Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Awesome encounter with The Spectacular Specimen

Awesome encounter...

This is probably the best encounter ever. If you're in a spinny chair, get ready to go nuts...like the 11 year old in my presence currently. I found myself warning, "Hey...make sure you don't throw up over there." Don't you wish I could teach your future children?

So, we'll call this male the "Spectacular Specimen (SS)" mostly because I don't remember his name, he obviously made quite the impression ;) He described what he desperately wishes others would notice about him, like so...

"People always think I'm a player because of my outward appearance..." My left eyebrow rises at this point. SS continues, "I'm so sick of people calling me things like 'Brad Pitt' and 'Hollywood' ya know? I wish people would see my loving and godly heart instead." This is where I nod my head, in compassion for this poor man who thinks his special, special looks are so troubling. Little does he know, there's that little piece of "nice guy" missing in him....humility...and if you're anything like myself, a healthy amount of some goofiness! Frosting on top of the cocky cake..."It's like when a 7 ft tall person gets told over and over, 'Wow you're tall!'" Really that's what it's like? So Spectacular Specimen, you're saying that it's not an opinion that you're good looking, it is in fact, a FACT?! Wow. Here is the question that floods my mind: If you are in fact SO spectacular looking, why do you have to tell me about it? I actually have another question too...How much product did it take to get that faux-hawk up and runnin?! Now I'm just curious. I've definitely dated "Fancy hair guy." There are enough things to argue about in a relationship...I don't want to have to worry about someone occupying my straightener and using up my palmade.

Good luck to SS, finding a gal who loves her some good lookin, God lovin, men!

Monday, April 27, 2009

Spinny Chairs

Things I learned over the past 24 hours:

1. I had a dirty spoon in my purse all weekend. How do you not notice a dirty spoon in your purse? I need to slow it down. It was in a zip lock baggie thank goodness! No one wants crusty yogurt residue on their wallet.

2. When giving a standardized test (remember the kind with the scan trons and #2 pencils!)...do not let kids sit in spinny chairs...especially the ADHD kids. Give them a smile and a loving shoulder tap when they start to tie and re-tie their shoes or stare into space. Also, make them put their retainer case in their backpack so that they don't play with it during the test. Anything for a distraction! (Man, do I feel that?!!!)

3. Chinese people love karaoke. 'Nuf said.

4. It's possible for someone to be good looking AND good on paper ;)

5. Working 12 days straight without a day off is NOT good for my zen...or my exercise schedule.

6. I don't like ham sandwiches.

Sunday, April 26, 2009


On most days the first thing I do upon pulling myself outta bed, an inevitable daily struggle, is put on my iHome. Since I usually can't even figure out what day of the week it is when initially awoken, I definitely never remember what my iPod, located in the iHome of course (Look at me I'm a techy!), was last playing. Hence, I'm left at a loss as to what it will continue to go on playing now.

Today, once at the bathroom sink brushing away the morning breath, I realized it was on an album by Bon Iver, one of my crazes of '08. This tells me two things (which is probably plenty to handle this early in the morning): 1. The last time I had the pod playing I must have been feeling a combo of down and/or mellow. Bon is definitely for when I'm in a certain place emotionally...leave it to a girl to associate her simple morning ritual with feelings! 2. I can expect that this album will continue playing as my getting ready routine goes on...put in contacts, Bon Iver in the background, change shirt 3X, Iver will still be on! I not only can expect the artist I'll be hearing, but even the song to anticipate next. No surprises. Since the album is on my very own iPod, obviously it's one I know I'll enjoy.

Not all mornings are this predictable, there are those days when I hit the iHome's "ON" button and its set to "shuffle songs." Given the fact that if you are reading this you know at least a little bit about technology (being able to navigate the world wide web and all) I'll assume you are familiar with the "shuffle" feature. Important note: If you don't know, find out soon, it'll change your world. My shuffle is definitely NOT predictable. It can go anywhere from Miles Davis and Michael Buble to Bob Marley and Fergie Ferg. There are moments when I interfere with the shuffle and skip something, heading toward the next random selection. Then there are the times where a song comes on and because it's an unexpected one I love, I'm even more excited to hear it! Maybe I forgot I had it or maybe it was just perfect for the current state of mind (there I go again, with the emotions! Note: I do not apologize. It's how we're wired!)

Now guess where my washer machine mind is going with this...that's right, a connection to life! I've realized recently that when my life is too structured (relative of course) I find myself itching to do something out off the ordinary, STAT! Sometimes these "out of the ordinaries" aren't the greatest of plans for me. But I can't help but think, "Yea, I like Bon Iver, but I need a little curve ball sometimes. Do I want to hear a whole album of hip hop, most likely not, but thrown in between some good "shuffled" mellow jams, it can be a pretty good time!

Here's what iThink...There's got to be a balance somewhere, between structure and disheveled (or dis-shuffled?) where although I may skip through a song or two, I'm content hearing everything on my iPod. Staying away from extreme structure (an entire album, going going gone, until I freak out!) and allowing myself to enjoy a nice, balanced amount of the shuffle...without being addicted to the chaos of it all. Does this mean micro-managing the iHome and not letting it do it's thing? Definitely not. How boring would it be to chose every individual song I hear...


Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Hmmmm on a Hump Day

I think it's actually pretty nasty sounding...hump day that is. I can't resist using it though. It truly is the hump of the week that once you get over, makes getting to the weekend seem far shorter. I'm back at work after having 2 weeks off. And a fabulous 2 weeks they were indeed. I can't help but feel like I'm going through this week underwater. Like I have a snorkel and can breathe and all, but instead of really feeling and experiencing each moment of the day, I'm just sort of...swimmin through it, and looking at fish. I seem to be thinking a lot...weird that never happens. I tend to go in circles, remember my spin cycle allusion? Here's a little sample platter of my wonderment:

When do we get to the point in our lives where we are hardcore, bonified over-achievers? Where we actually like going above and beyond (aside from in our relationships, that seems pretty natural) and thrive on our productivity and success? Is it possible that the "yellows" of the world just don't ever get there? It's like a wise, boyfriend of a friend (don't you feel like you know him) once said, "Sure, I could've worked hard at playing the trumpet, been first chair in the high school band (instead of playing football) but that wouldn't really get me to the top of the social ladder I don't think." So true. See the connection?

How terrible is it to live in the now...where's the balance? Today vs. Future? Is it leading a "double life" to have some parts totally in the present and other parts of you are completely dreamy and in the future?

If we make blanket statements...not that I ever would of course....are they self (or other people)-fulfilling prophesies? Is it even possible that someone would have the ability to disprove our BS (blanket statements) once we've made them engraved in our minds?

And a less mind-washer machine thought: Man, I'm really craving pepperoni pizza!

Saturday, April 18, 2009

I'm too smart to study

This is absolutely false.
It seems like a good excuse, leaving out the fact that it's untrue of course. I am definitely not too smart to study. But, I can't help but feel like it's a waste of my precious time! Spring Break is in fact over in 24 hours. Remind me of my arrogance when I have to re-take my $130 California Teachers mandated test.

I'm at T-2 hours and cannot study any more! Don't be fooled. This statement makes it sound as if I've been nose deep in study guides for months. Also false. I've studied a total of 3 days...in actual hours...probably an hour and a half, rounding up. I was at my favorite coffee shop (fave mostly because it's 10 feet from my front door) the past two mornings. The delicious "Surfing Goat" breakfast sandwich and mochas help, I'll admit.

I just want to get it over with! It's so clear to me, in situations like this more than ever, that I am the antithesis of a typical teacher personality. I'm tellin ya, the gals in my program LOVED studying, and were good at it! They talked a mile a minute about how productive their weekends were and tales of teacher verbiage that I generally tuned out. Most of my weekends back then were productive too. I had hit up way more bars than the average San Diegan, and had probably accumulated more sleep too. Rest is very important.

It's a good thing the kiddos keep me loving my trade. Because I'm tellin' you, those Elementary school teachers are trippin. In my opinion, if I can study 1/2 (probably an 1/8 realistically) the amount of what they do, and still pass, why would I take away from my beach time/social life and study any more than that? Life is just too short babes!

So here's my excuse, and I'm stickin' to it...
I'm too smart to study.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Which girl are you gonna fluff?

I always envy those sales people who are so enthralled with their product that their enthusiasm nears eerie. After being fitted for my latest bridesmaid dress I was told I would be needing a very, very special bra...one nothing less than what can be purchased at The Perfect Fit in Tustin, California.

We went to the shop and the saleswoman was one of these folks who LOVES what she sells. I was so blown away by her passion for undergarments that I didn't even catch her name. For now we'll call her the "Bra enthusiast (BE)." BE took me into the antique decorated fitting room. There was one of those old school, fabric stools, which was used to hold my current (and apparently ghetto) bra and a thick velvet curtain used to hide my shirtlessness. BE was very intense. Her bra-related verbiage was spoken with precision and seriousness. This was a no-nonsense matter. She started by measuring me. I asked if she needed me to take off the bra I was wearing, wanting an accurate measure obvi. No one wants to spend almost a hundo on a bra that doesn't fit. She told me she wasn't going to "expose me." I was okay with being exposed, BE seemed nice enough...probably not the best rule of thumb in the game of taking bras off!

She continued to sensitively inform me that I was wrong about my cup size and am in fact a "good F" with a lot of "wealth on top."  This is why my calling in life is definitely not being a bra saleswoman. Back to the F-word...first of all, those fancy-pants (or fancy underpants in this case) stores always tell customers what they think they want to hear. If you're a size 10, at Neiman Marcus you're considered a 6. If you're a double-D, apparently you're now an F...a completely hypothetical example of course. BE scolded me for wearing bras that "smash the girls" and told me to enjoy the wealth God gave me. If you say so BE. She fitted me into a beautiful strapless bra with a bodess and made me bend over to "fluff the girls." There is a very specific way to fluff. Using the opposite hand of the "girl" you're fluffing, use the palm to push from outside the girl around to underneath the girl, leaving the wire right underneath, so that the girl is supported. I started to wonder if there was in fact a third person that somehow entered the conversation without my attention. What girl? I thought we were talking about my...? Oooooooooooooooooh....that girl. I felt a bit uncomfortable since the newly fitted bra allowed for so much, as BE would say, wealth. My cup had runnith over! Apparently this is how this works, and once the gown is on the girls will be in proper position. Before I put back on my smasher, BE made me practice putting the fancy ditty on (hook and eye, things like that) and quizzed me, "Now, which girl are you gonna fluff?"

Uh...the right girl.


Cuz the right girl is smaller than the left girl.

That's right.

Now give me what's left on your credit card.

Monday, April 13, 2009


It's a Monday night bar tending...Since I know Mondays are limited to just a few patrons, I always bring some form of entertainment for myself. I don't do well without stimulation for long periods of time and am forbidden to turn the big screen to anything other than sports and news. I often make lists of "To-do's", life goals, things like that. Although I have quite a few things on both lists, it still only occupies about 30 minutes of my 4 hour shift. Tonight I brought a book, tempted to throw a bottle of nail polish in my purse, I refrained. That's gotta be some sort of health code violation.

I'm the ultimate extrovert and at times can 't even stand it! I get energy (and much joy) from people. Most of the time not even a compelling book can compare to interaction with a real human. So, inevitably the book lost my attention when a deep convo with Roberto the cook appeared as an option. Not only is Roberto a precious, precious man (necessary to say it twice, he's that precious), but on a more practical note, he functions as great Spanish practice for Sarita!

I told Roberto about the previous shift's conversation I had with Edgar and Pepe. The convo was sparked by the quarter sized hickey on Edgar's neck. The two mexicanos began educating me on "hombres en general." No need to go into detail but put it this way- I went home feeling like a child who just found out Santa isn't REAL! (If that was a Spoiler Alert for any of you, lo ciento, you should know this vital information by now) The conversation with Roberto was el opuesto! He inspired me with his talk of how hermoso a marriage and family is when it is based on love and other things that only sound romantic in Spanish. All in all, inspiring.

"Roberto, estoy de acuerdo!" Translation: I SO agree. Gotta love inspiracion.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

1 hour, 28 minutes and 17 seconds

Getting my computer onto the Internet only took one hour, twenty-eight minutes, and seventeen seconds. Gotta love Jackie at Linksys. Lucky her, getting the graveyard shift at the 24 hour tech support desk, especially when I call! She was so helpful. I'm thinking the questions and way in which I asked them had the potential to get a bit annoying.
"So can I take the thing outta the thing now?"

"Do you want me to click OKAY after I do that?" (YES. Click OKAY every time Sara)
Linksys Jackie told me to delete all other wireless networks from my roommate's laptop (just the word network sounds like I have a faint idea what I'm talking about. I don't) There were like 20 of them. I whispered to the roomie, "You're a wireless whore!" Luckily she gets me. 
Since we rearranged our living room 2 months ago, I had yet to get my ancient beast of a desktop back on the world wide web. Let's hope that all the posts in that time weren't seen by kids at work...especially the ones including baseball analogies and rashes. Now at least I can write in the comfort of my own home...on my wooden fold out chair in the corner, perfect distance from the TV ;) Not to mention I can do important things like upload pictures onto Facebook (preferably ones that are flattering and make my life appear full of fun events and fabulous friends).

Purchasing the necessary parts for this project was fun too, like the adapter that for $39 can go sorta fast or for $59 can go REALLY fast! I started sweating at the overwhelming sight of electronics. (Again, I just can't help but feel like my IQ went up 10 points saying another techie word like adapter). Anyway, after swiping my Visa for almost $50, I threw out a friendly "Well I guess rearranging my living room cost me more than a sore back."  Radio Shack guy not amused in the slightest. Apparently computer people just don't get me.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Spring Break '09-Teacher gone wild!

This Spring Break has been quite eventful thus far. It started out last Friday with a Bachelorette Party...not mine, trust me that much could not possibly have progressed in my love life since the last post! It was for the big sis who will be tying the knot in less than 6 weeks! 11 gals set out to Palm Desert to find the following truth: When this many females enter a public place and one of them is wearing a veil, many drinks and even a dinner bill will be picked up by males in close proximity...all weekend.

In addition to this fun and practically free weekend of shenanigans, spring break continued with a Sunday night of long island iced teas and Long Boards reggae (won't mention the next morning, which is proof I'm not as tolerant as I used to be!), a day at the beach, a little bit of bartending, hostessing the besties with a warm-weather apprope dinner, spring cleaning and finally a hair appointment. Note: This blonde is au naturale, but uses some highlight help from time to time, like any good San Diegan

This morning turned into a cleaning sesh with Tivo on in the background, a distraction second to the standard blasting ipod. I made an appointment at my downtown salon for 4:00. Before I knew it, it was quarter 'til and my cleaning attire which included cut-off sweats, a braless status and sweaty Padres hat were without a doubt insufficient. I changed then hurried down side streets to get downtown in the allotted 15 minutes. My general plan of attack for hair appointment parking is as follows: 1) find closest meter to Starbucks 2) After ordering tall, non-fat, decaf, mocha in a venti cup with extra ice, nicely ask the coffee expert for change, quarters specifically. 3) Get delicious beverage 4) Put quarters in meter 4) Walk 3 blocks to salon.
Today, this attack was a no-go. That statistic about 1.5 Starbucks popping up every day is crap! What is 1/2 a Starbucks anyway...maybe the booths that are outside churches and conferences? Anyway, the Starbucks I usually get my imperative quarters from is no longer there! Maybe Obama can make a stimulus plan to help the poor Starbucks company, that's clearly struggling in this economic crisis! I anxiously speed walked (on my bum foot due to a hip hop injury) to the next Starbucks 4 blocks up, past the salon, in fear that in those 10 minutes it took to walk there, order, and return with the quarters, a meter maid would have left me a love note! I gave my 30-second order, hustled back to the meter, then back again to retrieve my mocha, and eventually to the salon. What a day. First I find out the tragic information that my main man (David the colourist) moved to LA and a new gal would be touching up my 'do, then this madness. Samantha ended up doing a fine job, now you can sleep tonight confident that my highlights are still in tact! I left downtown and headed to pick up a much needed paycheck. Good times running into P4. An awkward convo later (which mostly meant him talking about himself) I was back home getting ready for a wild night of left-overs and paying bills online...and let's not forget my beloved LOST is on!

Happy Spring Break to me!!!

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Lo Ciento Dante!

In a rush to work this morning I almost ran over our janitor. Excuse me, our "Facilities worker," much more appropriate title. The school I work at is very PC. In fact, we're so PC, that yesterday we (and when I say we, I mean not me) allowed a 7th grade student to come out of the closet, through poem. The poem was very interesting and rhymed. He announced that he said he's "gay" because he couldn't find words that would rhyme with bisexual. Wow.

Anyway, I saw that a black trash can was coming out into the street and had to swerve to avoid hitting it..and the man pushing it, Dante. I got out of the car and yelled "Lo Ciento Dante!" I didn't mean to almost kill him on such a nice Wednesday morning.