2009 recap!

In 2009, I reemerged and re-acclimated to American living. Since then, I go back and forth between loving and hating my little American life and several times have kicked around the idea of moving to España.
I saved my pennies.
I broke up with my boyfriend.
I took a trip to Roma/Venezia and Paris/Bordeaux. Then, took a 2 week road trip around España. It was a mega blast. I reconnected with my old friends from RUC and re-fell in love with Europe.
I came home with my bank account overdrawn and little-to-no work to speak of. I floundered financially and just was not able to make it work at Hilltop Yarn. So, I found a job at Starbucks. This was not an immediate fix, as my training store only gave me 20 hrs/week and was paying me nearly $2/hr less than my agreed upon wage. For another month, I struggled.
Now, here I am. I cashed out a 401K I had to get back on my feet financially. I am paying my rent w/o over drafting my account.
All-in-all, life is good. I have friends. I have food. I have comfort. I can't complain.

Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch.

bad date(s)

there are many reasons why i am not ready to reemerge into the dating world. the ones at the forefront are:
the fact that i am recently out of a long-term relationship with a person with whom i still keep close contact--in fact, he is probably reading this right now. that makes for uncomfortable feelings around meeting a future ex-boyfriend. and...
the fact that i don't know what i want in my very near future. it is hard to anchor yourself to someone if you think you might be about to shuffle your life about.
however, in an effort to pass the time, i have signed up for an online dating site. this is my okcupid profile. you can go to it and tell me how datable i am, a perfect 10--really?!
what i have found so far, dating is hazardous to my health. First off, dating makes me stay up far too late on nights that i know i have to wake up early the next day and run the 1st starbucks. Second, bees. Third, apparently, dates make me catch a cold.
I had a brunch date with a man I met at a party. Indi, was nice enough at the party to warrant the release of my precious contact information. upon contact, he invited me to lunch at the B&O Espresso. I thought wonderful! I have history at this place. It is where I spent a good portion of my time upon landing in Seattle. I imagined being rushed with favorable memories.
I arrived a few minutes early--i shocked even myself be this fete. i ordered an espresso, as I had not yet had my morning cup of coffee and did not want to come across as a fiend, and read my book. As i watched a fly do what it does--fly--i thought quietly to myself, "gross." then, when i saw it land i was petrified and screamed silently in my head, "BEE!" I looked up for a friendly face on the wait staff to come and rescue me from my bee woes. i made eye contact with a familiar face, smiled out of habit, then scanned my brain for the file this face was in. i found it in the "short-term romantic stints with messy endings" file.
"FUCK!" Now I was trapped in my seat because, i'd rather get stung than have to force polite discussion with this guy. it didn't occur to me that a place with history might also have some residual baggage.
i read my book until i felt like i would burst, flinging the table over while frenetically shouting, "BEE! BEE! BEE!" then, i got up and urgently flagged down a waiter in the most low-key, casual manner i could muster.
The waiter gallantly squished him with his wet bar towel and announced, "dead." as he pulled the towel away, much to our chagrin, we realized not in fact dead. try #2 was also a failed attempt. then, he got more frantic. it turns out that he is allergic to bees. finally, the bees met its maker and i could safely return to my seat.
to make matters worse, i was sitting in the least enjoyable spot from an ambient perspective. the sun was looming just over my head. this made reading a dream. however, anyone who looked at me would immediately scrunch their face into a pained squint and quickly look away. it made me feel as though I looked like rocky dennis and my face resembled a lion.
After much ado, Indi showed up and we had a nice brunch. afterward, we wandered around volunteer park (including the green house and the Seattle Asian Art Museum). It was all good and dandy, but I suddenly became very tired.
The next day I awoke with a heinous cold. i blame dating. i don't think anything but stress and sickness will come out of venturing into date land, but am willing to be proven wrong.

Anti-Deodorant Dissertation

I am not willing to come out and say that I am explicitly against deodorant. Quite the contrary. In fact, I find the idea amazing. I often ponder the person who came up with the idea and how they pitched it in their head. (Light bulb enters stage right and pauses for a brief moment before pulling its own string and turns itself on. Simultaneously, Dr. Jules Bernard Montenier let's out an audible "EUREKA!") All one need do is rub this magic salve under your arms and smell like a rose all day long. Some are strong enough for a man, but pH balanced for a woman. Others claim that anything else would be uncivilized. This is all good stuff. What I don’t like is the idea of cramming aluminum into my pores and calling it a day. The idea terrifies me. I know that there is "evidence" that a lot of these adverse health "findings" are totally "bogus." Still, the idea gives me a serious case of the wiggins, which is why I am a soley deodorant wearer. No aluminum for moi.
Now, if you are a woman who does not wish to use anti-perspirant, the deodorant endeavor becomes even more interesting. It is impossible to walk into any drug store and find what you need. Also, when I did, it was always baby powder scent. Have you smelt righteous BO mixed with baby powder? It’s like baby diarrhea to the nth degree. It is terrible. I have tried the various hippy brands and don’t get me started, don't even get me started. Now, I know why hippies smell. It's not the patch pants or the disdain of contributing to a market economy—it’s the effing deodorant! My compromise is to buy men’s deodorant. Only a few scents do I find truly repulsive on me and, incidentally, they are also the scents I find repulsive on men. Musk is the number one turn off. If I smell a musky underarm I get to packing. Generally, I am a speed stick girl. However, lately, the original has been letting me down. So, in an attempt to reduce my stank factor, I decided to try the irish spring inspired scents. The first one was a hit. I smelled faintly of soap and water. It was awesome. Then, I got cocky. If one in this scent line was good they must all be, right? WRONG. The Speed Stick Irish Spring Icy Blast smells like leprechaun taint. Everytime I lift my arm I think I am smelling the sweaty under carriage of a lumberjack. I get someone else to smell me and they say they smell cologne. It is enough to drive a sistah crazy. Now, I am forced to wash shirts after every wear that I might otherwise wear 2-3 times between washes.
It is for this reason that I find myself in a frenetic state--head to the wall, fists pounding and cursing the man who started it all: Dr. Jules Bernard Montenier. Damn you straight to hell, mister.