Megsie

Today, I went to Redondo Beach, a rocky beach on the Puget Sound. These rocks, from a distance, looked like they would be a lovely place to sit and stare out at the water, but when I got closer I discovered that they were covered in barnacles and seaweed, which was far more delightful. The barnacles fascinated me – they hissed and gurgled and moved when I touched them.

I am happy to say that I spent nearly thirty minutes harrassing barnacles today.

The past three weekends have been shockingly busy for me, so this blog will be ridiculously long. Here are some highlights, arranged numerically for my convenience (I’ve clearly been working too long as an admin assistant – I already have to format everything):

Weekend of the 3rd – 5th:

Friday –

1. I went to Portland to see my friend Josh.

2. We rode the train (first train I’ve ever been on), perused old books at Powells, ate ice cream, and drank beer (not simultaneously).

3. We also watched a scary TV show, and I cried (sorry, Josh). I’m a really fun guest.

Saturday -

1. I drove home from Portland.

2. I went to a concert in a park with my aunt, uncle and cousins. Some good blues bands played, and the fireworks were pretty. Unfortunately, we were sitting next to some extraordinarily idiotic people, of whom the only remotely tolerable member of the group was the retarded girl who plugged her ears and yelled at the bands at random intervals. (See points three, five, and six here).

Sunday -

1. I have no idea what happened this day. I probably cried.

Weekend of the 10th – 13th:

Friday –

1. Karissa, my indomitable best friend came into town.

2. I had literally no money whatsoever (due to a paycheck fiasco involving my former employer) so Karissa had to pay for parking so that we could leave the airport. I’m a terrible friend.

Saturday –

1. We went to the bank to cash my paycheck, and the tellers acted like it was a HUGE inconvenience for them to cash a check that one of their customers had written. I refused to sympathise with their desperate and terrible plight. Imagine, having to do your job! Oh, the humanity!

2. After eating a massive breakfast (we each only ate half of what we ordered), we headed to Pike’s Place Market.

3. We didn’t get lost, thanks to Karissa’s superb navigation skills, and my superb driving skills.

4. I did, however, almost destroy my car’s transmission when we were forced to stop and start again while going up an absurdly steep street. I don’t actually know if the horrible grinding noise my car made was the transmission, but that’s what I imagine an angry transmission would sound like.

5. We were hit on by a homeless man who said “Hey, girls” in a creepy, syrupy-sweet, voice while we walked past him while we were headed to the car to drop off some stuff. On the way back to the market we passed him again, and he said “Hey, girls” in EXACTLY the same tone. So creepy.

6. Some random guy informed us that smoking causes cancer and would kill us. I reminded him that everyone dies at some point. He mumbled something that was probably obscene and walked away. In retrospect, I wish I would have exclaimed “NO, REALLY?!” in utter shock.

7. We walked from Pike’s Place Market to the Seattle Center, which is over a mile-long walk. Not bad, unless you are like me and choose to wear ballet-style flats instead of walking shoes. After we got to the Seattle Center, we discovered that we could have taken the monorail.

8. I’m already bored of writing this, so I’m going to assume you’re tired of reading it. Here is the next few hours in one sentence: We rode the monorail back to the mall, went shopping and had dinner at PF Chang’s.

9. Oh, but I cannot forget to tell you about The Great Bathroom Fiasco of ’09 (or, “Why Tukwila, WA, Should Be Destroyed in a Nuclear Holocaust”): Karissa may be angry if I tell this story, but she is in Boise and I am not, so tough beans.

Just as we were leaving downtown Seattle, Karissa announced that she had to pee. As in, RIGHT NOW. I, being the loving and sympathetic friend that I am, refused to stop anywhere until we had safely exited the downtown region and navigated to the freeway. “We can stop in Tukwila,” I said, “it’s very close”. Karissa, being a good friend, agreed. She was miserable. I laughed. Not in a mean way, more in a “this is ridiculous and hilarious” way. My laughter did not help. By the time we exited at Tukwila, we were in Code Red. I pulled over at the nearest gas station, and Karissa went inside. I stayed out in the car, because a few minutes earlier I had taken off my strapless bra (which had become uncomfortable) and thus I was feeling somewhat self-conscious (ABOUT MY NIPPLES, DUH). To add to my discomfort, there was a group of young men milling about a few feet from my car who kept waving at me and gesturing for me to join them. Uh, no, sorry boys. My nipples and I are just fine where we are, thanks.

When Karissa emerged from the gas station, she informed me that someone had locked the keys in the bathroom, so she couldn’t get in, but the attendant had said there was a gas station “just down the street”. So, we started driving. And driving. And driving. Turns out, the gas station dude was correct, and there IS a gas station “just down the steet,” if you interpret “just down the street” as FIVE MILES AWAY. When we finally found a gas station, its restroom was for employees only. I, again, waited in the car (I really am a terrible friend), and watched Karissa gesticulate frantically while she tried to convince the attendant to let her use the restroom. Thankfully, they consented, and a crisis was averted. Everyone was happy (or befuddled, in the case of the gas station employees), and we vowed to never go to Tukwila again.

Sunday –

1. We went shopping at Trader Joe’s, and went to my Aunt and Uncle’s house for dinner. A fun, lazy day.

Monday –

1. I went to work, but left early to have dinner with Karissa before taking her to the airport. I must admit, I really enjoyed coming home to someone who made me dinner. I think I need a wifey.

Weekend of the 17th – 19th:

Friday –

1. I woke up at five am to the sound of my uncle knocking on my apartment door. My uncle, who had kindly offered to take me to the airport that morning, had to wait about twenty minutes while I packed. In my defense, I managed to get ready to go and completely packed in under 25 minutes. I was impressed with myself. I only forgot a few things, like my strapless bra (which is still in the back seat of my car where I had thrown it the weekend before) and my friend’s wedding gift.

2. I arrived in Boise at 9:30am, and spent the morning and early afternoon with my mother at her Iraqi friend’s house. They are an incredibly sweet family, and fed me a lot. Really, a LOT. After I had eaten several platefuls of excellent food, they still kept trying to get me to eat more. I really don’t think eating oneself to death would be a too-tragic fate.

3. In the evening, my eldest brother Daniel (Elder Barry, as Julie calls him) and I went to the rehearsal dinner for my best friend Quinn (yes, I have multiple best friends. Three, to be precise: Karissa, Quinn, and Aimee) where we consumed MORE food.

4. After the rehearsal dinner, the girls went downtown to Old Chicago for drinks (well, Aimee didn’t drink because she is still a registered fetus. Also, she doesn’t really like alcohol anyway).

5. I forgot to mention that I decided to wear heels that day, and ended up doing much more walking than I had originally anticipated. By the evening, when we were walking the four or five blocks to Old Chicago, I was in so much pain that I contemplated sawing off my feet at the ankles so I wouldn’t have to walk any further. I’m pretty sure that if I was ever captured by hostile forces and tortured I would just laugh at them: HAHA! Your futile methods may work on MEN, but I am WOMAN! I wear torture devices on my feet of my own free will! Once a month, my uterus tries to destroy me! I have constant migraines! I tear the hair off of my body using hot wax (okay, I only did that once, and it hurt so much I had to stop)! You have NOTHING on me! (Women who have actually given birth, feel free to add that to the catalogue of womanly strength).

6. I did not get drunk. Yes, that is noteworthy.

Saturday –

1. Wedding day! Because I had neglected to bring my strapless bra, I had thrown a corset into my bag, figuring that it would accomplish the same task. I was not sure if I would have anyone to help me put it on when I later tried to get into my dress, so I decided to put it on myself. Let me say one thing: wearing corsets? Sexy. Putting on corsets, particularly by oneself? Not so pretty.

2. Went to breakfast with my brothers, Elder Barry and Schneitzel-face and Schneitzel’s lovely bride, Hilary.

3. Went to the rehearsal for Karissa’s play since I will be missing the show in August. So far, it looks excellent, albeit occasionally unintentionally hilarious.

4. Journeyed to (I am tired of typing “went to”) Karissa’s abode where she helped me get ready for the wedding, including tightening my corset so much I couldn’t breathe even if I wanted to and convinced me to wear a ballgown-style skirt with the corset, instead of the less formal dress I was planning on wearing. It didn’t take much convincing. (So far, Karissa scores as best wife and handmaiden ever – she even did a bit of sewing to repair my skirt! Again, Karissa is a good friend, me, not so much).

5. Karissa drove me to Quinn’s wedding where I was, suffice to say, the most buxom creature there.

6. The bride was gorgeous in a wine-red dress that she and her talented sister Mandi (200books.com) made themselves. (Follow the link to see pictures of the pretty lady)

7. The wedding was HOT HOT HOT. I think poor Quinn got a bit over-heated.

8. After the bride and groom departed, I became rather melancholy, which always happens to me at weddings. Then I got drunk on some fantastic home-brew, and my mood improved immensely.

Sunday

1. Aimee and I went to lunch at the Pie Hole downtown. They burned our pizza, and it was still fantastic. I love that place. Aimee and I go there almost whenever we go out, which obviously isn’t very often anymore.

2. We then went to the park, where Aimee and I hung out for an hour or so while I waited for my family and the Iraqi family I mentioned earlier to arrive.

3. I spent the rest of the day eating picnic food, playing badminton, crying, playing poker, crying, and lying on the grass. Then I went to the airport and had to wait an extra hour for my flight.

4. On the flight home, the people behind me were obscenely drunk and loud. In case of crash and we had found ourselves in a Donner Party-like situation, I would have gladly voted to eat them first. Alcohol may not be the best marinade, but goddammit, at least being cannibalised would shut them up.

5. I arrived home to find my kitten fat and happy to see me. I figured that he would be very angry with me for leaving for so long, but he was very cuddly.

The End!

As of last Thursday I have a New and Improved Job, Version 2.0. My previous job was as a barista — although, I never did make any coffee. When I was offered the New and Improved Job, I felt rather badly about quitting, that is until the owner peevishly told me that she had “turned down” someone else for the position and would now have to find someone else, as if it were ALL MY FAULT. Yes, lady, I recognise that it is a hassle for you, but there has not been a BETTER time in the past several decades to be an employer than now! You can hire a college graduate to take out your trash for you, and they’ll just be happy that they actually HAVE A JOB! DON’T WHINE AT ME LADY! I WILL BLOG ABOUT YOU! In yo’ face! [Insert gangstah hand gestures].

My New and Improved Job is as an administrative assistant, which basically means that I am a secretary (well, maybe pre-sexual revolution I would be a secretary: now I think the term is considered sexist. Mostly thanks to Maggie Gyllenhaal). This job is not nearly as glamorous as movies have made it… nor as licentious as pornography would lead one to believe. I answer phones, print off papers, staple stacks of papers, sort papers, un-staple other stacks of papers, sort them, and then re-staple them. I also order things for the company, wait for the things to arrive, and then put them away. It’s all about as exciting as I’m sure it was for you to read about it. That said, I LOVE MY JOB! No, really! For the first time in my life, I’m actually making enough money to not only stop going into greater debt, but to actually start getting out of debt. As a result of this cheery news, I now spend much of my day in a giddy haze of happiness. (Admittedly this mental state is mostly due to sleep deprivation and hunger, and compounded by a nicotine buzz, but I enjoy it nonetheless).

I have spent my entire life floating barely above poverty, and I am so ready to finally start rising above it. I recognise that I have always been very lucky to never have to go hungry or homeless, but that being said, I doubt very many people can relate to the level of psychological trauma of being raised by a fundamentalist Christian father who CHOSE to live off of other’s charity and then complains endlessly of financial woes, who believes that being in debt is a sin against Almighty God, and who repeatedly placed the well-being of the entire family on the behaviour of his children (as in, “if you don’t obey me, I will lose my job [as a Christian minister], and the family will starve”). Thanks, Dad, for helping me to become a functional adult!

(Feel free to psychoanalyse the previous paragraph. I’m sure it will do you good.)

On to my previous weekend adventures: On Saturday, my cousin Jacob got his Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do. This is an awesome accomplishment at any age, but particularly at 13 years old, so everyone is quite proud of him. I was able to see the first half of his test on Friday night, but missed the second half on Saturday morning due to sleeping in too late. I’m blaming my cat for that one: Earnest ran away late on Friday evening, and I spent several worried hours looking for him before giving up and just waiting until he came home at 1am. On Sunday, my cousin Kyle and our friend Emilee went to the gay pride parade in downtown Seattle. It was quite marvelous! Despite the abundance of naked people and drag queens, there was only one thing I was truly surprised by: the number of churches that marched in the parade. I was shocked. I would estimate that about a sixth of the marchers were affiliated with a local church. They carried signs proclaiming God’s love and acceptance with slogans like “For God So Loved THE WORLD,” “Straight, But Not Narrow,” “I Support My Gay Son/Daughter/Bishop” and (my personal favourite) “Jesus Had Two Daddies”. I doubt I’ll ever attend church regularly again, but it certainly warmed my heart to see this public expression of love and acceptance for gays.

I know I said only one thing shocked me, but there were a few other little things that surprised me. And by little, I do mean SMALL. DIMINUTIVE. TEENY WEENY. The naked bikers were… how shall I say this… disappointing? I will admit that I have a very limited experience with male anatomy, and by “limited,” I do mean that my experience mainly has to do with pornography and working on a horse breeding farm… oh, and My Ex, The Rapist. I suppose it is irrational to compare regular men to porn stars and stallions, BUT C’MON! REALLY? I’m sorry to say, I have lost all faith in mankind.

On that tragic and disturbing note, I’m off to bed. Tomorrow is another day at the New and Improved Job, Version 2.0