Gchat Realizations: Part 3

Who knew true love could be discovered over Gchat?

me: my brain is mush
Sent at 4:12 PM

Eric: my brain is tired

me: ugh...terrible

Eric: but my brain loves your brain

Sweet, Sweet Stunners

As you can see, these stunners not only look super hip, but they also made their way all the way to Hawaii and back—and they were even joined by a few hats. Besides the fact that I love these stunners, they are much better because they were free! Yes, it’s true, I am back in the good graces of my SOTM club…and they are wholly forgiven. Stun on!

S-S-Stunner

Sometimes I think I am really cool. When this happens, I usually take a picture of myself in the driver side mirror. In this case, I am also showing off my stunners, which obviously makes me cooler than usual.

Now I know that I've missed a few months of my stunner posts...but here's the thing: SOTM has been pissing me off. What happened you ask? Well, I got a pair of really ugly glasses called The Butterflies (trust me, they're NOT cool), then I got a pair of hideous glasses, then the next month, I got the SAME pair of hideous glasses! Anyway, I got mad and refused to wear them.

So, here I am now. Back to loving my stunners and living life. Thought I needed to share.

Peeing in the park

There are a few things that happen in San Francisco that would never happen anywhere else. I.E. naked bike rides, B2B (see previous post) and public peeing. Now, I know that public peeing happens in other cities as well because I have done it. (Ahem, PB Block Party 2006 and every 4th of July spent on the beach.) BUT my point here is that peeing in bushes in San Francisco is a conclusion I come to way quicker now—it’s not a last ditch effort to keep my clothes dry.

Case in point, a couple of weekends ago Eric and I were at Ocean Beach on Saturday and Dolores Park on Sunday. Although we were at two different places, we did basically the same thing for two days (hint: it involved a cooler and our campfire chairs), and it was fantastic. My point here, however, is that I’ve lost any sense of lady-like action at these public places. Here’s how it went down:

Saturday. At the beach. A few beers down the hatch and Eric goes to use the restroom. He comes back and I realize I also have to go.
My first response: “Do you think I could just sit on the sand and go?”
Eric: “Yeah, probably.”
Me: “I mean, I think the water is too cold.”
** Really Macie? Cause the water is too cold? I have an idea, why don’t you try walking to the public restroom like everyone else!

Sunday. At the park. Eric and I both have to go to the restroom. As we walk toward the public restroom, we see a really long line for both men’s and women’s.
Eric: “I think there are some spots to pee over here” (as he gestures away from the public restroom)
Me: “Really? Let’s go.”
(We find a place, and I go as Eric guards me from any onlookers)
Random girl: “I have to pee, can you excuse me?”
Eric: “My girlfriend is down there right now, hang on.”
Random girl: “Awesome.”
(I come up the hill)
Random girl: “high-five!”
**Again…really? I’m really not sure what this means about me, but I think I do need to cut down on peeing in public.

Official Residents

Well, after more than 2 technical years of living in San Francisco (move-in date March 2008), I am officially claiming that Eric and I live here. The reason: we intentionally attended Bay to Breakers.

The first month of May we were here, we had to take a trip to SoCal the weekend of B2B, and last year, we went, but did a very half-ass job of attending (aka we didn't wear costumes, bought beer when we got downtown and spent most of the time in our friend's apartment). This year, however, not only did we go to B2B, but our friends came to visit and made it a great B2B weekend.

The e-mail that got them here:

From: Macie
To: Tim, Jessika, B, Ashley, Jessica


Here's the deal. Eric and I live in San Francisco and every year Bay to Breakers is in San Francisco. A match made in heaven? I think so. This year, the race is on May 16 (which is a Sunday), and the day before is Oyster Fest. The bottom line is that you should all be in SF that weekend so that we can get completely shitfaced and you can stay at our house.

Ok - love you guys! Make it happen.

Surprised that worked? Me too.

Anyway, they made it here, and we had a great time. The funny thing is that now that I have participated in the walk across the city where all you do is drink and dodge people that drank more than you, I really have no desire to do it again. (disclaimer: that does not mean that I will not do it again.)

It started out with a huge lack of planning. It was the morning of the race and as the crew at my house were getting ready and showering, I was writing with Sharpie on their shirts. We were deciding on words up until the last second - we were refrigerator word magnets, of the dirty kind - and we had drank most of the beer that was supposed to be saved for the day. So, we loaded up a couple of backpacks and started walking to BART. Because we realized we probably wouldn't eat all day, we made a quick stop in McDonald's (I know, it's disgusting....but it was necessary) and finally made it to the train.

We got on, got downtown and proceeded to find the friends who had been waiting for us for now 30 minutes. As we went to find them, Eric and I argued over the route we were going to take to get there and Eric said "It's just so much walking!" to which I felt the need to snap "Do you really think this extra block matters? You know that Bay to Breakers is a walk across the entire city, right?!"

Jessica and Brian loved this, I'm sure.

We made up, moved on and found our friends. We all cracked open beers, loaded up coozies and began the walk. From this point on, it was really awesome. We joined in on the crazy and got really far until it got really scary. We started up Haight hill and someone started throwing a huge ball made of rubber up in the air - this meant we all started playing the oh-shit-if-that-lands-on-my-head-I-am-going-to-die game, which is almost never fun. We dodged the ball and headed uphill (still having fun) and then it all went down hill - quite literally. As we were headed down by Alamo Square, a float with tequila drinking pirates lost control of its brakes and came screaming down the hill. It turned into a drunken fear for your life (once again) and we all broke free running in different directions.

Once safe, we laughed about the looks on the pirates' faces....and decided that floats were a really bad idea for a bunch of drunk people. After that, B2B was a lot of fun. We stopped at the Panhandle, enjoyed the park, got more beer, danced on a public statue, saw a woman with HUGE boobs and no shirt on, peed in bushes, made sentences with our shirts, traded just-found cigarettes for shots of tequila, ate food and finally made our way back home.

Below are the chronicles of our day...

Gchat Realizations: Part Deux

So, here's the deal. I am now fully confident in the fact that I was meant to be a writer. There have absolutely been shaky days where that fact was unclear. But, now, in my many years of experience (so sure), I can say that I was meant to be a writer and there is absolutely no turning back. There is obviously more than one reason that this is true, but I have recently discovered one that I find really hilarious.

And that is that I love, nay LOVE, punctuation and the ability to make words mean things through formatting. For example, in gchat, I never knew how to do anything except for type and capitalize words. Now, as fun as that can be -yelling via gchat - I still felt like something was missing. Oftentimes I've found myself wishing I could convey my sarcasm or humor through the glorious world of italics...but alas, I did not know how. Well, my friends, those days are over.

And herein lies the gchat where Eric showed me the world of bolds, strikethroughs and italics.

3:13 PM
Eric: sigh
so this how you bold
just found out
*
word
*

me: how do you bold??

Eric: *
word
*

me: damn

Eric: ha

me: wow!!!!

Eric: now i am happy

me: awesome
that's insane!
do you know how to ital?

Eric: i wonder how you use italics

3:15 PM
me: hahahaha
same time

Eric: /ha/
thats not it

me: ahahah

Eric: yo
ha, found the strikethrough

me: how'd you do that?

Eric: !

me: !

Eric: -
word
-
+hello+

me: yup

Eric: thats nothing

me: ahahah

Eric: got it
_
word
_

me: awesome
not it
awesome

3:18 PM
Eric: ha
this will blow your mind

me: no this will

3:19 PM Eric: how about this
oh snap

3:20 PM me: whoa!!

Eric: greatest. gchat. convo. ever.

me: ever!

The Ring

So, after years of wanting to be someone's fiancé (and most recently wanting to be someone in particular's fiancé), I really am. Still really new and equally really amazing, being engaged is definitely all it's cracked up to be. Without going into too much mushy, gushy love stuff, there are a few other incredible things I've learned with a new and absolutely beautiful ring on my finger - the biggest of which is the fact that my hand, and the rest of my body for that matter, have been trying for almost 2 weeks to catch up.

Let me explain: Since I got this ring, everything else I have seems way less cool. And until I get balanced again and off of this cloud, there are a few things I've been doing that were not part of my daily routine. And as unfortunate as the below may seem, this is all absolutely true...no shame, right?

• I have shaved my legs nearly every day (if you know me, this is a huge accomplishment)
• I don't wear any of my other rings
• I have painted my nails, with top coat
• I check every outfit against my ring
• I showered on a Sunday (a serious sin in my world)
• I have been waking up in the middle of the night to check to see if the ring is still there

Even though it may seem crazy, I think this particular obsession is quite healthy - because, honestly, this is what I think love is.

Craigslist: best friend or worst enemy?

You know, I always thought that Craigslist and I were cool. That is, until today. You know, we've had our mishaps - bad roommates, the occasional scam, misleading apartment photos, but we've also shared a lot of great things - the hilarious arch nemesis ad, the free things section, and, who can forget about the missed connections postings...

But today, Craigslist showed me its evil side. And Craig himself led me to one of the worst feelings that I've ever felt. Because, really, what is worse than seeing your own job, that you are currently at, emailed to you via Craigslist post? My inbox instantly became my worst enemy when I saw that email come through. "So and so has forwarded you this craigslist.org posting, Associate Editor (San Francisco Bay Area)..."

Yeah, I guess so and so was right. I would be perfect for that job.

Gchat Realizations: Part 1

If you are anything like me, first, you can consider yourself lucky. And second, you can be sure that you g-chat at work. For those of you who don't know about g-chat (ahem, mom and dad), I will enlighten you. G-chat is a tool within Google E-mail (aka Gmail) wherein you can chat instantly a la AOL with your fellow Gmail users and friends. It is not only a place to connect, but with my friends it also seems to be a place where wit and whimsy run a muck.

I have often found that this magical place called g-chat is also a place where I learn a lot about myself. Case in point is in a chat I had yesterday with my friend Tim. It went something like this:

Tim: I found the coolest day drinking place this weekend
you'd LOVE it

2:39 PM
me: i already love it
Tim: floating bar on the Potomac, sort of Mexico feel, minus the 19yr olds
me: shut up!!!
Tim: amazing
me: sounds perfect
Tim: i met a girl there, was her suggestion
i'm stoked on it
me: i like her
Tim: ha she texted me...."i love daydrinking"

2:40 PM
Tim: what does it say about me that that is a turn on?
me: that is awesome
it's not weird - i am turned on by that
too
Tim: hahaha
nice

Because I absolutely love my friend Tim, as well as his new suggested day-drinking place, I love this conversation. I have also learned from this two things. 1. Tim still knows me really well (despite the many miles we live apart), and 2. that apparently, girls that like day-drinking are automatically on my "I like you" list. Good to know. Thanks, g-chat.

The wide open unknown

Sometimes I want to do things just so I can see what happens. I want to use the word "fuck" in inappropriate places and in serious/professional conversations just to see how people would react. I want to leave the stall open in public restrooms just to watch people feel uncomfortable. (And in that respect, I want to tell people in public restrooms that I think they are disgusting when they do obviously private things in public places.) I want to often treat people as if they were really close to me when I don't know them at all. I want to tell people I think they are lying. I want to leave work in the middle of the day. I want to go to the store in my pajamas. I want to not do my hair in the morning. I want to write obscene things in my work stories to see if anyone notices. I want to go on a week-long vacation and spend every penny in my savings account. I want to do a coordinated dance randomly in a club. I want to not use punctuation. And I want to buy a dog even though I know that it isn't really the best thing for me.

I mean, seriously. What is there to lose? The problem I keep running into, however, is that I don't want to lose anything.

Relationships

Aside from my relationship with my really great boyfriend, I have a lot of others. The one thing these “others” have in common is that none of them are with people. This is not to say that I don’t have other relationships with people—this is simply to say that this blog is not about those people relationships. (It’s also important to note that none of these inanimate object relationships make my relationship with my boyfriend suffer too badly.)

Although I have a relationships with many “non-real” things, I’ve narrowed them down to the most important…and they are the following: Eric’s car, my hair, my computer (actually both of my computers—work and home), my iPhone, 19th Avenue, my Fastrak pass and my Celine Dion CD. Because I am more than sure that I have piqued your interest, I will go ahead and explain how these relationships work.

Eric’s car: Eric’s car and I have a very distinct love-hate relationship. I love that it is available for me to use, and I hate that it’s not mine. I hate that it’s not mine because it puts a large amount of pressure on me when I almost get in car accidents, almost rear-end people, almost hit curbs, park on hills, parallel park, don’t park in appropriate parking spots, don’t pay meters but park in them anyway, almost spill things, and when I pull into and out of our garage every single day. I also hate that I feel no obligation to buy anything for the car. I do buy things, but I don’t like it. I feel this way when I buy gas or clean the windows—it’s extremely selfish, but I can’t help it.

My hair: Also a love-hate relationship. The good news is that for the most part I love my hair. (It was bound to happen since I did hate my hair growing up, as any curly-haired kid would.) But there are some mornings when I am getting ready and I just absolutely despise my hair. The mornings when no matter what I do, it just won’t sit how I want it to. And also the evenings when I want to go do something and make my hair look as good as it did in the morning–but, because my hair really won’t change from how it was in the morning, it makes me hate it. My hair is a one-shot deal, and if I don't get it right the first time, then oh well for me. I have yet to face this fact.

My computer:
a) Work: This relationship is actually pretty love, but at the fault of my home computer. My work computer gets the job done and does it pretty well. My work Internet sucks, but that’s not really the computer’s fault.

b) Home: Now this is what you call a dysfunctional relationship. My home computer used to be the love of my life, now I absolutely hate it. I hate it so much that I don’t even turn it on anymore—but I really don’t want to let it go. It’s now too old and slow that I can’t even turn it on without feeling tension in my back. It really makes me that angry. But the thought that I would have to back this computer up, get all my stuff off of it and get a new one to put it all on again is worse than not doing anything about it at all. So, it sits.

My iPhone: This is a love relationship without a doubt. I love my iPhone, I am completely addicted to it, and never want another phone, ever. This is also probably the biggest Eric relationship strain, as I do pay a lot of attention to my iPhone. I also love that on the movie “I Love You, Man”, Paul Rudd pronounces it as one word, like “ifun” trying to be funny.

19th Avenue: This is a hate. I hate 19th Avenue and I’m forced to drive it both ways every single day. Lately I’ve been driving through the city to get home just to avoid this road. It’s getting desperate. The worst thing about 19th Avenue is if you are in the middle lane. No one in the middle lane is in a hurry or knows how to drive. They are simply there to make my life miserable, I’m pretty sure of that.

My Fastrak: I looooove my Fastrak. It’s like free money. I often forget that it costs money to use. I literally cross the GGB every single day and I pay $5, but I don’t every feel like I am paying for this privilege—and therein lies the beauty that is Fastrak. Also, when I drive to the airport, I can use my Fastrak to “not pay” for parking. It’s fantastic.

My Celine Dion CD: This is also a love-hate. Most of the time, I love my Celine CD, and sometimes the CD knows I love it even when I don’t. I swear there are very few things that can cheer me up at 7 a.m., but this CD is one of them. I will literally be driving to work and singing at the top of my lungs before 7:30 a.m. and thinking that I have the best life in the world. Celine is really some sort of magician—she makes me forget everything bad, and instead has me singing like I am winning American Idol. The one thing I hate about this CD is that I don’t love all the songs equally, there are actually some that I hate. And I get very angry when these songs come on just as loud as the other songs…they really don’t deserve the same volume.

Things I've found funny lately

A sign at a hotel I was at recently explained its alarm as the following:
Looks like: FLASHING LIGHTS
Sounds like: WHOOP

A dog was actually a lot quicker than an old lady (and therefore successfully kept its tennis ball)

Google filled in my search "Funny things" with "...to do in Wal Mart"

Someone accused me of already preemptively being kicked out of CityCenter in Las Vegas

I had to look up how to spell the word "preemptively"

I will be returning to the club I got kicked out of in Las Vegas for a professional function

In a bar conversation, the person next to me mis-heard the word "butt holes" as "buckles" (in this person's defense, I now know why the conversation must have been so damn confusing)

Eric and I have decided to go on a three-month plan before we get a dog

In regards to the three-month plan, we don't want to do more than we planned - and when suggested that we do, we both laughed

Life as a grown up

Sometimes it's truly hard to be a grown up. (Like when the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays came and went and I missed two family parties to be with my boyfriend and his family – you know, grown ups are supportive in their relationships). But sometimes (like last weekend), being a grown up is so much damn fun. I will tell you, before the following shenanigans begin, that I am very proud of myself for being this so-called grown up.

So, because I missed my family so much over the holidays I decided to take matters into my own hands – and invite them all over for a post-holiday, sorry-I-missed-you get together. I would have had everyone over, however, my apartment and I (after a long talk and look around) decided it best to keep the group at 20 or so – for multiple reasons.

This past Saturday, just as planned, my mom, dad, 2 brothers, Boston, my grandma and grandpa, my uncle, aunt, 3 cousins, 3 babies and one great friend all made the trek to Plymouth Avenue to be with Eric and I for our very first self-hosted Family Fiesta. When they arrived, the place was decorated, catered food was prepared for us to pick up and the tequila was ready to flow. (Granted, some non-grown-up things happened – such as having to run to the store for chips, macaroni and cheese and orange juice for my nephew, and for more beer – but hey, these things happen).

And after hours of chatting, eating food, karaoke and the night capper of charades, it was official: Eric and I had successfully hosted our first party. (Well, our first party that didn’t end in puke and bad decisions…) And, to make the grown up meter reach the very tippy top, we also cleaned up and rearranged our house (and did the dishes!) after everyone left and before we went to bed. And although the clean-up was done with drinks in hand and the occasional turning up of the radio to dance the Macarena – we were still very proud of ourselves.

Hopefully I won’t miss out on family functions for the holidays every year, but if I do, I’ll be sure to remedy it with a fiesta of my own.

I’m back!

And, honestly, looking better than ever. Although last month my stunners disappointed me, this month made a major comeback for my monthly subscription. Here, Eric and I are in the drive thru for In-N-Out…and I am stunnin’ like you wouldn’t believe.

Since then, my stunners have been with me everywhere: a trip to SoCal that included Huntington Beach and Disneyland, up to the parent’s house in Santa Rosa and at a few work events as well. Bottom line: these are rad.