Memory #2

After a Saturday filled with boredom and family/self-induced mega stress I sought sanity in an old refuge MVP, otherwise known as Moon Valley Park. Armed with a sheet to lie on, my iPod, a book to read and a birthday card to write, I picked a familiar spot of grass near an old pine tree.

My stress wasn’t immediately subdued because minutes after setting up my arrangement, a makeshift baseball game of screaming young boys commenced a mere 20 feet away.

Fortunately my iPod rescued me, tuning out the adolescent fair vs. unfair arguments of the game, but I found myself put off again very quickly at the sight of trio of high-school-aged girls “parking it” across the way.

Who do they think they are taking up the sacred practice of The Friends of years gone by, I thought. But a second later I was flooded with the memories of some of my all-time-favorite days.

Junior year of high school my friends and I began spending our weekend days and often after-school hours doing homework, writing songs and just hanging out at the park. We deemed ourselves The Parkies and, in my mind, became pretty infamous.

Spring in Moon Valley never felt as magical as it did surrounded by my friends on that brittle dry grass when passing those hours struggling to figure out life, futures, relationships and AP U.S. History.

Here are some of my fondest:

- Westside wars with Sarkis
- The ambush by Jimmy following the stroking incident
- The drafting of “Overflow”
- Monsoon frog finding
- River rock peace sign construction

To the friends: What are yours?

He wasn't named "Most Likely to be a Comedian" for nothing

In the past couple days Jimmy has come up with some good funnies…

---While watching a car ever-so-slowly change move into a turn lane:

“How are there so many horrible drivers… I mean they’re practicing all day long?”

---7:03 a.m. at an airport in Idaho (via text message)

“Bluetooths are quite possibly the most advanced science in the art of doucheness”

For all intents and purposes...

is the correct way to say this phrase. Not "for all intensive purposes" like I have neively thought and used for over 15 years now. HA.

I wonder how many people have felt so embarassed for me that they couldn't muster up the guts to correct me. I make my living off using words correctly... how do I screw these things up so often?

I've Got to be Starting Somethin'

I can be creative and funny. Usually I'm the only one who appreciates these attributes of mine, but last Friday, I believe, I was not alone.

The NextStudent Web Marketing Department used to be an unpredictable and somewhat chaotic work environment complete with Nerf gun bullets whizzing past your face at any moment, Google beach balls barreling down on your desk and random outbursts of horribly catchy 80s tunes or Hanson songs. For a number of reasons, the mood in the office has been, let's just say, deflated as of late.

I thought it was time to inject some of that old NextStudent Web Marketing flair back into our days, so last Friday I proposed that we have Michael Jackson Fridays where the day's work of promoting student loans would be interspersed with MJ tunes at the most random and inappropriate of moments, and possibly some one-hand glove wearing.

Being the quirky and hilarious Web Marketing bunch that we are, my suggestion spawned a feisty brainstorm session, which resulted in our conclusion that every Friday would be themed Friday and it would be the responsibility of a new team member each week to pick the theme.

The day's creative responsibilities include coming up with: a song for the day, an appropriately themed prop (ie: pirate eye patch), and a word-for-the-day (non-theme-related) that will be used Pee-Wee Herman style.

Needless to say, this Friday will be an interesting one in the NextStudent Web Marketing world.

Memory #1

New Series Warning:

I am going to attempt to implement a new weekly post, starting with this one…

My iPod has been broken for about a year now and by broken I mean it isn’t recognized by my computer when I plug it in, so I can’t add or delete any songs. Thus I am left with the same songs that I’ve had on it since my sophomore year of college.

This is a disclaimer, but let me make it clear that I’m not ashamed to say that I used to listen to New Found Glory and I’m not even embarrassed to admit that I still listen when a song pops up on the pod now and there.

“Broken Sound” off their Nothing Gold Can Stay album came on this afternoon when I was at work. I can’t listen to this song without flashing back to the good ole’ BJ Yhetti days; my memory was flooded with an image of Jocie hunched over with her Slash-like hair hanging lifelessly in front of her face while the slow, sad intro to this song would stream out of her peach-colored Danelectro.

It was a running joke, and a partially true statement, that whenever Joss played this song we would say “Oh Joss must be sad” and then laugh when she got pissed that we said it again. It was as if the song was a musical representation of her emotions, just like when that fricken’ old tiny keyboard of the Johnson’s would project the moods of the “hypothetical retarded/mute Teta character” by playing “Ode to Joy.”

I know this is all very inside jokey, but I hope the friends appreciate it.

In case this little anecdote didn’t do it for you, maybe this will.

Something Smells Fishy

Less than 24 hours later, I'm already down one fish. Bully white: 1, Silver Dollar: 0

The game of life using Monopoly money?!

New five

The Stress of Piano Playing Takes its Toll

I’ve been teaching my five-year-old cousin Molly how to play simple songs on the piano. Admittedly she is my favorite little cousin, and according to a very funny story from my aunt, she “really likes” me too and thinks I’m “really pretty.”

But besides her being one of the cutest damn kids I’ve ever seen, which is a big deal for me to say keeping in mind my genetic predisposition for being anti-children, she is the strongest (no kidding she’s got a six-pack) and most naturally musically talented child I’ve ever come across.

In a matter of minutes she picks up a song on the piano, all I have to do is play the song a few times and guide her through rough parts by pointing at the correct next note above her fingers as she plays.

What is most impressive to me is when she turns away from the piano for a minute, her hand goes right back to the correct octave on the keyboard she has been playing at. And she clearly has a natural ear for music because she will figure out the note progression and rhythm of the rest of a song if I don’t finish teaching her or without really going over that part of the song in detail with her.

Her repertoire currently includes:

“The Barney Song”
"Happy Birthday”
“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”
“Old McDonald Had a Farm”

Sunday we had another little piano instruction session at the birthday party for Melissa, her mom. After teaching her the latest tune, “Old McDonald” she turned to me, leaned back on the piano bench and in all serious said… “Oh I’m kinda sweaty.”

It was pretty much the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard a kid say.

She kept on trucking though and played “Happy Birthday” from the other room while we sang along. A very proud moment for me.

My latest obsession

Dented (Physically), Bruised (Mentally)

I got in a car accident.

It was not my fault.

No one was cited.

I have no front bumper.

I am $500 poorer.

I am angry.

Barfness?

Best quote from Christian on Project Runway yet.

Gosh, does it ever end?

Do we ever really figure out who we are? If we do, then how do we get there and if we do get there then will we know it when it happens?

The moment I feel like I've made some headway I find myself lost at the next corner.

Is that just how it's supposed to go? Are the people who claim to know who they are just convincing themselves that they're right?

I hate issues like this; I don't even know why I'm writing about it.

Get Out and Vote

This is the second presidential primary I have been old enough to vote in. I didn't vote the last Super Tuesday. There are no excuses for me or for anyone else who didn't cast their ballot and there shouldn't be this year especially.

I'm not a very political person; I don't know enough about the climate to claim to be a political person, but I do know enough about the state of our nation just by living it every day and neither you nor anyone else can deny that it isn't the best state our country has ever seen.

I'm getting tired of hearing the word "change" but the fact is that this time next year we will not have the same president and we will not have the same administration and we will not be in the same place we are today.

You can't transform the past, but you can help dictate the future.

Forget excuses. Forget laziness.

Get out and vote today.


And if you're still making up your mind about a candidate, maybe this will help.

After the Storm

Can't Stop Laughing

My job at NextStudent is great because I get to listen to stuff like this blasted from computers all day.

***Warning: You might want to turn down your volume. This is David Lee Roth's overdub track on "Running With the Devil"... just the overdub track.

Mmmm Mmmm Good

My birthday gifts all together. Flowers and vase from Jimmy and candlesticks and candles from my mom.

Disuasion

I was met by opposition Sunday to my Obama endorsement from none other than my family... and from members of my family, none the less, that I truly respect and admire.

Their choice is Edwards, which was not the problem.

One particular member, who is not for Edwards but none other than a Bush supporter, had the audacity to try to persuade me against my electoral decision by using Obama's tax policies as the only deterrent; "When you make more money, you'll change your mind."

There are so many things about this sentence that bother me.

First of all, if you're going to try to convince me that my candidate is the wrong choice, than you might want to consider choosing more than one topic to stand on. Plus, haven't we learned that political bashing doesn't get very far?

Second of all, taxes are the least of my concern for this election and of minimal concern in my personal life considering they're not going to change anytime soon, nor is there that much room for them to change in my current and most likely long-lasting financial situation.

Third of all "when you make more money" is such a condescending phrase. What I heard was "oh you're just naive, but don't worry you'll become enlightened like me and have this huge epiphany... it's inevitable.

In any case, this short exchange just further cemented my support for Obama who is now, by the way, a Mii character on my Wii and is coming to town tomorrow for an event I was personally invited to.

Silly kids

It almost goes against my moral code to share this story because I don't like kids, but this one is just too damn funny.

Jimmy was hanging on Port-Au-Prince, the only place to be in Moon Valley, trying once again to master his neighbor's kid's Ripstick skateboard. Even though Jimmy has been skateboarding for years, he still can't get the hang of it, so he made a comment that maybe he's getting to old.

The little boy then asked:

Chase: "How old are you?"
Jimmy: "24"
Chase: "On the Wii?"

You gotta love how this game is changing the world.

Infertility for the Petless

As I was driving home from work today I realized that I now know what it must feel like to be infertile in my own way.

The last stretch of my drive passes by Moon Valley Park where, invariably, I will see someone with their dog, either enjoying a nice stroll or playing a game of fetch. I find myself staring out the window longing to see that human/canine companionship only to harbor feelings of delight, then resentment, then depression when I do.

My pet owning hopes have been dashed, at least for the next seven months, as my landlord reaffirmed his no-pet policy after I finally asked him if he would reconsider so I could get a kitty. I was proud of myself for finally abandoning the dog idea and had conceding and enthusiastically accepted the idea of getting a kitty instead.

Oh well it's probably for the best.

But I'm reading a wonderful book right now called "Animals in Translation" by Temple Grandin, an autistic animal scientist, who connects the way animals and those with autism similarly process information and behave. This passage explains why I'm so obsessed with animals, why I think babies are overrated compared to animals and why it's so painful and difficult for me to be without them.

"Animals aren't ambivalent; they don't have love-hate relationships with each other or with people. That's one of the reasons humans love animals so much; animals are loyal. If an animal loves you he loves you no matter what. He doesn't care what you look like or how much money you make."

Repeating Beats & Thumping Bass

So I went to a rave this weekend. Not by choice. Not by my own will. Not by being dragged in, but yes I can officially say I've been to a rave and it was truly everything I ever imagined it would be.

To sum up my experience quickly:

$20 + sweaty sauna-like air + abandoned office building + techno beats = Tucson rave

Now let me back up.

I was in Tucson visiting my beloved Austin-dwelling Adriana. Her friends were going to a rave that one of their friends was playing at... spinning at...showing at? I don't even know the right terminology.

For anyone who has ever been to Tucson, you know that most parts of the god forsaken city are shitty and rundown, especially south Tucson. But how more appropriate could a location for a rave be?

We park on a street corner, completely devoid of life and await a phone call for directions on how to get to the actual building. They are as follows:

Walk west down the street.
Cross the construction zone.
Take a left at the large tractor trailer.
Walk down the ally until you see the two story building.
Walk up the staircase.
Through the hole in the wall.
Shimmy down the slide.

Okay so those last two steps on the list are false, but you get the picture of how ridiculous this sounded.

And just to give you a visual... I am wearing nice trouser jeans, a stark white long-sleeve v-neck shirt from J Crew and my knee-length black pea coat. A far cry from the light-up shirts, pleated skirts, fishnets, boots and mini backpacks or the occasional just bra and underwear I saw inside.

Room number one... filled with sweaty gyrating preteens with florescently lit pacifiers in their mouths flashing glowsticks around to the beats of an eight-year-old DJ (believe me, I couldn't make this up if I tried... my background is journalism, not creative writing).

"Rave" was painted on the walls in metallic letters (in case the previously described scene didn't give you enough clues) and the room was a stifling 87 degrees with 100 percent humidity, I'm guessing.

Rooms two, three and four are pretty much the same scenario except the others are smaller and one also has a table to sell alcohol. Oh and at the end of the hall a man was selling all the glow-in-the-dark merchandise you could ever want or dream of.

We were asked if we wanted pills by a wandering man in the hallway, some guy made fun of the fact that I had a huge coat draped over my big leather bag and the cops apparently showed up and left (my guess is they couldn't sufficiently substantiate that the binky toting, platform boot wearing, sweaty teens filing out of a bass-thumping abandoned building were coming actually coming from a rave).

I was ready to leave before we got there, but after an hour and a half or so of my lungs and my pores screaming at me for relief, we finally left and all I had to show for myself was the pathetic red "x" marked on my left hand.

Birthday Wish List (not in order of wantingness)

For anyone who knows me, I’m kinda obsessed with my birthday. I really really don’t need anything, but there are plenty of things I want this year… most of which I will probably end up buying for myself.

New iPod: I’ve had one for about four years, but it’s half broken, meaning that I can no longer put songs on it. Although I’m going to end up losing all my music, because it decided to break during one of the times I had to completely redo my computer, I think it’s time. Black 80 GB please.

Banana Republic’s Alabaster perfume: Every girl needs a scent variety.

Banana Republic’s trouser jeans: I’m obsessed with trouser pants and I’d like another pair for work, since I’m pretty much the only person in the office that doesn’t wear jeans every day.

A puppy: By puppy I mean dog and it doesn’t really matter what kind as long as it’s not a Chihuahua or a Pekingese. My latest puppy obsession is this, a minature Australian Shepherd. This is a photo of my favorite blogger's new dog.

A green vase: Lime green is my decorating theme and I’d like one for my side table. This one from Ikea would work quite nicely.

A skateboard: I’ve always wanted to be a badass chick skater and now that I am a badass chick snowboarder, I think that I can handle it.

A new black purse: I could just buy myself one, but I’ve gotten much better at restraining myself. Although this Cole Haan purse on sale at Dillards isn't bad.

A birthday cake from Nadine’s Bakery in Tucson

Little surprises make me happy

After a wonderful weekend of snowboarding filled fun with the fam, I came home to an even more wonderful sight (if that’s possible). I discovered that I have an invisible or very very tiny cleaning, organizing and decorating elf that lives in my townhome. It waters my plants, hangs up my jackets, cleans my kitchen, scrubs and vacuums my floors and even organizes my shoes and hangs hooks to hang my new apron.

I don’t know what one does to deserve such a luxury, but I will continue to ponder and overanalyze my actions (something I’m already very good at) to solve the mystery.

Obama is it

I'm going with Sen. Obama. It has nothing to do with the results of last night's caucus, because frankly I can't put much faith in the outcome of a process that makes absolutely no sense to me not matter how hard I try to understand it. It has relatively little to do with my knowledge of his campaign or his background, because I have tried to steer clear of learning about both of those points. And it has nothing to do with my best friend's recent endorsement, even though it was written immaculately. It has everything to do with his voice.

Perhaps this reason isn't the best to choose a presidential candidate; it has no logical basis, isn't derived from a detailed pro and con list or extensive research (the ways in which I usually make my important decisions). But I don't really care, because the only person I have to justify my decision to is myself.

I have been listening to a lot of NPR lately and tend to have the TV news on in the background when I'm at home and I want to know that the president that I choose will have a pleasant, competent and inspiring voice. Because I can't take another four or even eight years of a voice that makes me giggle and twitch at the same time.

Obama's voice has passion and compassion, vigor and life, assertiveness and assurance. There's no insincere push in the way he talks, unlike some of the other candidates. I want to feel safe in the voice of my president and that's what Obama does for me.

So there you have it. My choice is Obama's voice.