My summer in California thus far.
It started out with me, my sis (Stephanie), my mom, and my dad. My parents came to help me move, or rather to make sure my car didn’t explode on the way here (but not without reasonable cause, as you will see if you continue to read further down the page). I packed as much as I could into my teeny-tiny ‘92 Suzuki Sidekick. That 4-wheel-drive car’s a beast when it comes to Flagstaff snow, but not so much California rush-hour traffic. I got those cool space-saver bag thingies to put my clothes in that you vacuum the air out of it. Somehow I managed to fit all my clothes, my air mattress, my rubbermaid dresser, a couple boxes, and my guitar into the car, and I drove out west with the sun in my eyes. Speaking of air mattresses, I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress this whole summer… and last summer too come to think of it. It makes me feel humble (ha, I just called myself humble). I abhor moving (residencies) with all my body, mind, and soul. And so I make it as easy as possible. Somehow the idea of not being able to jam all my worldly belongings into a car and not being able to leave whenever I need to makes me nervous.
When we first got here we went to the Aquarium of the Pacific. I hadn’t been to the aquarium since I was a little girl in Seattle. It was a lot of fun, and ironically enough my favorite part was this bird atrium outside with the Larakeets (which are kind of like small parrots). They’re so so so adorable. I don’t know if you’ve ever owned a pet bird before, but I had a lovebird from the age of 6 to 19. They’re way smarter than you’d think. They have great personalities, and long-term memories, and they mate for life. One bird was separated from his mate for a year while he was undergoing medical procedures. Upon being returned to the atrium, he flew right to his mate (who had remained faithful the whole time) and their relationship went right back to how they were before.
Birds are also pretty intuitive, at least mine was. My bird was named Mango, and he used to chirp when I’d just be thinking about him in the other room. Anyways off that tangent…. I’m pretty good at reading a bird’s body language. And I found a larakeet who looked pretty annoyed at all the people, but I didn’t care, I really wanted a picture of a bird on my shoulder. So I tried to get him on my arm, and I could tell what he was thinking: “Fiiiine. I’ll entertain you for now but then I’m leaving,” and he landed on my arm, climbed my shoulder, moved onto my hood, and flew away, just as promised.
By the time my parents went home I found myself alone in a strange new town. My sis worked an 8am-5pm Mon-Fri job, and in the beginning, I was only working three days a week 5am-9:30am. I was sad and I missed my old coworkers, so sometimes I would pretend I was in Flagstaff Marshalls just for a moment. It occurred to me that the last time I’d ever moved was when I went to college, and that was into a dorm full of other college freshman just like me who were more than eager to make friends. Imagine if you will… going from having every hour of your life scheduled, to ultimate free-time. It was overwhelming.
Slowly but surely I learned to love it here. Those first couple of weeks though, I wrote a song, like, every day. I wrote one about moving to the big city and how I felt so different in my sneakers and jeans while everyone else wore heals and fake nails. I also created a lot, read, a LOT, of art. It’s the artwork that I consider responsible for my half-way-nocturnal-ness (as I’m writing this at 1 in the morning). Almost every time my pencil touched the paper I drew an angel. I guess my subconscious mind likes angels. I also got a few teach-yourself-how-to CD’s. Including but not limited to “Sing With Power” and “U 2 Can Yodel.” Needless to say I found ways to keep myself entertained.
My roommate and I became good friends. We bonded over making fun of the stereotypical Orange County people (read my previous entry about rude customers). I’m just kidding, well kinda. Most of the people I’ve met here are so great, but it’s those few elitist customers that push my buttons. We wondered if OC people know how the rest of the world perceives them.
Well I was a BAMF at work as I proved to the management they were paying me way too much to work at 5 in the morning when I’m the best at nights. And so they up’ed my hours to five nights a week and let me close at the service desk and in the Women’s section.
All my coworkers are so sweet. They make me feel like the most interesting person in the world. Associates I hadn’t even talked to came up to me and said, “I hear you sing. What do you play?” And I’m like, “Uhm I don’t know who you heard that from but… yeeaah I do!” A couple ladies call me the “Arizona girl.” They say, “When does the Arizona girl work next? I’m bringing her food.” And I’ve made a few friends here who I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep for a long time. I don’t know when I got so popular. I remember in high school when people I had classes with since the seventh grade couldn’t remember my name.
One thing about working in busy CA is that, it’s just that, VERY busy at this store. I’m always on my feet and moving. And walking is very good exercise. Did you know you lose more weight walking per hour than swimming? Yeah I didn’t know that. Swimming is more important for building muscle. But walking burns about 500 calories per hour, and when I spend an entire shift doing go-backs and cleaning the Women’s Section, I burn about 3500 calories. Yeah. And then I drink iced coffees for energy. I’m like a humming bird and coffee is my nectar. It sure beats spending the entire day sitting, like last winter; I would sit in the cash office for work in the morning, and then come to school and sit in the classroom, and then sit in the library until it closed at midnight doing homework from hell. And it was too cold to ever go outside (or be anything but blindingly pale), besides the fact that I didn’t have time because I was too anal to fathom ever half-assing my homework. I’m beginning to think that that semester had a profound psychological consequence on my subconscious because I refer to it as the “dark days.”
Anyways, back on topic. I got to go to San Diego to visit my BFF, Alyssa. We watched “500 Days of Summer,” and then Alyssa took me to IKEA for the first time. In case you don’t know, IKEA is like a mega-super-huge furniture store founded in Sweden that has taken the nation by storm… okay perhaps I’m exaggerating, but it is pretty interesting. I mean, I’ve never been to a furniture store with its own little eatery. I thought that was cute. And all along I wanted to pretend we were in the movie, so I’d try to turn on the faucet and say, “Hunny, our sink’s broken!!” But Alyssa would just laugh and walk away.
For Stephanie’s birthday we picked up her best friend, Kristina, and we hit up Disneyland and California Adventure. Yes, I have not been to Disneyland since I was four years old. Naturally I don’t remember a thing, but needless to say this time around it was awesome.
And yes, the rumors are true, the lines are ungodly long. The rides were fun. Waiting to get on a ride is like waiting months and months for a concert that you’re soo excited about. You finally get to see it, and it’s awesome, but after it’s over you’re like, “I waited so long for something so short in comparison.” That’s how I felt about the rides.
Downtown Disney, which is right outside of Disneyland, is where I first laid eyes on Brandi Carlile at her Anaheim concert.
Brandi: Now, if you know me, you KNOW I spent the day in Disneyland
Fan: I SAW YOU!!!!
Brandi: You saw me? Did you see me riding Splash Mountain five times in a row?
Now I can say I know what she’s talking about.
I was walking down a path, and all of a sudden Princess Tiana (from The Princess and the Frog) showed up out of nowhere with her entourage of dancers and musicians. She sang every song from her movie and I lit up with delight, especially because I found myself with front-row-seats.
At California Adventures we rode the Hotel Tower of Terror (I think that’s what it’s called) and California Screamin’ roller coaster. Now THAT’S what I call a ride. And I managed to ride the whole thing without screaming once.
A couple days ago my friend and I went to Los Angeles. I got to see the Hollywood sign in all its glory. We went to this famous record store, Amoeba Music, “the world’s largest independent record store.” Indeed, I’ve never been to a record store that large. It was there that I was introduced to The Zombies, great band. And by “introduced,” I mean, I heard their music for the first time (I didn’t actually see them in person).
We went to this coffee shop that was unlike any coffee shop I’ve seen before (and I’m pretty keen on coffee shops). The inside looked like a ride from Disneyland. It had a room that looked like a forest, complete with interior trees, lights that were meant to look like stars, and a huge moon lamp. The lady working behind the counter seemed so pleasant (it made me wish I loved my job as much as she did). In fact, I’ve never met a coffee shop person who didn’t love their job (that’s been getting the wheel in my head turning). And speaking of coffee shops, my friend and I have been going to open-mic-nights pretty regularly. Open-mic-nights have introduced me to all sorts of different sounds and musics and artists in a short period of time. It inspires me. Once, I came straight home and wrote an entire song in thirty minutes.
Today I had a dentist appointment a couple cities over before work. My tire blew out in the middle of the freeway. I pulled over and turned on the hazards and just sat there. It blew my mind. And then I pulled out the jack and started to change the tire. A nice gentleman pulled over to help me. I’m grateful for good Samaritans like him! I know how to change a tire but it was nice to have someone to help me nevertheless.
The older I get, the more careful I become. I know it’s a biological thing for people in their adolescence to feel like they’re invincible, but every time something like this happens to me (or someone I know) I feel myself coming of age all the more. Life is so precious and so short, that I was way too careful to do anything but drive like a grandma all the way back home.
Well, that brings us to the present, and if you have read this far, I commend you for taking an interest in my life (or for taking a break from whatever you’re supposed to be doing right now).
Analysis:
There’s nothing like moving to a strange town and a strange place to grow in ways that aren’t possible in a familiar, small town. I’ve had a HUGE dose of soul-searching and finding-myself. And now that I’ve lived this lifestyle, I’m very, VERY excited about my future…. I’ve come to the conclusion that big cities with relentless sunshine just aren’t for me. I like overcast, and I like coffee shops and hippies and hipsters and open-mic-nights and street art. In my heart of hearts I’d really like to move to Seattle when I graduate. I know it’s the right decision, because when I think about it, my heart pounds with excitement. It’s one of those things where you just KNOW you’re in the right place at the right time.
I’m grateful I got to do this test-run in California to decide that it is not the place for me. I’m also grateful that I get to have one more year, my senior year, in Flagstaff before I go out into the “real world.” Leaving it and my friends was pretty painful at first, and it took being away from it to realize what I miss and appreciate about my home. Now I have an entire year to enjoy my last bit of college life…. and I’m still going to request Thursday mornings off of work so I can go to Ladies Eighties on Wednesday nights =) Great memories, I tell you.
Ohhh, soooo work stories. I’m not going to lie. I’m not going to lie. The customers here in Orange County are strikingly different from the laid-back, down-to-earth customers of Flagstaff, Arizona.
I’ll preface by saying I’ve met some lovely, down-to-earth customers here who make the working experience worth-while. In fact, about 9 out of 10 customers are very cordial. It’s just those 1 out of 10 that drive me insane. In a nutshell, they tend to be house wives who arrive at my register, plop their stuff on the counter, and completely ignore me when I say hello (unless they want a favor).
The other day, a woman was coming out of the fitting room while I was outside helping a customer.
Lady: Helloooooo?
Me: Sorry! Let me count those for you…
I proceeded to count her outgoing items.
Lady: Just take them! I’m not getting them.
I took her stuff, and turned around to hide my eyelid which was twitching out of severe annoyance. A couple minutes later, she held up two dresses, and turned to me and said:
Lady: Which dress do you like better?
Me: They’re exactly the same. (I said quite matter-of-factly, and walked away).
I used to have this philosophy that the customer is always right, but working here has quickly changed my mind. Customers are people, but so are the associates, and I don’t think it’s fair that customers get mad at the associates for upholding their company policy. When a customer buys something from the store, they agree to the return policy. We’re not trying to be rude or unfair. If we mark something down as a favor to the customer without a reasonable cause, that could result in our own termination. Here is a story that happened today with another lady.
“Can I get some help?” she said, “I need to go to the car to get my returns but this shopping cart locked at the door.”
“Let me help you,” I said politely, following her out the door. “Usually we borrow a shopping cart from next door for big items….”
I was interrupted, “I’m surprised you do that. I find it unacceptable to just go and steal another store’s shopping cart.”
Woah, I thought. “Uhh, we don’t steal them… and we’d rather our carts didn’t lock at the door for this reason but we can’t control it,” I said, “We borrow them and return it… they’re totally cool with it,” (I was a little too flabbergasted to find anything better to say).
“I just think that’s so unacceptable,” she said, and then continued to banter the same point but worded differently every time.
We got to her car and I found that I could easily transport her returns without a cart. We returned to the store and were met with a jam-packed line of people.
“Here you go!” I said brightly, “The line starts over there.”
“My mom’s already there at the front of the line.” She pointed to her mom, who was camped out at my register. Somehow I didn’t believe that she stood in line but I just went with it.
“Alright-y. How can I help you?”
“We have a return.”
“Cool, do you have your receipt.”
“No.”
“Ohhh, okay. Without a receipt, I can’t give you cash back. I can give you store credit—”
I was once again interrupted. “I have the credit card I paid with and all the tags are attached and you can clearly tell that I purchased these here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “But I need your receipt or else the computer won’t let me give you cash back.”
“This is unacceptable. I have the credit card and the tags and everything. I mean, this was a six hundred dollar purchase. I’m not going to take this stuff all the way back home only to come all the way back.”
“It’s just—”
“My receipt is all the way back in Houston. I’m not gong to take this stuff all the way back to Houston just to return it.”
“I’m sorry but—”
“I mean, this is a big corporation. This is just unacceptable. Obviously I bought this from here. I need to speak with a mana—”
This time I interrupted her, “Would you like to talk to my manager? He’s right there.”
My manager helped her for another twenty years while she continued to argue with him as well. After about a half-century of arguing he cut her a deal. He said they would return the items on store credit, and then she could go home and get her receipt and exchange the credit for cash.
And you know, the best part is, she didn’t even say thank you. That’s what I don’t understand. We wiggle our way around the company’s return policy, potentially putting ourselves on the line, just because a customer neglected to bring her receipt. And we’re generally cool about marking things down when they’re messed up or whatever, but I wish customers would cut us some slack. We’re not “the man.” We’re not “out to rip them off.” We’re just trying to do our jobs. And she even got the district manager’s phone number to complain. I was like…… wow. Okay.
Those experiences tend to bring me down. Now picture that happening at least once a day, and you can imagine why I miss Flagstaff Marshalls a lot!
My most favorite Leona Lewis cover
I liked Lady Gaga before she was cool
Lady Gaga (via fuckyeahrocknrollquotes) (via spectralradiance) (via directactioniswitchcraft) (via emilyankrom) (via the-abcs-of-life) (via nikkyanjuli)
Dear President Bush Sarah Palin & Co.*,
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God’s Law. I have learned a great deal from you and understand why you would propose and support a constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage. As you said “in the eyes of God marriage is based between a man a woman.” I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18: 22 clearly states it to be an abomination . . End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God’s Laws and how to follow them.
1. Leviticus 25: 44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21: 7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness - Lev. 15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev. 1: 9. The problem is, my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35: 2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11: 10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this? Are there degrees of abomination?
7. Lev. 21: 20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11: 6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19: 19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and aspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24: 10-16. Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20: 14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, as well, you have a direct line to God so I am confident you can help
Thank you again for reminding us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging.
Simon & Garfunkel - Cecilia
I would say that I have too much free time or nothing productive to do, but actually, I have a lot I should be doing right now. But where would we be without my frequent Brandi Carlile quote updates?
On her stay in LA while recording her third CD, “Give Up the Ghost.”
“It was hard to stay in LA because big cities and relentless sunshine make me feel lonely. I tried yoga…thought it was weird but I’ll try it again. I tried sushi…thought it was weird but I’ll try it again. And we all got a tennis lesson from a Porsche driving middle-aged divorcee who told us to pretend he was a tiger and we were his prey…won’t try that again.”
I should mention my new inspiration to start cooking.
It occurred to me that my diet is pretty humiliatingly bad. I figured the $2, $4, $6, $8 menu from Denny’s was a good way to save money, but then I realized it was at the expense of my health.
For instance, the biscuits and gravy alone are 570 calories. The hash browns are 218. That’s nearly 800 calories for one $2 meal. To think that I was consuming 800 calories for crap food was abhorring.
And when it was not restaurant food or fast food, it was frozen burritos, frozen hot pockets, frozen this… frozen that… Pretty much the only healthy thing I’d eat was a cantaloupe (Btw I’ve recently discovered from the automatic spell check that I’ve been spelling ‘cantaloupe’ wrong my entire life).
In light of my recent fascination with smoking and public drunkeness (you’re only young once, after all), I decide it’s about time I “grow up,” and at least work on my diet so that my whole health doesn’t crap out (I’m going to hang on to the whole drunk thing for a little while longer).
I’ve discovered that it feels a lot better to make your own food. For instance, a package of raw chicken tenderloins are about $4.50 at Wal-mart. All you gotta do is wash them, slap some salt and pepper, and stick them in the oven, and wala, you’ve got yourself some good chicken. Whereas a meal at KFC is disgustingly expensive, we’re talking like, $6-$8.
I don’t know why I’m late on the bandwagon to figure this thing out. I guess it’s because I’ve spent 2 out of 3 years in college on a meal plan, so I’ve had the luxury of not having to cook. But now it’s time to live for today, and to live for the future.
In Austin a few years ago Brandi and the Twins were coming off a stretch where they had opened for The Fray. She had nothing but great things to say about the band or the experience, but mentioned that their fan demographic was a bit different. She said,
“Their crowd consisted almost entirely of 16 year old girls. They weren’t quite ready for me yet. Maybe when they get to college…”
An undercurrent of steadily rising laughter came up from the audience.
Brandi heard it, thought about what she’d just said, and proceeded to blush about as bright as I’ve ever seen her.
“That’s not what I meant! You guys….”
James Hopkins creates these amazing images using everyday household items. Love them!
I decided I’m going to write in this thing more regularly if I hope to keep my loyal fans (all four of them). This is a play-by-play of my last couple of days.
I just came from one of my high school best friend’s 21st birthday party! Happy birthday Danielle! It’s nice to “go back in time,” back to high school… Some things never change. I even played Beer Pong on the exact same pool table that I learned how to play it on.
I gave my fifth tour at the Riordan Mansion. For those of you who haven’t heard, the Riordan Mansion is the historic homestead of a family who helped build Flagstaff, Arizona. During my training to be a tour guide, I’d ask the other volunteers if there was any strange ghostly activity. They all told me they’d never seen anything… but I didn’t buy it. I always get this weird feeling someone’s watching me when I’m in there, especially by myself. Well, the other day while I was giving a tour, one of the guests told me I had dropped something. I turned around to pick it up, and saw that one of the cabinet doors to a 1900’s record player opened by itself. I would have bolted out of there if I hadn’t have had a 14-person tour with me!
I had a good time at pride weekend, although I spent most of it working. There were quite a few great performers, but by the time I got off work, it was cold and rainy (yes, in June), and standing outside wasn’t optimal. It sure beats Phoenix pride, where, for a good twenty minutes, I was sure I’d get a heat stroke!!
We had a kickback at Erika’s house (I’m not sure if she’ll ever read this, but I figured I’d plug her anyways). She conveniently lives in the same apartment complex as me, so I didn’t have to worry about drinking and driving. Natalie was there visiting! It was great to see her again.
Now I’m relaxing at my parent’s house for the last time before I move to California for the rest of the summer. I’ve been taking guitar lessons (don’t ask me how a starving college student such as myself can afford them). They’ve been really helpful, and every chance I get, I’ve been grabbing the guitar and practicing my picking patterns. I always believed that if you want something bad enough, you gotta make it happen; you gotta visualize that you already have it and it will be yours. That’s my philosophy — that’s why I’ve been practicing so much.
Lately I’ve been hooked on this song — “Speechless,” by Lady Gaga. I expect it will be all over the radios in the near future if it isn’t already. I’ve been playing it on the guitar. The song is so beautiful and it has such great intensity and texture, that I want to do it more justice than to just make it sound “pretty.” So I’ve been experimenting around with different capo placements and whatnot. I’ve been practicing belting it, and I’ve been experimenting it with or without a strong vibrato. We shall see.
Well, that is all I can think of for now =) I have a lot of homework for my summer classes… one of them is geography. Geography is hard for me, especially because I’m a history major, and using that part of my brain is just lost on me.
