En España

My dear readers (all 3 or 4 of you), another miracle has occurred and I survived the night train from Paris to Barcelona. It's not so much that it was dangerous to me as I was to it and myself. Let me provide you with a few words of wisdom: if you ever have two options of traveling on the same train, one costing more than the other, but not sounding that much better, go for the more expensive one. Trust me. I won't get into details, but I opted for saving 20 euros and got a reclining chair in a train cart instead of a bed in a small train room of 6 beds. Again, sparing you the gory details, it was a HUGE mistake. Also, if you have a child under the age of 4 or 5, or whatever age you can tell your child to shut up and they actually do, and you actually think about traveling with them overnight, in a train, when you clearly have other options that cost about the same, let me make this an easy decision for you: DON'T!

So as you can see, and with very few details, I am surprised I didn't hurt myself or someone else on the train ride. Needless to say, I think that was quite possibly the last time I will choose to travel on the night train.

But, I made it to Barcelona, and then took a train to Valencia, where I am staying with a friend. He's been very generous in letting me stay with him and showing me a good time. I, of course, appreciate that he is being a great host and letting me crash with him while here, but what I appreciate even more is that he told me to come in the middle of this past week instead of the beginning. You see, there was a festival going on in Valencia this past week, falles, and things get, oh just a little crazy, and it's a nonstop party all over the city with fireworks and firecrackers, which I discovered are also nonstop. So he advised that I come in the middle of the week to catch the last two days of the festival then enjoy Valencia in its normal state. I cannot tell you how happy I am that I listened to him. The first two days here were a lot of fun, and I met a lot of lovely people, but the noise, the firecrackers going off everywhere, unexpectedly, and the possible hearing loss I have suffered, are just a few reasons I am looking forward to a normal Valencia. But I am very glad I was also able to catch some of the festival and the burning of the monuments or falles. And maybe some day in the future I will come back for the whole week of partying and noise. But I am not sure what the would have done to my system had I done it the first time around.

But if I somehow forget to get back to Paris and to Chicago, and somehow unexpectedly get stuck here and never leave, don't be surprised. The Spanish are people after my own heart, and after all, I do need to work on Spanish, because I did not know how bad my Spanish (and how good my French is) until I came to Spain. I can't imagine that this will be my last time in Spain, so I might as well start working on the language.

Love at first wine

The first time I came to Paris, it was love at first sight. But after a few times of coming here, the sight becomes ordinary, and it's just love. Then there was wine. For some reason, the other times I came, the wine didn't feel extraordinary. I didn't drink as much, and it was just a glass here and a glass there. For whatever reason, this time, wine has become the object of my affection. It is quite possible that my wine palette has become more sophisticated since the last time I was in France, because I have started drinking more wine. Either way, I am loving that I drink wine everywhere and with everything.

Of course, I am trying to not do the vacation diet (or lack thereof), where I'd eat and drink more than usual and double my needed caloric intake. So drinking more wine has meant eating less. This was great the first 4 days. Today, it finally caught up with me, and my diet of cheese and wine since I've set foot in Paris has finally decided to give me a warning. So, I ended up feeling really crappy after lunch today, and had to throw up to feel better. It's not that I am drinking so much wine, I am getting drunk, it's just that there is more wine going into my system than usual, which is once or twice a week. When we were at dinner and my uncle said "wine?" I decided that maybe I will take a little break from wine for a day or so. After all, in three days I am heading to Spain, and there's a festival going on, where a lot of drinking takes place. I need to be ready for that, so I will take it easy with the wine until then. But don't fret, I am not giving up the wine yet. It is too good here to do that.

Other than the wine issues, this has been a great stay. I have met up with an old friend whom I haven't seen in 16 years, and through her I met new people. Everyone so far has decided that I need to move here. So I am letting them work on finding me a European man. I prefer France, Spain, or Italy, but I can be open to others too. Though, they'd have to convince me a little harder. Of course with enough wine, I can be much more easily persuaded!

In Paris

I made it to Paris in one piece. It's amazing considering how strong some of the turbulence we encountered was. Though there were only a few patches along the way. The flight was on time and ready to go, and then the vehicle that pushes the plane away from the gate wasn't functioning because it had a flat tire, so they had to go get another one. So they got one that was working, but the gate that is attached to the plane door was not working and they couldn't retract it off the plane. It was the most ridiculous chain of events. But eventually, a little over an hour later, we were able to pull away. And in true senseless fashion, people clapped. I do not clap for things that should've worked right to begin with. Sorry!

Another miracle is the fact that I managed to get all the packing done, even though less than 24 hours before my flight time I had still yet to start washing clothes that I wanted to pack, and didn't start packing till around midnight. But, I got everything taken care of, and I got to the airport on time. There were plenty of open seats on my flight, so I thought I'd upgrade. Yet again, I was unsuccessful in trying to upgrade my seat, even though at least half of the first class section was empty. I have yet to figure out the magic involved in upgrading. I don't get the thinking behind making it so hard, no matter what kind of ticket I have, if I'm offering you money to fill a seat that's empty anyway. What kind of business minds run the airline industry? No wonder they're all bankrupting. It's really easy math, and regardless of how much alcohol or food you give me if I sit in first class, I'm pretty sure that even charging me as little as $100 would put you ahead. Oh well, their loss.

The flight was empty enough that many people had their own 2 or 3 seats. People were able to sleep their entire length in the mid section of the seats. But per my usual traveling self, I couldn't sleep. It would've been perfect, as I was supposed to get to Paris at 7:30 am, so I would've slept through the night. But no, I couldn't, so now I'm tired, but I have to fight the urge to sleep so I can be completely refreshed tomorrow and ready to go do my thing. Probably just wander the streets of Paris, as I have already seen most of the things that need to be seen here. But there's always room for more, and I can always do what I love doing most in this city: people-watch!

Somehow, I forgot to grab my little French dictionary and my little Paris booklet. Granted, I know my way around, but I like to see what things out there I haven't tapped yet. I guess I'll just have to buy a new one, and a new pocket dictionary. Not cool!

Anyway, I made it in one piece, and that's just fantastic for now. The weather today is nice and sunny, and I hope it stays this way for at least the next week that I'm here before I take off for Spain. I wish I could promise that I will update the blog often while I'm here, but I'm afraid of making promises I cannot keep, so let's play it by ear, shall we?

An explanation of sorts

I guess I owe everyone here an explanation for my last post. First and foremost, I have not committed suicide over the crap that has happened to me. Here's a little summary: in two days, it will be 2 months since I had a job. That's right my lovelies, I have lost my job, and this economy can totally kiss my ass. Though trust me, I have handled this the best anyone can handle becoming unemployed. I have been catching up on sleep, catching up with friends, and doing a lot of traveling.

Of course, in between I have been looking for a job, just enough to be constantly reminded that no one thinks I am good enough to hire for anything. Looking for a job in this economy makes the day go by really fast, and it totally sucks. I have not gotten too bored though, because I have mastered the art of passing time by running errands and visiting friends.

I have also been traveling a lot more, and trying to visit friends whom I haven't seen in a long time, and even driving instead of flying to save money. Luckily gas is cheap these days, so it works out really well. Next week, I leave for Europe, and will be there for a month. It's my way of giving the economy the finger. I will of course continue to look for a job while there to make sure that I never forget the fact that I am unemployed and so I do not fool myself into thinking that I am actually on a relaxing trip.

Also, here's a shout out to everyone who said to me: "is this really a good time to be traveling?" You're just jealous, and you should keep your unsolicited advice to yourself! I am sick of people trying to bring me down. I am feeling as good as one can in this unfortunate unexpected unemployment time, so try not to rain on my already tired parade.

Life is good. I am not wasting too much time watching daytime television, and I am channeling my anger really positively. Most people now love me more, as I am making more time for them, and I actually have time to be a good friend. So here's a shoutout to my previous employer: thanks for giving me my freedom, and opening my eyes to that fact that there's a lot more to life than working in the office till midnight!

Only way from here is up

I hope everyone's new year is off to a good start. Mine wasn't. I am not ready yet to share with all of you, but after enjoying a great holiday season, the first week of the new year brought me some bad things. But having realized a lot of things about how I want to lead my life at the end of last year, I took these bad things and completely turned them around into something positive. I am now looking forward to the rest of the year, and feel a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I am not really big into New Year's Resolutions, and instead of setting myself up for disappointment, this year I decided it is better to just start doing what I want to do. I have been trying to eat better, sleep better, and work out on regular basis. It is hard to see results after just a short period of time, so the tough part is keeping up what I'm doing and waiting for results to start showing up. But if I had to put what I'm doing into words, I'd say that I am trying to set my priorities straight for a change. I'm trying to keep on reminding myself that my health and well-being are the most important things, without which no other part of my life will be healthy. Having wasted so many days staying late at work, it is not too late to spin that around and start doing things right. My new approach is to practice what I believe, and that is: "work to live, not live to work."

I really hope all of you out there keep on reminding yourselves that everyday. Remind yourself not to become a slave to the money and your jobs. Take pride in your work, but don't over do it, because when you work late day in and day out, you are missing a lot of your life. I have seen people who have missed their children growing up, thinking that they're providing for their families a comfortable happy life, but is it really happy with one parent constantly absent? Just keep that in mind. I don't have a family yet, but my well-being is my "child" that I will not ignore.

Happy New Year!

Happy (almost) New Year!

Sometimes I stop and think to myself: "how is it already almost 2009?" Do you remember back in the 80s and even the 90s when you thought that you'd never get to the 2000s? And now? Almost an entire decade of the 2000s has passed. I still remember the day I left my red bicycle, which naturally was a hand me down from my brother, down beneath the building that was raised on pillars. I ran upstairs, to the first floor (a European, not US, first floor) where we lived, bolted into the condo to grab a drink and ran back downstairs to continue playing. The game consisted of riding around, under the building, between the pillars, trying to fool the others as to where I would next appear. I stopped, froze, I could not believe it. It had only been 5 minutes, at most. No red bicycle. It was gone. Someone came and took my red bicycle. I was so shocked that I didn't even cry. Now what?

Here we are, over 20 years later, and it's almost 2009. Things have come and gone, and a few memories faded, but somehow, the red bicycle memory has not. I also remember thinking that the year 2000 was so far away, and how old I will be by the time it came around. I would be turning 22 later that year. I was sure that by 2000 I'd be done with college, I'd probably be getting ready to get married, and by 25, I would have all the children I wanted to have. In a way, that was comical, but in a way, here I am, 8 years later, and all I have done is finish my schooling, as far as I know. Though with me, like my parents say, you never really know whether I'm really done. In a sick masochistic way, I love being a student. No marriage and no kids, and none of that really bothers me. But for some reason, 2009 is making me think of all these things.

I was at a dinner with friends not too long ago, and one of my friends said "my God, I am almost 29, and I have accomplished nothing!" I asked her what it is that one should accomplish by the time they turn 29 or even 30. People often say that, but what do they mean? She shrugged and said "make a lot of money?" Which begs the question: is the amount of money you possess a good measure of accomplishment? I happen to think not. I happen to think that a better measure is HOW you're making the money you make. I drifted in my own thoughts: am I happy in the way I am making my living? What is my contribution to humanity? I am 30, and I have left no distinct mark in this world. I am not even on my way to contribute anything of value. Thomas Edison was 32 when he successfully manufactured a light bulb that lasted over 13 hours.

I have never just stopped and thought how the years have passed by, and I cannot decide why is it that I am thinking about it this year. It's possible that the looming end of the first decade of the 21st century has something to do with that. And it seems like nothing special has marked the first decade of the 2000s. We all know the 80s and the strange fashion statements made then, then the 90s and Generation X, but what exactly are the 2000s? Besides the ugly war, what have we to show for the 2000s? Maybe it's not a problem from which I alone suffer, but it's just that humanity as a whole has come to a sudden stop, hit a wall, and just stopped moving. How do we restart the engines and begin moving again? I see too many people occupied by insignificant things. Too many people without any passion. Way too many people who are not bothered by living a routine that revolves about doing the bare minimum to go through life unnoticed. People intentionally trying to lead a very inconspicuous existence. I do not want to be any of these people. These aren't the people who become celebrated historical figures or who leave a mark on many lives.

Though after Wednesday, it'll just be 2009, and we will go on with our ordinary lives, and another year will commence, and before we know it, I'll be back here trying to figure out the meaning of life, and talking complete and utter nonsense.

They ate the carrot cake!

So Thanksgiving came and went, and I never had a chance to tell everyone what I'm thankful for this year. Not that I have done it any other years, but this year I am especially more cognizant of the fact that had the Pilgrims not massacred the Native Americans, we probably would not be here celebrating such events with overwhelming amounts of food that could feed an entire town in a 3rd world country. It wouldn't feed an entire town in the US, because we're all a bunch of whiny picky eaters. Do you think anyone in Africa ever says "oh no, ew, I don't like turkey breast, it's too dry for me!"? Or "don't make apple and pumpkin pies, we prefer carrot cake, and if the one you make from scratch isn't perfect, make sure you leave it at home and buy one at the store." You know, because celebrating massacres is very particular!

Don't get me wrong, I love Thanksgiving. It's a time for family to get together. In our case though it's family and friends. We have a couple of friends who are from other countries, and far away from their families, so we have them over. In the end, the whole thing becomes an international affair. That evening, at my parents' house, at least 5 countries were represented, not including the US. The food reflected it too. We had a great mix of traditional Thanksgiving food in addition to other internationally-inspired selections.

We also had 6 kids there, ranging in age from 3 months to 11 years. The 3 month old was an angel and pretty much slept the whole time. The 11 year old was way too cool to be associated with those younger than her. And the rest of them, the other four, were like wound up toys that someone had just let go in the living room, running around, screaming, stealing each other's toys - mind you, these toys being my mother's coasters - and all in all giving me many reasons to not only hope that I am sterile, but to actually want to reach into my body and rip out my uterus and ovaries to make sure that I would never carry in my body something that could end up one day like them. Some of you may say that children are cute, and yes, I agree, they are cute, WHEN THEY'RE SLEEPING!

A piece of history

At one point or another, I'm sure we have all thought of a historic event, and thought to ourselves "what did it feel like to have been there?" Most of you who know me, know my obsession about history. Often, when I'm exceptionally touched by the retelling of an event in history, I put the book down, and think about what it would have been like to be around when such a historical moment struck.

Well, I'm sure that we now all know what it feels like to live a significant moment in history. Good history that is. As I am sure, we all consider September 11, 2001 a significant event in history. In fact, I still remember specifically when and where I was when I found out, and how I stood these watching the television when the cameras captured the second plane hit the second tower, and when the the towers collapsed, and New York City's skyline was forever altered. But like many other Americans, and others all over the world, I not so much got over that, but I have moved on and accepted that this is the way the world is, it's full of hate and bigotry. While I try very hard to not let those two be part of my life, at least not from my side, I have accepted that the good in people is not always enough.

Then, there was November 4, 2008. I was at a friend's house watching the results of the election. I had planned on going down to Grant Park where the rally was taking place. I wanted to be there with the rest of the Obama supporters when he made what was going to be surely his acceptance speech. But alas, I was sick, and couldn't make, so instead I went to my friend's "election night party." I was worried that like last time, there would be too many close races and we would go to sleep not knowing who our president will be, only to wake up to disappointing news (for 50% of us anyway). But this time, around 10 pm or so, it was pretty clear that Obama was going to be our next president. I thought at the time, "how anti-climactic. Now what?" So I left my friend's house, and I was driving back home when the official announcement was made that Barack Hussein Obama II is going to be our president. Suddenly, when it became official, it hit me: I am living history. I got choked up, and I nearly cried. I don't know why, but it really touched me that the majority of the voters in our country, not only were sick enough of Bush and refused to have someone who will carry on his regimes, but that they were capable of accepting, wanting, and embracing an African-American as their president. This is a new level of good that I didn't think our nation was capable of achieving.

I truly think Obama is very capable of being everything we want him to be, and that those of us who went out there and helped in his quest believe him to be. At the same time, I realize that there will be many things that he does that I will oppose and greatly disagree with. Mr. Obama has a long tough road ahead of him, as the Bush administration is leaving him a great mess to clean up. Even tougher, he will have those who opposed him who will be waiting for him to make any mistake so they can say "we told you so!" To that I say "it's OUR time! You took away from us 8 years, not it's our turn."

When it comes down to it, a lot of policies won't drastically change, but there will be change. There will be proof that decency and acceptance have prevailed. All you have to do is look at the speeches of the two candidates after the results came out. While I greatly respect Senator McCain, and I thought his speech was extraordinarily well-delivered and well-mannered, I saw that most of the faces that looked up at him while he was speaking were white faces, that showed no signs of hardship. A couple of thousand miles away, Mr. Obama delivered his speech to a rather diverse group of supporters, all races and age groups we represented, people with all educational and economical backgrounds. No offense Mr. McCain, but THIS group represents the Real America.

In the end, I am just really happy to see that we can finally stand up with our heads high with the rest of the world and say: "look, we're Americans, and we're not all hateful!"

Now I know how it feels to witness history. Where were you when what we hope is going to be a bright part of our country's history took place?

Getting Political

Well, since everyone else is doing it, I think it's time that this blog endorses a candidate. After all, are newspapers more important than this abandoned corner of the Internet space? Hell no!

This blog endorses Barack Obama.

I took advantage of early voting, and went and voted for Obama two weeks ago.

I have been very passionate about this election, more so than usual. I am relatively liberal. OK, I am REALLY liberal, but trust me, that does not ensure that my vote will always go to the Democratic nominee. I like to consider myself open-minded and well-informed, and therefore will consider all nominees.

For example, in 2000, I voted for Nader. I really liked Al Gore, but I hated Lieberman, and let's all admit it, he did turn out to be a snake. Had McCain been the Republican nominee in 2000, I would've voted for him. Had McCain chosen a different running mate this year, I would've not been quite as passionate about this election this year, and I might've not been so sure about who I wanted to vote for. Had he chosen someone brilliant as his running mate, like Colin Powell, I would've possibly voted for that instead of Obama/Biden, because I know they're not radical Republicans and they have a lot of experience, especially Colin Powell. But choosing Palin as his running mate is not only shocking and ridiculous, but it's insulting to the American people, except those idiots who really believe that she is a good choice. She has no political experience, and if (GOD FORBID) they are elected, she is going to do so much more damage to the US reputation in the World and cause much more corruption in 1 year than George W Bush and his administration did in 8 years. If McCain were to die a day after being sworn in, which is possible, it is very scary to think that Palin would take over.

Therefore, I am passionately against that ticket, and would like to do anything to ensure that doesn't happen. Well, all I can do is vote for Obama and help the Obama campaign.

Let's hope for the best of our country and ensure that someone like Palin is not at the helm!

Happy travels

I did some math not too long ago, and I figured that from December 1, 2007 through December 1, 2008 I will have spent around $2,500 on air fare, including one heavily discounted trip, and a cheap air fare on Southwest. That is a lot of traveling. No wonder the ongoing joke these days is "so, how do you make time for work in between trips?" Or "professional traveler." You see, until 2 years ago I was known as the "professional student." But that's what it's all about, I was a student for a long time, and now, it's time to make it up! So what's the opposite of student? A TRAVELER!

The last couple of trips though, my patience with airlines, airports, and air travelers was seriously tested. The first of the trips was a short one, just a little short hop to another city in the Midwest. Not too bad, no delays, no annoying seat neighbors, and a flight that is less than an hour long. PERFECT. On the way back, a free Bloody Mary made everything just fine and dandy. My friend and I were flirting with this very cute guy next to us. We thought it was too good to be true, and then when he commented about how cute one of Hillary's suits was, I took a big gulp of my Bloody Mary and mouthed "GAY" to my friend.

Next came a trip two weeks later, and luckily, a storm was looming around the city that I was flying into. What that really meant was a delay that is longer than the flight itself, then boarding the plane and sitting on the runway for another hour with no air circulation. That's right around when I start cursing at no one in particular and scaring the people around me. We finally take off, and I could not wait for the flight attendant to come around with the drinks, so I can get my Bloody Mary, except I drank the mix, then chased it with the vodka. Just when I thought we were arriving, the captain gets on the PA system and says the weather is so bad, we have to hold in a circling pattern and circle about 3 or 4 times. So I started counting the number of time we circled and when we got to 6 I started to physically shake, but I had to contain myself, because no one wants to see a Middle Eastern go ape shit in a plane. Instead, I started watching the lightening that was originating from a cloud not too far away from the plane, or as us scientist call it the LARGE METAL object near a large amount of highly charged particles. This is how I was going to die.

But I made it, just long enough to make it to the next trip. I was supposed to be on a direct flight to the West Coast, and the weather was perfect, but as we all know by now, it is just too good to be true. Apparently, the flight was overbooked and I got placed on a flight to a different city, and then a small connecting flight to my destination. I was about to rip the airline representative another one, when she offered me a $300 voucher, so I snagged it and walked away. On my first flight, I sat next to a 13 year old and an old man. The 13 year old thought we should become friends and she should tell me about her life. I just knew it right then and there that there is indeed a God and he hates me. This was my punishment for never going to church or praying. So I decided to make things better and I asked the flight attendant politely if she had tonic water. When she said "yes" I asked her for one and TWO vodkas. Fuck it, time to drink up bitches. The 13 year old was horrified and the old man totally judged me, and I could not care less. I downed those bitches like they were my last meal. I had a good buzz going, but the chatter box next to me completely killed my buzz with her non stop talk about things that are only interesting to 13 year olds. God was really hating me.

That flight landed safely, and we boarded the smaller connecting flight, which was the smallest plane I have ever been on. It was one of those 3 seats per row planes, more like the short bus of planes. As soon as it took of, I knew that this was how I was going to die. A bird was going to fly by and sneeze on it sending it down. All the fat people on board were only going to make that end come sooner. All the fat ass food chompers were going to be the end of me. But somehow, by some magical intervention, I made it, in one piece. As soon as I landed I just knew that once I got back home, it would be a while before I travel again. That is not for another month!

Witty friends

Most days I do OK in the wit department, other days, I am just wit-less. Today is one of those days, so instead, I'm going to depend on others' wit to amuse my readers.

I received an invitation to a friend's 30th birthday party, and I love it so much that I'm going to share it with the rest of you. I might've been on the fence about going, but the wit of the invitation makes me want to go for sure. How can you say NO to this:

So my friend and I are turning 30 soon, and we got to thinking, the pressure is on...the 30's are really the "put up or shut up" decade. Shakespeare was in his thirties when he wrote Hamlet, Genghis Khan was unifying Mongolia, the guys from Google were making it easier to plagiarize term papers, and Napoleon crowned himself Emperor of France. If we were mortgages, standard 30-year fixed, we'd be paid off by now (or at least buried in a bad CDO or exotic derivative). But if our greatest accomplishment and life's culmination is hosting a party in the back of a bar, then so be it. Come celebrate our joint 30th-ganza at [name of bar withheld]--$20 costs you your dignity but buys you a festive wristband, drinks from 9 til midnight, and anecdotes to last until Monday. Please bring friends, as my friend and I are self-conscious about appearing unpopular in front of the bar manager. Hope to see you there!

A tid bit of politics

I tried to stay as long as I could away from politics, because if I were to say anything political at this point I would say that McCain and Palin is a great combo of stupid, ignorant, and foolish, and that I would comfortably opine that anyone who dares vote for them is an ignorant ass.

But I won't say that.

Instead, I'll just say that this blog is an Obama/Biden supporter. Not because they're so great, but they're a much better choice for our country than McCain and Palin. I do think though that they bring a lot more to the table and were they to win, our country would actually have a chance at redeeming itself, especially internationally. People may also start thinking that maybe we're not all idiots. That won't be the case if McCain and Palin win.

Like a broken record

It seems like I have fallen into the habit of posting, then disappearing. This time though, it's almost been two months. And holy crap, is that a long time or what?

A lot has happened since I last posted. Some stuff worth nothing, some not so much, and some just flat out is not something I'd care to share with the whole world.

Most notably, my friends "Spain and China" had their baby boy the day after Labor Day. We went to the hospital on Labor Day when mama was going through labor. We were there for 5 hours, but the baby had other plans. He was going to camp out for another day in mommy's belly. Wouldn't you? It was a fun 5 hours that ended in a dumb nurse yelling at us to leave. Really? What happened to being an angel? Not that nurse. So, I went back the next day and got to hang out with the baby. He's precious. I just want to hold him and run away, in a very non-kidnapping kind of way. I haven't seen him since the day he was born. That needs to change.

I had my last post-op appointment with my neurosurgeon. It was very uneventful in terms of what transpired during the actual appointment. He told me that I can now do anything I want to, except move heavy furniture. Well, DAMN, there goes my back up career plan. I guess I'll stick with my current job then. The fun part of the appointment was the waiting portion. Instead of getting there, getting in, and getting out, I got to sit around for TWO HOURS waiting for my appointment. That always makes me wonder WHY am I getting an appointment to begin with? I do have to say, it was almost worth being there for two hours to watch all the nut jobs who were in the waiting room. They were so crazy that I had to check a couple of times to make sure that I was not in the wrong wing of the hospital.

The runner up for crazy patient in the waiting room was an old man, who had the whole old man thing going on: the perfectly white hair, the wrinkles in all the right places on his face, the cane, and the slightly curved legs (probably from the adult diaper). But he was very together, and not at all frail. He was on the phone talking probably to his baby-mama, and sounded very VERY together. That's really nice to see, a strong older man, who's not falling apart. Then the most magical thing happened, he got up to ask the receptionist about his appointment, which I am sure, like the rest of us was delayed by more than a few minutes. As soon as he got up to go talk to her, his legs curved a little more, his back arched a little bit more, his arms started shaking, and the cherry on top of the "I am suddenly a frail old man" cake was his voice. He transformed his voice to this quivery old man voice who is in so much pain, and told the girl how he could not stand it anymore and needed to see the doctor. I was watching in amazement, and he noticed that I noticed his little performance. The receptionist went in, and a nurse came out to take grandpa in before he died. Then, get this, as he is walking away with the nurse, he glances over, smiles like the deceitful cripple he is, and winks at me. Oh, HELL NO! I wanted to get up and tackle him, but figured that I would have lost that battle.

That however wasn't the winner of the craziest thing in that waiting room. On the other side, there was this teenage girl. Sitting between two people that I assume are her parents, or maybe pimps. She had her legs crossed under her on the chair, her arms crossed, and she was rocking back and forth, like a mental patient. Her "dad" said something to her, and she started yelling at him about how the dose is totally wrong, and how she's going to die if he makes her take that dose, and how she's going to have a hard time cutting her wrists to get attention... OK, maybe not that last part. But she was showing them the insides of her forearms, so I assume she was showing them the scars from the last few times she cut herself. Her "parents" were trying to calm her down, but the emo teen wasn't having any of it. She started shouting about how her life sucks and how they don't understand. Right, we've all been there, you know, that stage where you are so deep and have this vision of what life is all about, but FUCK, the rest of the world just does not understand, and the having to follow rules is worse than being in prison. And PARENTS JUST SUCK! I just wanted to slap her. I went through that phase, but NOT IN PUBLIC! I wanted to get up and drag the bitch by her hair and slap her a few times around. Just watching that made me want to take out my car key and give myself a hysterectomy right then and there to make sure I never have kids who may some day behave in public like that. I could not believe how calm the parents stayed, which is exactly why I thought they were her pimps. If I would've pulled anything half as bad as that with my parents, I would not be here right now to write all of this.

Otherwise, life is good, and summer is coming to an end, which means I will soon curl into the fetal position and start crying about the beautiful summer days that have come and gone all too fast.

Turning 30 means nothing

I bet you know a lot of people who are scared of their birthdays and who are especially scared of "milestone" birthdays, like 30. A few days ago I myself turned 30. Oooh, aaah. But if you really know me, you know that I am more like 13 than 30. Age is a number, albeit a BIG one at this point. I was the one who told everyone how old I am, followed by how little I have accomplished so far in life. But hey, I've managed to stay alive, which is just so fantastic at this point. Being the clumsy person I am, and having been so close to death or really bad bodily injury due to said clumsiness, I am SHOCKED that I have made it this far with little to no serious ailments. **KNOCK ON WOOD** In fact, it is more appropriate for people to say to me CONGRATULATIONS ON MAKING IT TO 30, than to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

My brother, who is (chronologically) 4 years older than me, only remembered one thing about my birth: going to a petting zoo on the day I was born. It was obviously a monumental occasion in his life. He possibly felt that my birth interrupted his plans of being the spoiled only child that he was, so he managed to make my life a living hell until I was 15, then spent the next 15 years convincing himself and others that he was a great older brother. This is the same guy who used to tell kids in the neighborhood that he'll beat them up if they as much as touch me, because ... wait for it, wait for it... he was the only one allowed to beat me up! But then again, I'd want to spend my younger years beating up a younger sibling if all I got on the day of their birth was a short visit to the petting zoo.

Regardless, I had a great time celebrating the big 3-0. It was all fine and dandy, until a friend said to me: Happy Birthday, welcome to the fourth decade of your life. What a shitty way to say something nice. It's hard enough accepting the fact that I am 30, now why don't you go put it in terms that make it sound even older. Fourth decade, that's like 40. I am quite the math genius, yet I had to do the math a couple of times to comprehend that one. DAMN, I am starting my 4th decade. Now I felt old.

But hey, at least I have people who love me, right? Well, sure, we'll go with that. Or at least people who like free alcohol so much that they would put up with me and tolerate me to show up to my birthday party. Yes, I pay my friends. In all seriousness though, it was a good time, until the skies opened and a monsoon hit the city, and I was practically kicked out of the bar into the pouring rain. That's when I realized that "my friends" just took off and left. No one cared that the birthday girl was practically drenched. Having no one to lean my drunken head on, I took off my shoes and started running barefoot in the streets, and ended up sharing a cab with a complete stranger. He was nice, he thought I was 22. But damn, it's not a party till you're running through downtown Chicago barefoot and finding someone drunk enough to estimate you to be 8 years younger.

Although, I am pretty sure the highlight of the night was when one of my friends was talking to a guy earlier in the evening and telling him how she knows and that I am very nice and friendly. But as soon as those words came out of her mouth, I said to one of my friends in an almost screaming voice: "next time I see that bitch I'm going to kick her bitchy ass!" The guy turned to my friend and asked: "are you sure you're talking about the right person?"

Ah, to be young and foolish again.

Mean mean me

I know this will come as a shock to many of you, especially those who know me personally, but I have a constant feeling of guilt. People may not know it, but sometimes they say something that may not invoke a reaction right away, but deep inside they plant a seed of guilt that will grow into a little flesh eating organism that will eat me from the inside out, until I somehow find a way to get over it. In an attempt to not deal with such guilt-like feeling, I usually let things slip and go. But it's funny how when you do that so many times, it actually goes unnoticed, and then when the roles are reversed, people make a big stink about things. No specific names mentioned, and not specific events will be discussed here, yet.

But I usually don't know how to deal with rude people in certain situations, and I awkwardly succumb to whatever they're doing, and just get upset about it later on my own. Maybe the kitten gets drop-kicked when I get home to relief some of the anger. OK, OK, the kitten does not get harmed. But as an example, let's say I'm waiting in line at the post office, and someone just walks up and cuts in front of me and goes to the clerk. I will get upset and huff and puff and grunt at the person to show them that I am not satisfied with what they just did. That person may or may not notice, but they're already giving their stupid mail to the clerk, so what do they care how fast and loud I can get air out of my nose and mouth? They don't care!

Well, earlier today I went in to see my doctor, and I was standing at the reception desk to talk to the receptionist to get me in for my appointment. Two other people were standing behind me waiting their turn as well. As I started talking, this old lady with a cane, and hair that has not been washed since 1985, and a typical attitude of entitlement to whatever service is being offered, walks right up to the reception desk and starts talking to the receptionist. I stop, turn to her and say "excuse me, I am speaking with the receptionist because it's my turn. There's a queue here, and I think everyone would appreciate it if you waited your turn." She looks at me and says: "but I have a medical problem." I say to her: "this is a doctor's office, no one is here to get a lollipop." She looks at me with her eyes about to pop out, and she walks to the back of the line. One of the two ladies behind me mouths to me "THANK YOU!"

You see, many times, I would've been guilted into letting the "old person" do whatever, but I have had enough. This attitude that some people have where they feel entitled to services ahead of others is so ridiculous and annoying. I figured if this lady was there for a check up, she can wait, and if she were in really bad pain, she'd go to the ER. My patience had run out, and I acted upon it. I don't care how old you are, or what color you are, or what religion you are, you stand in line wherever the line ends when you get to it. It's one of my pet peeves, cutting in line in front of people, and today, it happened to me and I was in the right mood to tell this lady off, and it was the right thing to do. Maybe some would call it mean, but you know, the two people standing behind me in line didn't think so, and if you were in line too, you would've not either!