Where: My House
When: Wednesday, August 2nd @ 10:00 p.m.
What: Drinking [virgin] pina coladas
Why: I'm a [virgin] soon-to-be graduate and likely moving away
Who: You. If you know my first name and last name, that is. And if you're on my blog sidebar, I especially expect you. No expectations of the out-of-towners.
If you need to know where I live, please email me at [firstname].[lastname]@gmail.com.
Not cool. Definitetly not cooler.
When I came home from California on Monday, the Megetable (alternative name for Redras) had the swamp cooler running. The apartment was nice and cool. Unfortunately, lately the swamp cooler has been spitting our brown, dirty swamp water. It's also been spitting dirty flecks of what looks like paint chips into the room.
But I think later Monday night, at one point we turned the swamp cooler off and then on again. Suddenly the house filled with this strong, strong smell of burning rubber. I immediately turned the thing off and called the landlord.
The landlord had the neighbors (who receive a rent deduction to take care of household things) look at it. The neighbor guy said he figured he knew what the problem was and got the parts he needed to have it fixed. I was at work, but the Megetable said that it worked for about twenty minutes and then began to emit the stench of burning rubber. (It's so bad, by the way, that you have to air out the whole house after it runs for about 10 seconds. I only wish I were exaggerating.)
So a professional guy (friend of our landlord's?) came to fix it yesterday. He seemed pretty competant and confident. When he was done, he said he needed a part and would come back the next day to fix the rest.
He came back today and got it all fixed. I waited till he was done to take my nap. When he left, I set it on low and went to sleep to the sweet, sweet humming of cool air.
And woke up in a pool of my own sweat, hearing no humming at all. Yes, my friends. The swamp cooler is still broken.
But I think later Monday night, at one point we turned the swamp cooler off and then on again. Suddenly the house filled with this strong, strong smell of burning rubber. I immediately turned the thing off and called the landlord.
The landlord had the neighbors (who receive a rent deduction to take care of household things) look at it. The neighbor guy said he figured he knew what the problem was and got the parts he needed to have it fixed. I was at work, but the Megetable said that it worked for about twenty minutes and then began to emit the stench of burning rubber. (It's so bad, by the way, that you have to air out the whole house after it runs for about 10 seconds. I only wish I were exaggerating.)
So a professional guy (friend of our landlord's?) came to fix it yesterday. He seemed pretty competant and confident. When he was done, he said he needed a part and would come back the next day to fix the rest.
He came back today and got it all fixed. I waited till he was done to take my nap. When he left, I set it on low and went to sleep to the sweet, sweet humming of cool air.
And woke up in a pool of my own sweat, hearing no humming at all. Yes, my friends. The swamp cooler is still broken.
Traffic Stopper
I need a car.
This morning I had a job interview. The job is in Provo, but it is a few miles down Canyon Road. I needed a ride to my job interview because I couldn't walk because I would have shown up a sweaty, unkempt mess. I borrowed Redras's car. I said a lot of ums and ahs during my interview.
Still, they called me back for a second interview not half an hour after the first interview ended. We set up an appointment for 4:30.
Which was great except that I couldn't borrow Redras's car because she'd need it for work. So I got a coworker to drive me there.
After my job interview [insert lack of details here because I don't want to talk about it right now], the plan was that I'd call Limon and he'd come pick me up. I got out of the interview at 5:00. Limon's shift ends at 5:00. I called Limon's phone and got his voice mail. I started walking down Canyon Road.
I eventually realized that Limon might actually be working late. It took me ten full minutes to come to this conclusion. We don't get cell reception in our cement bunker. So I called my private line at work. Limon eventually answered. I asked him to come pick me up, but I knew it would take him at least twenty minutes to get to me.
I didn't mind because I'm training for a half marathon and my training today was "walk 30-40 minutes."
I continued walking down Canyon Road in my business best: a knee-length pencil skirt, a summer sweater, nylons, and nice shoes. And a briefcase.
I brought out a sweat rag because I am a head sweater (I called my mom this morning when I was getting ready for my interview and threatened to sue her for giving me the head-sweating genes). I occasionally (every twenty seconds) mopped my face and neck.
And before Limon could come get me, two cars pulled U-turns to ask if they could give me a ride. Actually, maybe I don't need a car. Perhaps if I add a limp to my sweat-mopping, I'll receive more solicitations to give me rides... Anyone want to walk with me to Salt Lake City?
This morning I had a job interview. The job is in Provo, but it is a few miles down Canyon Road. I needed a ride to my job interview because I couldn't walk because I would have shown up a sweaty, unkempt mess. I borrowed Redras's car. I said a lot of ums and ahs during my interview.
Still, they called me back for a second interview not half an hour after the first interview ended. We set up an appointment for 4:30.
Which was great except that I couldn't borrow Redras's car because she'd need it for work. So I got a coworker to drive me there.
After my job interview [insert lack of details here because I don't want to talk about it right now], the plan was that I'd call Limon and he'd come pick me up. I got out of the interview at 5:00. Limon's shift ends at 5:00. I called Limon's phone and got his voice mail. I started walking down Canyon Road.
I eventually realized that Limon might actually be working late. It took me ten full minutes to come to this conclusion. We don't get cell reception in our cement bunker. So I called my private line at work. Limon eventually answered. I asked him to come pick me up, but I knew it would take him at least twenty minutes to get to me.
I didn't mind because I'm training for a half marathon and my training today was "walk 30-40 minutes."
I continued walking down Canyon Road in my business best: a knee-length pencil skirt, a summer sweater, nylons, and nice shoes. And a briefcase.
I brought out a sweat rag because I am a head sweater (I called my mom this morning when I was getting ready for my interview and threatened to sue her for giving me the head-sweating genes). I occasionally (every twenty seconds) mopped my face and neck.
And before Limon could come get me, two cars pulled U-turns to ask if they could give me a ride. Actually, maybe I don't need a car. Perhaps if I add a limp to my sweat-mopping, I'll receive more solicitations to give me rides... Anyone want to walk with me to Salt Lake City?
Trip Highlights
The Beach
Although I put a lot of time and effort in putting together my beach outfit (I had to actually go and buy a bathing suit for the first time in years), I clearly am not a beach girl after all.
One of the advantages of an unplanned trip is that you get to make it up as you go along. After the beach on Saturday we were discussing what we could do. I mentioned that I'd never been to Mexico. So we drove to the border, parked the car, and walked to Mexico. I loved the fact that there was no checking of documents on one's way INTO Mexico, but there was a big line to get OUT of Mexico. Tijuana was dirty, just as I expected. But the dirty men who solicit you are strangely good for the self esteem. When I'm feeling down, I'll always remember that dirty old men in Mexico will always want me. The number one priority in Mexico was to get a gift for a friend of mine who asked me to pick him up something expensive in Mexico. I got him a Mexican wrestling mask like Strong Bad wears.
Seals
There's this beach in San Diego that was made for humans but that seals found and claimed for themselves. So now, there's a beach in San Diego where humans can go to stare at seals. There's a line drawn in the sand that you're not supposed to cross. Switchback tells me that sometimes old men drag their barbecues across the line to protest the seal's claim on the beach. Then the PETA people get angry. The old men believe that humans, not seals, should have the beach.
Mirage
I rode back to Utah with Captains Fabuloso and Mom. On our way through Nevada, we stopped at Primm, an outlet shopping center. Immediately before you reach Primm, there is a stretch of desert that is sand only. We could see the area as we were driving towards it because we were coming from a higher elevation---we could see the sandy area and Primm very clearly. But as we got closer and lower in elevation, I saw that there was a giant lake in front of Primm. I thought that was funny because I hadn't seen a lake when we were looking down on the area, but the lake was clearly there. You could even see the reflections of the buildings in the water. And at this point, I started to recall something about mirages being an actual physical phenomenon. I suppose I had always assumed that they were more a mental delusion than a physical phenomenon. Only I knew that I wasn't delusional and I wasn't even thirsty. Captains Fabuloso and Mom discussed the "lake" with me and we all determined that as real as it looked to all of us, it must be a mirage. And sure enough, the closer we drove to Primm, the smaller the lake got until it eventually turned to dust. Which was so cool but would have been so depressing if we had actually been thirsty, dying wanderers.
Although I put a lot of time and effort in putting together my beach outfit (I had to actually go and buy a bathing suit for the first time in years), I clearly am not a beach girl after all.
- I put out my towel on the sand beside Switchback's. Hers was easily twice the size of mine. I had assumed that because my towel had blue stripes, it was a beach towel. My towel was not a beach towel.
- I was smearing sun screen on Switchback's back and she started yelling at me for standing on her towel, telling me that not standing on someone else's towel is the number one rule of beach etiquette.
- I brought a book that Redras had lent me and left it spine-open in the sun when I went into the water. When I came back, the glue had melted and the pages from the first part of the book had come completely loose.
- I brought way too much stuff to the beach. I didn't use half of it.
One of the advantages of an unplanned trip is that you get to make it up as you go along. After the beach on Saturday we were discussing what we could do. I mentioned that I'd never been to Mexico. So we drove to the border, parked the car, and walked to Mexico. I loved the fact that there was no checking of documents on one's way INTO Mexico, but there was a big line to get OUT of Mexico. Tijuana was dirty, just as I expected. But the dirty men who solicit you are strangely good for the self esteem. When I'm feeling down, I'll always remember that dirty old men in Mexico will always want me. The number one priority in Mexico was to get a gift for a friend of mine who asked me to pick him up something expensive in Mexico. I got him a Mexican wrestling mask like Strong Bad wears.
Seals
There's this beach in San Diego that was made for humans but that seals found and claimed for themselves. So now, there's a beach in San Diego where humans can go to stare at seals. There's a line drawn in the sand that you're not supposed to cross. Switchback tells me that sometimes old men drag their barbecues across the line to protest the seal's claim on the beach. Then the PETA people get angry. The old men believe that humans, not seals, should have the beach.
Mirage
I rode back to Utah with Captains Fabuloso and Mom. On our way through Nevada, we stopped at Primm, an outlet shopping center. Immediately before you reach Primm, there is a stretch of desert that is sand only. We could see the area as we were driving towards it because we were coming from a higher elevation---we could see the sandy area and Primm very clearly. But as we got closer and lower in elevation, I saw that there was a giant lake in front of Primm. I thought that was funny because I hadn't seen a lake when we were looking down on the area, but the lake was clearly there. You could even see the reflections of the buildings in the water. And at this point, I started to recall something about mirages being an actual physical phenomenon. I suppose I had always assumed that they were more a mental delusion than a physical phenomenon. Only I knew that I wasn't delusional and I wasn't even thirsty. Captains Fabuloso and Mom discussed the "lake" with me and we all determined that as real as it looked to all of us, it must be a mirage. And sure enough, the closer we drove to Primm, the smaller the lake got until it eventually turned to dust. Which was so cool but would have been so depressing if we had actually been thirsty, dying wanderers.
Quick Trip
When I talked about almost buying an Accent, I mentioned that Nemesis and I took a quick trip to California. About four years ago, I showed up to work one day and Nemesis said, "Want to go to California? We're leaving tomorrow." I called my mom to tell her that I was going to California. She was not pleased. I guess she wasn't really pleased because I called to tell her that I was going to California, not to ask her if I could go to California. I figured that because I was a college student, I didn't have to ask permission to go on trips anymore. My mom was seriously displeased. She asked who I was going with (I told her that Nemesis was my boss and the other girl was going to be in charge of fifty second-graders in a month, so my road trip mates were definitely responsible). She asked when we were leaving. How long we were going to be there. How we were traveling.
She was not pleased. She mentioned that if I went and died, she'd never forgive herself for letting me go. I pointed out that now, if I stayed in Provo for the weekend and died, she'd also never forgive herself for not letting me go. So either way, if I died that weekend, she'd never forgive herself. She also added, "I haven't even talked to your father about this, you know."
We talked about an hour later, after she had talked to my father. She thought he'd be even more reluctant to let me go than she was. Instead, he reminded her that I was an adult and she needed to let me grow up. (I should point out that at the time, I was already older than my mother was when she got married.) So she let me grow up, but reminded me that I was not a big city girl.
We went and met up with Amy Jane in California and had a great weekend. Oh, and I didn't die.
Well, on Wednesday, I got a random text message from Switchback that said, "Are you coming this weekend?" I was confused because I didn't know why she would even wonder if I was coming to San Diego this weekend. I thought maybe she read my blog about cars and assumed that I already had a car and would therefore immediately drive out to see her. No, she hadn't read my blog. She just figured it was a good idea for me to go to San Diego for the weekend. I patiently reminded her of all the reasons I could not go to San Diego (no money, no car, no air miles, no money, no car).
And yet, I started thinking about how I could possibly make it out to San Diego. And suddenly this morning, things came together when I found out that Kit was making a trip to southern California tomorrow and Captains Fabuloso and Mom were making their trip home from southern California on Monday.
So to you all, I say, "See you later, suckas. I'm going to California!"
She was not pleased. She mentioned that if I went and died, she'd never forgive herself for letting me go. I pointed out that now, if I stayed in Provo for the weekend and died, she'd also never forgive herself for not letting me go. So either way, if I died that weekend, she'd never forgive herself. She also added, "I haven't even talked to your father about this, you know."
We talked about an hour later, after she had talked to my father. She thought he'd be even more reluctant to let me go than she was. Instead, he reminded her that I was an adult and she needed to let me grow up. (I should point out that at the time, I was already older than my mother was when she got married.) So she let me grow up, but reminded me that I was not a big city girl.
We went and met up with Amy Jane in California and had a great weekend. Oh, and I didn't die.
Well, on Wednesday, I got a random text message from Switchback that said, "Are you coming this weekend?" I was confused because I didn't know why she would even wonder if I was coming to San Diego this weekend. I thought maybe she read my blog about cars and assumed that I already had a car and would therefore immediately drive out to see her. No, she hadn't read my blog. She just figured it was a good idea for me to go to San Diego for the weekend. I patiently reminded her of all the reasons I could not go to San Diego (no money, no car, no air miles, no money, no car).
And yet, I started thinking about how I could possibly make it out to San Diego. And suddenly this morning, things came together when I found out that Kit was making a trip to southern California tomorrow and Captains Fabuloso and Mom were making their trip home from southern California on Monday.
So to you all, I say, "See you later, suckas. I'm going to California!"
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