Playing Ketchup Part 1

I've definitely been through some crap in my life, but the Universe (my arch-nemesis) decided to throw my way a rather eclectic slew of challenges both big and small within a relatively short period of time. With every new shitstorm, I would chuckle and utter, "Well played, sir, well played." Then I would burst into tears because eventually even the most minor of hiccups would send me reeling at the cruelty and injustice of fate. Once the clock struck 2013, however, life became just a little bit brighter. (After I stopped vomiting all over San Francisco, details to come). I know it's insane to think that things magically change when one year ends and the next begins. But the proof is in the pudding. Mmm... pudding.

Playing Ketchup

How do I summarize six months worth of drama, heartbreak, transition, and triumph? Why, let's make a list! (I feel like this is the start of a very bizarre musical number, but then again, that's how I feel about 90% of the time).

1. My Body Has Declared Mutiny

After hardly being sick a day in my life (other than a random week of vertigo in high school during which I tried to walk down the hallway and ended up swaying and stumbling into lockers like the love child of Lucille 2 and a drunken sailor), I managed to end up at the doctor at least a bajillion times (more like 7 or 8, but still). While the issues I faced were in no way serious or life-threatening, (trying to maintain perspective), it definitely felt like it at the time. Ultimately I blame the stress from my job at Studio City for completely fucking up my immune system. I'm still dealing with some health problems, but everything seems to be under control at the moment. Of course now I find myself frantically WebMDing even the slightest twinge, cough, or tummy rumble. The experience has made me a raging hypochondriac, so thanks for that new diagnosis as well, Universe.

Lucille 2
My imaginary mother

2. RIP Stan 1989-2012

My beloved car and oft-mentioned Partner in Crime, Stan, perished on October 5th, 2012. I was coming home from Sally Tomatoes practice late at night when I noticed he was making strange chugging noises up the 405 near Sherman Oaks. All of a sudden, the lights went out. Whatever strange car disease he caught must have been contagious, since he sidled up right behind another car that was also stopped dead in the right hand lane. They had to shut down the whole frickin' freeway which was still crowded at 10:30pm on a Wednesday, so a CHP car could literally push me up the hill and roll down the other side to the offramp. It was very dramatic. While I waited in the cold for a tow truck, I curled up in a ball in the front seat, sobbing. I had a feeling this was the beginning of the end for my dear friend. Sure enough, Pep Boys would have had to basically rebuild the whole frickin' engine. Not worth it for a car this old and admittedly shitty. So I donated his body to charity and adjusted to the harsh reality of being a pedestrian in LA.

3. The Schlep

I had only just transferred to my new property in Pasadena, originally a mere 20 minute drive from North Hollywood, when suddenly I had a two hour commute on my hands. This involved two trains and a thirty minute walk through ghetto NoHo. Because LA public transportation is stupid. Adding two hours on either end of my work day was just killing me. Not literally. But it did suck.

4. My 25th Birthday

Speaking of suck, October 16th was my 25th birthday. Arguably the last milestone birthday I will ever have (if you consider finally being able to rent a car as a milestone). I had to work that day, so I carried my party dress, cute shoes, and makeup all the way through the Schlep for my birthday dinner at Cheesecake Factory in Old Town Pasadena. I invited fourteen people. Guess how many showed up. One. My dear gay husband Eric, who still made the whole affair fabulous. But when you're already having a hard time, you just want to have fun and cheesecake with the people who love you. While I know that this is not the end of the world, especially compared to everything else that was going on, it was definitely the rancid cherry on top of a crap sundae.

Fun Fact: My birthday was at the same Cheesecake Factory where Penny works in the Big Bang Theory. It looks nothing like this and I'm not sure why on earth she wears that ridiculous uniform that also bears no resemblance to the real thing. In any case, the more you know!

5. The Big Move

This one is actually a good thing. Because I could no longer stand losing four hours of my life commuting, I knew I had to move to Pasadena STAT. Ever since I left UC Irvine, I vowed never again to have a roommate. Not that my experiences with roommates were so bad, but I love being Queen of my own castle. I finally came to the realization that I could either spend $775 for a terrible one-bedroom in the ghetto with no A/C or heater, but plenty of cockroaches, or spend substantially less to share a discounted luxury two-bedroom in glorious Pasadena at one of my company's properties. Needless to say, my place is BOMB (to borrow a 90s colloquialism)! Also, my roommate Smita is awesome. We very rarely see each other, but when we do, we hang out and watch Say Yes to the Dress or forensic cop shows.

Another Fun Fact: the exterior of City Hall from Parks and Rec is also in Pasadena. I fucking love this town!

6. Boy Drama

a. Winston.
I took a break from boys while I was figuring some stuff out. But once I thought I was back on my feet,  I met a guy named Winston. He was very sweet and I thought the name Winston was the best thing ever. Sadly Winston gave me the creeps. I could never put my finger on why exactly. I tried to give him a second chance by inviting him to watch Community over at my place. I was still commuting at the time, so I ended up falling asleep on the couch halfway through the second episode. Yes, I was exhausted, but I have a feeling if I had liked him more, I probably would have powered through. Poor guy, will probably always be traumatized by that. He tried to kiss me good night and my gut instinct was to basically shove him out the door. The last time that happened was with the French Creeper. Has this impulse ever happened to anyone else?

"Are there other black nerds, or is it just you and Urkel?" -30 Rock

b. Patrick
Patrick was a good guy. Imagine Toofer from 30 Rock, only slightly less pompous. We went on a fantastic first date to a South American BBQ place that must have been really expensive. (I'm not used to that). We got along great, talked for a few hours at Starbucks, and he walked me home in the rain. Then I was an adorable romcom heroine and couldn't get the damn security gate unlocked with my fancy new laser fob thingie. I ended up having to call myself on the intercom to buzz myself in. Which he thought was hilarious. And then I never heard from him again. At least not until a few weeks ago. I was used to guys disappearing though it always drives me nuts. But he sincerely apologized and explained himself to my satisfaction. When I told him I was dating someone else, he gallantly said, "I knew I couldn't be your only fan." Sweet, right? Though now it sounds kind of creepy and stalkerish. But I swear, it wasn't like that. I hope.

c. Matthew
Frickin' puppet master. Not even worth a whole paragraph.

I find this picture highly unsettling...

d. James
The first time I ever said "Fuck you" to someone, and genuinely meant it. I guess it's my own fault. Damn those twinkly blue eyes and devilish grin. That boy is poooooiiiisoooon.

7. Family Drama

I don't really want to go into the details of this one. Basically, the one thing I always thought I could count on, my family, nearly fell apart around Thanksgiving. As a whole, we seem to have moved past it, but it's still not ok with me.

Corporate espionage!!! Dun dun dun!

8. Selling Out

The Monday after Thanksgiving, my company found out that our two biggest competitors bought us out and were going to divide us up 60/40. The well-established, flourishing company that I finally had grown to love (after transferring to Pasadena and realizing that it was just Studio City that was Hell on Wheels), no longer exists. Imagine if McDonald's and Carl's Jr. randomly decided to buy out Burger King. It's kind of like that. No one saw it coming. At the time, we didn't know if we were all still going to have jobs, or what the new company would be like. The term "drinking from the firehose" was thrown around a lot. The sale is finally complete, but we are still in the painful process of transition. It's turning out to be ok, just awkward. The only thing that remains to be seen is whether I my kickass employee housing discount will be cut in half. That would suck. But we shall see.

9. Grief

Not long after attending a friend's funeral, I lost two members of my own extended family. Some of my other friends have experienced similar tragedies and my heart just breaks for them as well. It definitely comes in waves.

I wish I looked this pretty when I'm sick...

10. Vomitting on BART

To top off a truly banner year, on New Year's Eve I christened a Bay Area Rapid Transit train with the contents of my upset stomach. Specifically, copious amounts of pasta mixed with vodka. Sorry about that, people of San Francisco! But that's what you get when your best friend who moved to San Francisco leaving you alone and miserable in LA is a former alcoholic and drinks vicariously through you and you just happen to be a lightweight. After a lovely day visiting with Eric and exploring the city, we had decided to watch the midnight fireworks over Fisherman's Wharf from on top of a faraway hill. But the entire time the fireworks were exploding and Eric was sharing the traditional New Year's kiss with his boyfriend, I was blorching like a champ. I like to think that I was vomiting up everything bad about 2012. I still had a nasty hangover on January 1st, but once it was over, a fresh start lay ahead.

So that's just a sampling of everything that sucked about 2012. This is already a really long post, so I think I'll leave the sort-of happy ending for next time. Ta da!

Welcome to NoHo, Bitch!

After over three years of living in what could arguably be considered "The Ghetto," tonight was the first time I ever felt like I was in any real danger. I was coming home from a night on the town with my girls, and had decided to take the Metro in order to skip the hassle of driving downtown. It was about 11:45pm and the train was just pulling into the NoHo station, the end of the line. Unfortunately, the escalator was out, so I had to hike up four flights of stairs in heels and a relatively short dress. I tried to hold the skirt against me to avoid flashing any unfortunate travelers below me, but apparently all this did was draw even more attention to my ass (which needs no introduction in the first place).

No easy feat.

I was still listening to my iPod, a necessity for warding off overly chatty neighbors on the train. But as I got closer to the top, I realized that someone was following a little too close. I needed all of my senses clear and my hands free. That someone turned out to be a man in his forties, about 5'6'', and drunk off his ass. He mumbled to me something along the lines of the following:

"You got a real cute ass. I want to munch on it."

Um. Ew.

My standard girl response was to walk quicker and just ignore my would-be suitor. I had my phone out just in case, and grabbed my keys out of my purse. Cursing the fact that I hadn't been able to park closer, I motored to the safety of Stan. I realized that the guy was following me still, quiet like a really drunk ninja. No one was around at this point, and the hoards of security guards hovering around earlier that night were nowhere to be found. 

The guy got down on the ground as I unlocked the door of my car. He was clearly trying to look up my skirt again, slurring some more about my nice ass and how he wanted to lick it. Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ewwwwwww!

The most badass scene of all time.

Without thinking, I brandished my car key like Crocodile Dundee's machete and said, "I will fucking stab you in the eyeballs if you don't get the fuck away from me right now." Then I threatened to call the police. He looked scared, as well he should, and stumbled away. 

I am one terrifying son of a bitch.

I got in my car, locked the door, and sped away. I almost hit him on the way out of the parking lot. That would have been Stan's revenge.

So the moral of the story is, always have your keys ready, and when ignoring someone doesn't work, threaten them with severe maiming and foul language.

I was having a bad day before this, and being raped was really the last thing I needed. In a way, I guess I should thank him. Because now I feel like an Amazon badass, straight outta South Central. Rather than feeling shaken and fragile, I feel empowered and self-sufficient. I don't need some stupid security guard. I'm my own goddamn security guard.

Suck it.

Riding on the Metro-o-o!

I don't have a lot of time, since I only have access to the internet on my lunch at work. It's still not set up at my new place, which has really grown on me since I first moved in. Now that most of my stuff is set up, I'm super stoked. My only concern is that I don't have any sort of blinds or curtains so if one of my neighbors looks up at the wrong moment, they could get an eyeful...

I would like to chronicle two of my achievements in the past few days:

1. I drove a U-Haul all by myself. Having driven nothing bigger than a mid-sized SUV a few times in my life, this was a big deal. And driving in LA is a beeyotch no matter what you drive, so in a ramshackle behemouth like a U-Haul, 15 miles deserves an internet high five. This was also the first time I moved without the help of my parents so it was very much a milestone in adulthood.

2. I rode the Los Angeles Metro for the first time last night. Also by myself. I've ridden subways, metros, and trams all over Europe, Australia, New York, and San Francisco. But the idea of an underground railroad in LA just seems preposterous. But I got complimentary tickets to go see Beauty and the Beast at the Pantages Theater last night, thanks to the Bean, and parking in Hollywood is a very expensive, time-constricting near impossibility. Even though the train was late and I just barely made the 7:30pm curtain, it was awesome that I spent 3 bucks as opposed to 15-20 for 3 hours of valet only parking you have to wait in line for in and out. This is the secret to avoiding those bad parking situations I loathe so much. SCORE.

Beauty and the Beast was pretty sweet. A little over the top cartoonish, but that's kind of the point I guess. Great for kids. When Belle came out in the giant gold dress that is every little girl's fantasy (minus the hairy hunchback dude with the tail), my inner child started jumping up and down in the seat. And I won't lie, a little tear rolled down my cheek at the very end when I heard that music that was so influential in my formative years. The theater geek in me noted that Belle's voice was all over the place pitch-wise, and Lumiere sounded more like Borat than a Frenchman. But Gaston and Lefou were a treat. A very violent, heavily slapstick-laden treat.

Ok, gotta go...So many people yelling at me, so little time.