scene of the crime

Last night I was on a hot date - riding bikes to the greatest wine bar to enjoy wine (duh) and live music.  The weather was great - warm for a January night and I was enjoying the ride through the neighborhood.  Along the way we came to an intersection and there was some confusion between us and the car coming.  Needless to say I ended up on the ground, luckily not because of the car; but unfortunately because of the other bike.  I got taken out!  I picked myself up quickly to get out of the intersection and evaluate my situation.  I collected my purse that I yard-saled and gave myself a once over.  My left breast was black from skidding across the asphalt, my right palm was missing a couple layers of skin, and my left arm was unmovable.  My legs were trembling partly from shock and partly from embarrassment.  What started as a couple of bikers and a car at a quiet neighborhood stop sign turned into a shenanigans of four cars and eight bikers all asking if I was alright.  Where did everyone come from and why was now the opportune time?  I quickly answered everyone and within seconds it was once again empty.  Once I realized I still had most of my wits about me, I started giggling.  The whole scenario was hilarious to me.  I saw the erupted wine and remaining red cup in the middle of the street and felt I needed to document the incident - as seen above.  

Photo snapped, we proceeded to the wine bar, me one-handed, and had a fantastic time.  This morning went for the X-rays and conclusion: fractured elbow.  Good thing I've got two.  The weirdest thing about it is having this limp dangly appendage just hanging out, as it's not useful in any sense.  It kind of makes me think of an enlarged skin tag just there not really doing anything, but very noticeable and painful.  I feel like I went to battle and I lost my arm by land mine.  Thank goodness this is not the case and I will be up and running, er, punching in no time.  P.S.  Typing with one hand is a lot harder than you think. It took me about five times longer than normal to write this and a million spelling errors to correct.  Going over to a friends house tonight after I pop a couple vicodin.  Maybe I'll skateboard since it's a little difficult to ride a bike right now.

obviously...

It's been a while since I've last blogged.  Work's been crazy busy and my brain is pretty much fried - just like those commercials from the early 90's with the frying pan, fried egg, "this is your brain on drugs" slogan.  Is work a drug?...'cuz if so I should be in the hospital for OD-ing, followed by a stint at Rehab.  I'm thinking I can get all 12 steps figured out in about 30 days - sign me up!  

Anyway, I saw this sign yesterday on my way into work.  Note: photo has been altered only to make the sign more legible.  First thought...how have I never noticed this sign before?  Then, Ummm...What?!  I thought my eyes were deceiving me, like I said - my brain is fried.  What's so ironic about the sign is that when you are reading it you are clearly staring directly at the ocean.  If you continue straight you will hit the beach.  So why's the arrow pointing the other way?  Is that just a REALLY big lake back there? 

Friday Shocker

I got onto the freeway early this morning - I had to be at work early to handle some business - and I will tell you a Friday morning at 6:40 am is nothing like a Friday morning at 7:30 am.  My drive began with a Prius honking at me approximately 2.5 seconds after the green arrow lit up to turn left.  My natural reaction was to put up my left index finger and said "Easy"; however I think she thought I flipped her off because she felt the need to pull up next to me about 4 blocks later and give me the most foul look.  And I don't refer to it as foul because it hurt my feelings, but her face was contorted in such a way that she almost looked like half of her face was paralyzed.  Why do people do things like this?  I understand her meaning was to give me a dirty look, or something; but instead it made me laugh because it just made her look ugly.  Lucky me that she didn't try to run me off the road.  I then made my way to the freeway where there was little traffic and cars were not driving to their full speed capacity, which always irritates me.  I decide I'm not going to worry about it and start jamming to my ipod.  Halfway to my office I spot the most atrocious lime green sticker on the back of a little black hatchback.  At first I thought it was the "SuperFinger" in honor of Dane Cook, which I thought was just lame all around; however as I approached the car it was none other than THE SHOCKER.  I could not contain my laughter.  Who puts that on their car?  I had to get a picture - seen above, sorry about being a little out of focus, I was trying to capture the essence with out rear-ending him.  Once I snapped the pic, I had to see the person that thought this sticker was a good idea.  It was none other than a round, nerdy - looking little man.  I am familiar with the glory of the shocker, but I just can not understand the thought process behind putting it on the rear view window of your car, let alone an enlarged version...and why lime green?  Is this the mating call for all those that enjoy the shocker?  If so, I am going to need to stay away from that parade after seeing the Grand Marshal... 

Banking with a purpose...literally

Last nite I had a plethora of errands to run after work with the urgency of getting home to go for a run.  My first stop was to get my car smog checked.  I'm not really sure why, as it is only a 2002 - apparently I am at risk?  I guess Mercedes didn't have their act together that year.  Anyway, I passed (phew!) with flying colors of course and fifty some dollars later.  Next, off to the bank for my rent check.  My property management company only accepts cashier's checks or direct withdrawal from your account (big no no in my book).  I don't live in section 8 housing, as far as I know, but somebody does and I have to be inconvenienced by it.  Regardless, I am at the bank waiting in line hoping not to get the teller that always talks my ear off (I think he thinks it's flirting), but sure enough I get him.  I give him my account number and tell him what I need.  We go through the normal banking banter, he asks if there's anything else I need.  I say no and anticipate him leaving to print out the cashier's check.  Not so lucky.  He asks me if I went to a wedding recently...um, excuse me?  I respond No, should I have?  (I'm a little sassy).  My face begins to blush and get hot and that's not from embarrassment from him being able to see into my bank account.  He points to the henna on my hand that I had done over the weekend.  I explained that I got it done at my eyebrow place, which is Indian; but that I am familiar with the traditional custom of Indian brides getting henna done.  He ends up half arguing with me about the traditional practice and that it is not just brides, but usually there is someone at the reception doing it for guests.  I guess he's been to plenty of Indian weddings - he's got at least one up on my zero so I agree and  hope to get things moving along.  He then asks if the place I get my eyebrows done is Ziba's - why yes, it is...is this important in my banking transaction?  I felt like we were playing 20 questions and I would only get my coveted cashier's check if I answered all of them correctly.  He asks again if there is anything else he can do for me...um, nope, still good, just waiting for that check.  Finally, he says the magic words - Let me go get that check for you.  Thanks!  While I stood there waiting I realized the teller next to me had helped at least two other people in the time I had spent with my teller.  Oh, wait, here comes the check...yippee, I am out of here.  He comes back and tries logging into his computer, typing a series of letters and numbers about 4 times before telling me he can't remember his password.  He told me he likes to play around with it and change it a lot - apparently so much that he can't remember which one is the one of the day.  I try to politely smile and take some pressure off him.  He was getting nervous and fidgety and making too many excuses.  I know I am a cute girl, but come on man, get yourself together - I'm not THAT cute.  He grabs a slip of paper from his receipt machine and a pen and tells me he will be back.  He proceeds to one of the desks towards the back and gets on the phone.  Eventually he comes back, types in what must be the cryptic password and runs back to the phone to let them know he's made it in.  At last, I get my check; but not without another inquisition to whether I need anything else (I think we are on number 5 at this point).  He thanks me for my patience, which I respond with a smile and "It happens" and am on my way.  Next month I think I'll wear a disguise with absolutely no sign of any type of flair and if he tries talking to me, I'm going to write on a piece of paper that I have laryngitis.  This is exactly why I bank online.

THE new year

I am back from my little hiatus (or vacation, if you will).  It was quite enjoyable having a week of waking up at 9 am, reading in bed for a few hours or lounging around while deciding what to do with my day, then easing into it and usually not making it to bed until after 3am; but I will say it's nice to be back at work.  I love staying home and doing things on my own time, but I need the structure and discipline.  Which leads to me to my first topic of the year - 

The New Year's Resolution.....

My first day back at the office and EVERYBODY is on their "New Diet Plan".  I just keep saying "Of course you are".  Choosing to start anew because of  "The New Year" is great in theory, but come on...we all know that one's going to last about 3 weeks.  If you haven't had the motivation to do it and stick to it any other month, why is January 2009 going to be so special?  

I especially love the fact that one of my co-workers brought a box of donuts to the office today - the one day that everyone is trying their hardest to maintain composure and keep the willpower up.  I am definitely going to get into them - maybe about 3 pm, when my sugar level is low and I am going to enjoy the hell out of it.  Don't get me wrong I'm doing my own crack-down, but I started it before the "New Year" and mine is not for the new year, per say, nor an absolutism.  I am just trying to be more aware of my health - mental, physical, and emotional.  

My vacation left me plenty of time to think about where I am in life - it can be quiet living by yourself.  I've made some decisions to start projects that I have been talking about for years, but haven't found the time to do.  Finally, I am at a point where I am just going to have to make time...no matter what.  The list is below (not necessarily in the order to be started or completed)....2009 is going to be busy.  I can't wait!

1. begin writing my memoirs - too many funny stories that need to get on paper

2. do more creative activities - going to start with an art class of some type

3. read at least 3 books a month - already gotten a great start

4. further myself scholastically - can't wait to start learning new things

5. spend at least an hour a day doing absolutely nothing and contemplating where I am for the day within the spectrum of my life - most likely will be in the bath, my favorite place to sit and think