

And congrats to me! I'm uninsured so my life is worth squat should I happen to have an accident. Gawd, something really needs to change in my life.

I put my phone in my boob

So, out of boredom, being a socially inept person, and failing my midterm that day, I went with my roommates to the Castro to celebrate Halloween. I, along with Phillip, didn’t wear a costume but Nancy, Susan, Esme, and Steven got down and dressed up (or down depending on how you see it).

We were on Judah and 19th waiting for the J train, Nancy was drunk by 9 and Phillip and I ended up being her human crutches for the night. The train just got more and more crowded the closer we got to our final destination. A little less than halfway through our trip, the train is already starting to get packed when this lady gets on. Each successive stop after that, new people would get on, pushing me and the lady further into the train.

Out of mutual frustration, we started talking to each other. She broke the ice by asking if the train was at Castro yet and I asked her where she was headed. Just her luck to get off work and meet a train full of freaks (more than usual, people go all out here especially when you get to dress up). Her plan was to go home and watch a scary movie. But she told me to have fun and be careful once I got to my stop. What I love about this city is that people are so nice, especially when it comes to complementing on other people’s costumes or making small talk on the train.

The whole area was a huge outdoor dance club; a platform was placed in the cross section of Castro and some street I can’t think of right now. But half the time it was a whole group of us squeezing through the crowd trying to find one another and standing outside dance clubs waiting for the other half of the group to get us into the club. During that time, Nancy proclaimed she loved everyone and that she wasn’t drunk. Some were dancing or smoking, or both.

All I can say is I came, I saw, I left. I wouldn’t mind going back to take pictures though.

Warning: Complaints ahead!

So my room smells like weed. Well, I came home smelling like that but I’m talking about my whole wardrobe. My bed sheets, my clothes, my books… smell like a cannabis club. I was thinking of maybe changing my sheets this week because it’s what I do. I change sheets when it’s time to change them. I decided not to change them since they would end up smelling like pot because my roommate smokes it in the room with her boyfriend. She’s showering with him right now, and he was in our room last night. After I came back from celebrating, I ended up sleeping on the couch because it would be weird to sleep in a room with them. I had a better night’s sleep in the living room than I ever did in my room. And that’s wrong. But I’m moving after this month so, whatever. Nancy, in her drunken stupor, kept telling me not to leave and was worried about her phone. So silly, I like everyone except for you know who.

He better not stay here tonight. I have three weeks left after this… I really want to go on vacation. Right now.