Bleh.

All I wanted to do after a very stressful day today was sit in the hot tub. The hot tub to me is an experience like getting my hair cut or colored, getting a pedicure, or massage--it's a place I go to relax. I don't want you to talk to me. I don't want small talk. No thank you. I want to lay my head back, close my eyes, and sit there alone, in my thoughts--again, alone.

Tonight, after TS and I got to the hotel, I decided I would head down and take a dip. I was chatting on the phone with B until I got too sweaty to safely hold the phone over it's steamy death trap. About 3 minutes before she and I got off the phone, this guy came and got in the tub, too. Guy is probably my age--a year or two older maybe.

I hang up with B, lay my head back, close my eyes, and drift off into a nice relaxing.... "so, what are you doing in town?"

OH NO YOU DIDN'T! *Rolls her eyes while they're still closed.* I very obviously jerk my head off the towel to make sure guy knows I'm not into this. I answer politely, and lean my head back.

"Oh, that's cool. How long have you been in town?"

*thinks, 'are you KIDDING me?'* answers politely--with eyes still closed.

"Great, where are you from?"

*Answers politely.*

"Oh, NO way! Me too. I live there with my wife."

*Oh, Great--why don't you call her?*--I nod.

"What are you doing tonight?"

*catching up on work.

"Oh, I was thinking about going out--me and my buddies usually go drinkin' or hit up a strip bar."

*charming, dude. Charming.*

"You're a pretty good looking girl--do you have a boyfriend?"

*Bitchy look paired with a blunt NO.* Please please please quit talking, guy.

He doesn't stop. I say, "Well, I'm getting warm, I think I'm heading out."

He says, "Well, if you get bored later, you should stop by my room or give me a call--I'm in room xyz..."

*gasps* Guy happens to be 3 doors down meaning I have to sprint to my room, find TS, tell him what happened, deadbolt the door and stay there ALL night so he doesn't realize where I'm at.

Traveling alone can be creepy enough. When you run into Guy in the hot tub, it's even worse. The thing is--I'm not sure where married guy randomly staying in same hotel as me thinks he has the right to 1: tell me I'm good looking, and 2: invite me to hang out with him 3: bring up strip clubs in a conversation with a perfect stranger. Please, dude. Bleh. Creeped out.

It's a rocky start...

Well, Travel Season (now referred to as TS) and my relationship is off to a pretty rocky start. I mean, this morning, I was ready to go. I put my bag in the car, I filled it with gas, I was rockin' and ready. Then I got to work where I expected to spend a majority of the day before heading out--on a big date with TS.

Insert hours of rain and inches of snow and you'll find that I was heading right back home tonight. I mean, I don't get it. Yesterday it was 37 degrees and the guys who live downstairs put on their shorts and long sleeve tees, went outside and threw around the football--I kid you not. And today, fricken' snowstorm. Alas. No big date with TS. It was ruined. And, as I mentioned in my previous blog, I've done things that are more fun than rescheduling appointments. Bleh.

I mean, come on, TS. If you make a date, keep it. Don't give me this crap about too much snow and icy roads and stay safe--stay home! Whatever TS. When you get your head out of your arse, you call me. And to think, he slyly rescheduled for tomorrow. Pssh. We'll see if that works out.

So here I sit, watching Titanic, falling more and more in love with Leonardo DiCaprio, and building unbelievable expectations that TS will never exceed. I don't feel bad--it's his fault. I wouldn't be here watching this movie with my roomate if he'd've simply kept our date. That's right TS, that's right.

My one true thing...

Travel season starts again tomorrow. I am supposed to be driving about 2 and a half hours after work tomorrow night, but it looks like we are getting yet another nasty snow storm. Supposedly, we are to expect 3 to 6 inches, and the town I am supposed to end up in is forecasted to get 6-8. It could be interesting. And by interesting, what I really mean is that I'll be pissed if I have to cancel and reschedule these appointments--as if it wasn't enough of a pain to schedule them in the first place. Ef you snow, ef you.

That being said, I am actually sort of looking forward to travelling. Last fall I was quite apprehensive before I started travelling--I was the newbie (still am) but at that point I had no idea what town was what and where on earth I was headed. The second time around, now, I feel like a seasoned pro. Okay, not really. But I do enjoy the time away from the office. I work with some great friends, and enjoy spending time with them, but day after day after day in the office doing the same thing gets kindof old. Hopping in the car and heading out on the lonesome highway is a welcome vacation (you should, however, note the word lonesome).

Travel season, you see, is my relationship--my significant other, my partner. I do look forward to hopping into Eugene, my Malibu Maxx, and spending thousands of miles out and about in the vast Iowan countryside. I look forward to spending some quality time with my cd player, as well as that stack of novels I have yet to have a chance to read. I spend many a meal sitting at a table looking across it to see nothing other than dear travel season. In the evenings, in my hotel room or in the hot tub, again, travel season is my constant companion--my one true thing.

However, as with all relationships, I will likely get frustrated and pick a fight here and there. Which is where you, my dear friends, come in to play. I can assure you that at some point during this lovely season, you'll find me bored out of my mind--looking for any excuse to give you a call or start a texting conversation. I beg of you--respond! :)

P.S. to E and GB, I just want to let you know that there were no martinis drunk by this girl today! :)

I don't think...

I dont think:

*Paula Abdul should use the word "dope" nor should Kara use the word "hip." Ever. I'm just saying. :)

*people should underestimate the power of the full moon.

*winter should be as cold as it was today (wind chill of negative 28).

*it should be this confusing--because in our very small spot in the world, our problems seem trivial--why in our lives do they seem so large?

*it's easy to see how lucky we are!

*I would be the well adjusted (ha!), and halfway normal person that I am without my friends (you all rock!) and family (epecially my older sis).

*I'll ever get rid of my nomadic instincts.

*anyone should settle for anything less than butterflies...yes, I take some life advice from Carrie Bradshaw--who doesn't?

*I'll ever be content.

*I will ever turn down sweets.

*I'll ever get drunk without busting out a British accent.

*anything compares to weekends with friends! :)

*cheese tastes good. Ewe.

*I'll ever justify my thoughts in my writing. I wish I could.

*anyone will match the cuteness of my niece (and goddaughter) Emerson.

*I'll ever get over missing you.

*unsolicited advice should offend anyone--you should be pleased that people want to help.

*a soundtrack will ever beat RENT.

*anyone is ever good enough for my friends.

*anything beats a good bottle of red wine.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

It's Sunday morning--I woke up at 10 a.m. after a Tylenol pm induced haze feeling so much better after the 13 hours of sleep I gave myself. I was very tired after a long day at work on Saturday mixed with a few beers plus a full belly after going out for an enjoyable dinner :). It's snowing--it's always snowing in Iowa in February. I don't know about you, Diary, but I'm ready for it to go away. As I look outside I am reminded of the dearyness of snow--the cold, bitter reality that you might be stranded by some unbelievable force of nature. There are no snowplows yet--still snowy driveways and snowy sidewalks.

When I finally did roll out of bed, Danielle was also up and we ate breakfast and watched several hours of Sex and the City where we were whisked into cloudy dreams of designer shoes, friendly dinners, Dior bags, and the city of our dreams at our fingertips. We are smitten--we are smitten with NYC and the clan of glamorous gals that "live" there. It was still snowing and blowing at this point and very cold--I could barely see across the street to the little British pub that sits on the corner. I was feeling a little sullen at this point--I realized that as much as I might be Miranda, I'm not Miranda. And, on top of all this, I've been looking forward to buying new tennis shoes all week, and we both needed groceries and now we are stranded. We also decided after watching season four of the one show that makes our lives good, that martinis were in order.

We were out of vodka but had many mixers left from Martini Madness part one (aka Danielle's 23rd Birthday). If we are going to be stranded all day, we decided we might as well have some damn warm cheeks while we were at it. We decided that the situation was dire enough that we braved the weather and drove to the grocery store which is conveniently located by the shoe store and killed all our birds with one proverbial stone. The roads are still pretty atrocious and it's a slushy mess out there. But we made it.

Danielle asked, once we got home, "is it wrong for us to be drinking martinis at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon?" I replied, "no, Danielle, that's what Sundays were made for." Maybe I'm not so different from Miranda afterall--maybe all girls in their early 20s deserve an afternoon of vodka and fiction shows to soothe the soul of all the craziness that we often experience on a daily basis. Now, we sit here--me in my new python Asics, and drink our mango martinis as we watch The Way We Were (another SATC influenced choice--you know, the episode where Carrie runs into big and Natasha and the line, "Your girl's lovely Hubbell." D--pressing, substantially.) We're stuck at home--as much by choice as by circumstance...but isn't that how it is with life? We have just as much opportunity to strand ourselves as we do to drive out on the not so safe roads. Now, as the hours pass, I find myself wondering, when's the snow plow going to dig us out?

Until next time, Diary,

Jamie

What's on yours?!

I love John Mayer. I love his old stuff, I love his new stuff, and, especially, I like this stuff:



The song is called Say, and these are the lyrics:

Take out of your wasted honor

Every little past frustration

Take all of your so called problems

Better put them in quotations

Say what you need to say

Walkin like a one man army

Fightin with the shadows in your head

Living out the same old moment

Knowing you’d be better off instead

If you could only

Say what you need to say

Have no fear for giving in

Have no fear for getting older

You better know that in the end its better to say to much

Than to never to say what you need to say again

Even if your hands are shaking

And your faith is broken

Even as the eyes are closing

Do it with a heart wide open

Why?

Say what you need to say

I like it. No, I love it. I'm not going to go into some babbling blog about the message of the song (though I do appreciate it). Actually, it wasn't until I was at the gym this morning and saw the video for the song that I realized it is from the movie "The Bucket List" which I've never seen but heard is quite good.

This got me thinking, and as I was dying on the treadmill, my inner monologue was something like this: "self, if right here in the 15th minute of this run, you keel over, what are the things on your bucket list (for those of you unfamiliar with the movie, it's a list of things you want to do before you "kick the bucket") that you never would have done??

Well, here are the top ten (the real list is several pages long! :)) from MY Bucket List:

10) Learn to cook. Like really cook. If it isn't soup, frozen veggies, or a chicken breast on the George Foreman, I can't cook it. And I'm not kidding.
9) Move to one of the northern coasts
8) Visit the good old NYC--I've wanted to go there since I was just a youngin'
7) Learn another language--fluently. Not just the half assed Spanish I sortof know...
6) Run a marathon (or a half marathon...)
5) Learn how to play an instrument--the piano or the violin or the cello.
4) Write a novel. A good novel. A novel people would actually curl up with and drink tea to, and read and appreciate and talk about with their friends, and love.
3) Travel back to Asia--I'd love to revisit Thailand. Along with that, I think traveling to every continent can also go with one. To be honest, I want to travel pretty much any and everywhere. Backpack type traveling--4 tshirts and a few pairs of pants, makeup-less, maintenence free, dive into the local cuisine and clothing type traveling.
2) Live in Great Britain for a while--I was in London for a semester in school, but I really want to go back. Besides, I like to use the words bloody, brilliant, lovely, shoddy, and wanker--I think people would appreciate my lingo more if I was living amongst the Brits.
1) 3 letters : PhD--I don't know in what, or where, or when, but this is number 1.

What's on yours?

My dream job...

...is to be a commercial critic. I'm a commercial junkie. I don't often flip on commercials, and it's one of my cheap thrills in life when a good commercial comes on. Additionally, it's one of life's simple dissapointments when the commercial is absolutely no good.

So, as I sit here watching American Idol, I've decided to let you all in on my latest favorite commercials.

* "What the French, toast?"--you know, the Orbit gum commercial with the three people who get into this huge fight, but they all have such clean mouths that rather than saying your usual degrading phrases, they use things like lint licker, hoboken, etc. It's stinkin' funny.

* "That will be 63 dollars." "You mean, I have to pay for flowers someone sent me? That doesn't seem fair." "You know what's not fair, athsma. I'm a good runner." It's a cell phone commercial--Sprint, or Cingular---either way, good stuff!!

* The ATT commercial with the guy on the phone leaving a message for his date from the night before, and he's apologizing for the sweat issue and explains his extra sweat gland in his left armpit...

* The Lowe's commercial where the couple just bought carpet and are explaining it all excitedly, but it turns out they are just talking to the teller at the theatre and she doesn't give a damn. It's great.

The one that is annoying me the most right now is the US Cellular Valentine's Day commercial where they're babytalking to each other about phones...sick.

Seriously, if we are stuck with like 20 minutes of commercials every hour, they might as well be good. And we might as well enjoy them! My roommate Danielle and I, however, LOVE them!!

For the record, all of these can be found on YouTube, and I suggest you look them up.

Flippin' Grumpy

Let's just be honest here. I'm flippin' grumpy. There are several reasons--let me just tell you about a few of them...


One: whomever our landlord has hired to scoop the driveway does a sub-standard job and I was still up to my knees in snow when I got out of my car. Angry. And in heels. It's blowing like crazy out there anyway, must we really be subjected to trudging though the snow in work clothes and heels? Come on people!


Two: The chocolate candy bar that was intended as an officewide pick-me-up isn't much of a pick-me-up when the giver continues to blatantly ignore you. In fact, that turns the pick-me-up into a pull-me-down, which then takes a seemingly nice gesture and turns it into the complete opposite. Hate me if you must--but. please. stop. with the wishy-washy-ness!?

Three: Iowa Student Loan Corporation is sucking the life right out of me and my checkbook. I'm sorry, but never again can I go out for dinner, drinks, etc. I can never go see a movie at the theatre, buy a new pair of shoes, and still can't afford cable. Good thing I have wool socks so we can keep the heat down. I don't mind the taste of Ramen Noodles, thank goodness. I never wanted to have a social life anyway. I'm going to start selling my plasma.

Four: The one outlet I do have to take care of my pent up rage and anger was stricken from my schedule--kickboxing. Oh kickboxing, how I love thee. You, my one true thing. You are always there when you say you will be and push me past my limits. You force me to move for 45 minutes kicking and punching and imagining people's faces in those vinyl bags. Afterwards I am left sweaty, tired, and, strangely, emotionally re-balanced.


Five: I'm out of red wine.


On the other hand, I'm not out of beer. Although drinking it does break my "no drinking during the week rule," sometimes rules are meant to be broken. Also on the other hand, there is plenty of Sex and the City on DVD to last through the evening, and even though Mr. Big is the perfect jackass, I LOVE him (although not as much as Steve). And, even though there's probably enough cynicism right *here* to go around (twice), watching Miranda bask in her bitchy glory, somehow, makes me really happy. I think she and I are one in the same...