September to Remember

My mind is absolutely blown that is has been 2 full months since I left LA.  I am slowly adjusting to the changes in lifestyle: less driving, more weather considerations, decreased social life - but otherwise things are great.

I started the month of September with a visit to Providence and Boston.  Last year on the cruise portion (http://www.azamaracruises.com/) of our Greek/Turkish/Italian adventure, Tuck and I met Jill & Dave.  Turns our Jill is a psychotic Red Sox fan (so obviously she blends with a lot of my LA peeps). When I finally made the decision to move, I contacted Jill and promised that we would go to a Sox game at Fenway before the season was over.  We settled on Labor Day weekend and I booked my ticket to Providence, which is 45 minutes south (not north) of Boston. (side note: I also just learned that Delaware is east of Maryland, not up near New Hampshire.  I guess my west coast bias is presenting itself in my glaringly obvious lack of geographic knowledge)


 

Did you know where these states are?

Double bonus, my former roommate Amanda, also lives in Providence, so I called her up too.  We started the evening with a lovely seafood extravaganza at Hemenway's Restaurant (http://www.hemenwaysrestaurant.com/) while admiring the beautiful river views.  Thanks to my ladies in Supper Club, I have developed a mild obsession with oysters and fortunately Dave was up to the task to share some with me (to go along with his Jules Verne-esque sized lobster dinner). I had some paella, which is in the Portuguese style, not the traditional Spanish style (a little soupier, no crust burnt-ness).  The entire meal, including the company, was spectacular.



from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea




Jill, Me and Amanda

 










Saturday morning we headed out to Boston.  We started at the North End, which is an Italian area and went to Mike's Pastries, where I snarfed a chocolate dipped "Boston Cream" cream puff and Jill & Dave had some tasty looking canolis.  We then started walking and walking and walking.  I saw Boston Common. I saw Cheers. I saw Quincy Market.  I saw the fancy shopping district. I saw EVERYTHING.  Boston is beautiful.

Re-enactment at Quincy Market

We dropped Dave off at the metro and Jill and I headed the last mile to the ballpark. I had my awesome baseball fan moment.  I dragged Jill into the Cask N Flagon (http://www.casknflagon.com/) and had a Sam Adams beer (yes, I know I don't drink beer, but that's what you do in Boston).  We walked down Lansdowne Street and Yawkey Way.  I lost my mind when I saw the Citgo sign, and the we walked into the stadium.  Jill treated us to some AMAZING seats behind first base, and I almost died when I walked through the tunnel and saw the Green Monster for the first time.  Yes, I cried. 

Yawkey Way

Enjoying a beer with Jill



Outside the best bar in America

 After I managed to get myself in check, Jill and I went in search of sustanence, since all we had eaten that day was a pastry.  We bought 50/50 tickets from a vendor and he showed me his 2004 World Series Ring.  Then I loaded up on snacks.  Final consensus: Fenway Franks don't hold a candle to Dodger Dogs, but their pretzels are phenomenal.  To complete my baseball fan experience, I bought a program and kept score.  I told Jill I had a good feeling about the game and I was right: The Red Sox smoked the Rangers 12-7.

Even the vendors get real rings

Sweet Seats

Preztel Thumbs Up, Dog Thumbs Down

I had to leave early the next morning to make a couple of work events.  On the plus side, the Dodgers were in DC for a 4 game set against the Nationals, so I went with some new friends to the Labor Day game.  It was sooooooo freaking hot that day we couldnt even stay in our seats and ended up moving to a covered patio restaurant over left field.  In the 9th inning, I noticed that it cooled down dramatically (in like a 15 minute period of time), to which I was informed that this meant it was about to rain.  And rain it did...like apocalyptic rain.  20 minutes later we were outside at a beer garden playing a game I was calling "tossy-toss" which apparently called "Cornhole" (which I cannot say without laughing, so tossy-toss it shall stay) when the skies opened up. It was raining so furiously you'd think that Washington DC called Mother Nature fat or something.  The craziness lasted 10 minutes.  We went back to playing tossy-toss but a giant puddle formed in front of my board, and my friend Deanna is not a skilled tossy-toss player, so I ended up splashed like I was front row at the Shamu show.  Nonetheless it was a great time.



The running of the Presidents




(outside the Stadium w/Deanna)



Tossy-Toss (aka Cornhole)



Don't piss off Mother Nature



I went to my first USC game watching party at this bar/restaurant called BlackFinn (http://www.blackfinndc.com/) with my new buddy Steve (thanks to Beau Grabner for the friend referral).  There I realized that I am one of the oldest alums in town.  But, amazingly I ran into a guy who was a year ahead of me at USC who I used to work with at the bookstore for 3 years.  I remember him as a total stoner slacker...now he is an attorney with the Securities and Exchange Commission (http://www.sec.gov/) .  I laughed heartily at that one.

The following week, my mom came for a visit.  It was tough to juggle being a hostess along with being in Back to School mode for work, but miraculously, I did not kill her or end up arrested by the federal government, so we will call it a win.  Actually we had a good time.  Since I had started working immediately upon my arrival to DC, I hadnt played tourist yet, so I got to see some sites. Because mom did not heed my warning of only bringing comfy walking shoes, we had to make an emergency shoe shopping excusion (note: 3 inch wedges are not good for walking on 300 year old cobblestone streets).  I took mom to see Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, Korean, WW II, & Vietnam Memorial, Georgetown, The Capitol (we even sat in the House of Reps Gallery and got to see Dennis Kucinich (http://www.kucinich.house.gov/) speak on a bill in front of John Boehner (http://www.johnboehner.house.gov/)  - he got a standing ovation from people in the gallery), The Folger Shakespeare Library, The Supreme Court, The National Portrait Gallery and the Spy Museum.  Mom also went back to The Capitol and sat in on a Senate session while I was at a Law School Fair.  She even managed to take the metro back to my house without getting lost or mugged.  I also took mom to an SC game watching party, where she promptly practically married off my new friend Ashley who had brought a guy who she was on her first date with.

Korean War Memorial

WWII Monument w/The Washington Monument

Mom in front of the White House

My favorite contemporary art installation (see description at bottom)

The Constitution on 50 license plates (one for ea state)

The Famous Spiral Staicase in the Supreme Court

The Golden Spike from the Union Pacific Railroads

Me and Mom at the White House

A couple of days after mom left marked the official beginning of Practice Test season in DC.  That means big events every weekend from Sept 24th through Nov 6th.  The first event was at Howard University (http://www.howard.edu/) , where we encountered a power-crazed secruity guard who refused to let us into the auditorium we booked for our MCAT Practice Test.  We ended up having so many people show up that we had to split the MCATers into two rooms, which meant that yours truly had to lead an MCAT event.  It had been 15 years since I had taken Organic Chemistry and Physics, but I still managed to teach back a couple of problems from the test (thanks to an excellent teacher's guide and the google app on my phone).

Me and Meredith with Jack the Bulldog at Georgetown

What's on tap: October will bring 4 more practice tests, a free trip to LA to train my replacement, and a visit from a friend of mine when I lived in Dallas.  Tuck is taking me shopping for my winter wardrobe and there may be an official visit to the Pirate Bar down the street and possibly a drunken quest for waffles with Steve. I guess you'll just have to wait to find out.

I miss you all!!

Love,

Kerry

PS: My favorite art installation is called The Electronic Superhighway. The TV screens play images of what the artist felt each state represented.  Where Washington DC is, is a small handheld TV and a video camera that is recording the gallery and projecting the images on the handheld device.  It was super cool.  http://americanart.si.edu/education/rs/artwork/

Rain, Trains and Old Person Pains

I can hardly believe it has been a month since I left LA.  Time really flies as you get older.  It felt like the decision to actually move took forever.  Then I had an extended "Transitional period"  before I moved, but it feels like my departure was only days ago.  On the plus side, I guess my return to LA will be that much faster.

So what I have I been up to since I left SoCal...

I spent the first week and a half crashing with Tuck and her husband Tim at their house in Laurel, MD while my apartment was being readied.  Laurel is about an hour outside of DC.  I got experience my life as a non-car commuter, taking the MARC train, the metro and the bus (which is surprisingly nice) in to town. I wish I had a suit and fedora because I felt like I was in an episode of "Mad Men".  It's actually really easy to get around as all forms of transportation take a Smart Trip Card for payment (except taxis, but they are soooo much cheaper than in LA so it's not a big deal). I actually like the public transportation thing.  It allows for excellent people watching. Oddly though, despite its communal nature, people keep to themselves on the metro and buses.  Everyone reads or listens to iPods so there is very little talking (the one exception was when I was on the bus in Baltimore and got to listen to a couple nastily argue non-stop for 20 mins in hushed tones - it was funny and uncomfortable).

I moved in to my new place a few weeks ago and it has been amazing.  By a stroke of luck I got upgraded to a higher floor and an apartment with hardwood floors and a washer/dryer for no extra charge.   Thanks to the generosity of my company, I didn't have to do any of the labor involved in schlepping my furniture up to my 10th floor apartment.  The move was seamless as my OCD kicked in and I was unpacked by the end of the day and fully decorated by the next day.  The only problem I encountered was that I managed to get sick almost immediately upon my arrival to the east coast and stayed sick for almost 3 weeks.  I had finally started feeling better when I moved, and then my over-zealousness kicked me back to a full scale assault on my lungs.  I have felt good now for a week and it has been absolute bliss. it's amazing how we take for granted the ability to breathe unlabored.

My apartment is huge and the complex I live in is enormous.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDugrJ6tDjw Once again, I have a rooftop pool and since the building is 15 stories, it has a spectacular view.  Actually, I am on the 10th floor and I have floor to ceiling picture windows in the family room and bedroom.  The view is incomparable and I swear I can see more trees from the view from my family room than are in all of Los Angeles.  It is really, really green here.  I can't wait for the fall when the leaves turn colors (which if you are from LA like I am that is the only thing that east coasters can claim is better than LA). I imagine, my view will be even more beautiful.  I am even excited to see it blanketed in snow (although I am simultaneoulsy terrified).



view from my apartment

My apartment is conveniently located just a few blocks from downtown Silver Spring, which itself is 1/4 of a mile from the northern DC border.  As a matter of fact, 16th Street which is just a few blocks from my place will take you straight to the White House.  Downtown Silver Spring has a ton of restaurants and shopping including the AFI Theatre http://www.afi.com/silver/new/ which thanks to my lovely book club/supper club friends, I have been able to patronize.  It is super fancy and they show retrospectives as well as current high-brow movies. The metro is just down the street and there is a Pirate Bar, yes, I said Pirate Bar, down the street http://www.piratztavern.com/ .  Apparently they serve grog there.  I am waiting for my friend Sylvia to visit so I can check it out.  There is also a shoe repair, dry cleaners, spa/salon and a 7-11 in my building so I actually dont need to leave it much.

I'm at the north just off of the Red Line

Speaking of weather, it is weird that I actually have to pay attention to it for the first time in my life.  I made the mistake of not checking the weather for the first week and managed to get trapped in rain storms without proper shoes, jacket or umbrella.  Not that those would likely help anyway because it rains so furiously that the rain actually bounces off the ground and the wind blows so hard it blows sideways.  I think I will just need to bubble wrap myself. Now I keep an umbrella in my purse at all times. Even when it is 90 degrees outside.  All in all though the weather hasnt been that bad. Apparently the worst of it happened the week before my arrival.  Also, I think I mentally prepared myself for absolute misery, so even bad days don't seem that bad. It's like going into a movie with really low expectations and when it totally doesn't suck you say it is actually pretty good. Although we did have a Hurricane watch or warning, I really don't understand the difference yet, it was a lot of hype a no big deal at all.  It just rained for 12 hours. Unfortunately my floors started leaking.  Yes, I know, weird.  I had little puddles around my house.  Thankfully I have 24 hour maintenance, so they came immediately (at midnight) and wet vac'd, and then came again the in morning. No damage at all other than some wet towels.  Really grateful for that upgrade to hardwood floors.

hurricane damage to my floor and throw rug

Work is going very well.  My new team is cool. I have 2 employees, Christa & Meredith and while they are vastly different in personality, they compliment each other very well.  Christa is very hippie-bohemian and couldn't be nicer.  Meredith is more reserved and very dry and sarcastic.  They both laugh a lot, which make them an absolute pleasure to be around.  Back to school season (BTS) started last week, so I have been working like crazy.  It has been amazing to be on the beautiful campuses of these historic universities.  It's funny how they are all just a few miles apart, but the schools and their students have such vastly different personalities. The kids are George Mason and Howard seem far more open and friendly than those at George Washington and Georgetown, but of course that is just my initial assessment.

We have been tabling on the various campuses for the past several days and the standing on my feet for hours on end is taking its toll on me.  I went to take out the trash to the trash chute and managed to pull a muscle or pinch a nerve in my back.  I had to sleep on a heating pad for a couple of nights and just when it was not bothering me anymore, I reaggravated in when I was getting out of the shower.  Now it's even worse and I'm hunched over like an octagenarian.  I feel more ridiculous than anything else.

my team at George Mason

Since I have been working the whole time, it is has left little time for exploring.  I did make it to the Library of Congress and the Eastern Market and I walked by the Capitol.  Thanks to my friend Adam, I was introduced to his friend Deanna and her friend Ashley.  I have met up with them a couple of times, and even had cocktails at a bar on the patio facing the National Portrait Gallery.  I made a list of all of sites/musuems/attractions I want to see.  The list is long.  Good thing I live here now, otherwise I would never fit it all in. I finally got my car a week ago, and am starting to understand the geography of the city.  Traffic isn't too bad, although throw in a traffic circle in with rush hour and it gets a bit dicier.  I think I have done fairly well though.




inside the Library of Congress



the Capitol









 

So what's next for me... well Labor Day weekend I am headed to Providence and Boston to see some friends and go to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park.  I am beyond excited.  My mom is coming to visit mid-month for a week, and then I kick into high gear for Practice Test season.  Basically I am going to blink and it will be Thanksgiving and I will be back in LA (albeit briefly).

I miss everyone so much.  Please call, email, text, skype (kaplan.kerrywalters) . I would love to hear from you and catch up.  I promise I'll send email updates at least every month.  Subscribe to my blog and you will get a notification when I write. There are a ton of weirdos out here so I will have plenty to update you about ;)

All my love,

Kerry

Vig-Jew-Lante Justice

So last month I Netflixed (http://www.netflix.com/) the movie "Kick-Ass".  The premise is that this kid decides to make himself a super-hero and serve the greater good by protecting society from bad guys.  It was a cute movie and an idea that actually inspired regular citizens to take up the mantle of delivering homemeade justice to local evil-doers. Reading about it in the news made me smile.  I liked the idea of some Dungeons and Dragons LARPer (that's a real thing, look it up) designing his own Home-Ec style spandex dork-a-tard and cape costume and trying to save the day.  As much the concept was charming, it is most certainly insane.

Well, that is what I used to think.  Recently I moved into my own place in Miracle Mile(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracle_Mile,_Los_Angeles).  The apartment is retro and cute.  Very spacious. Quiet Building. Great Neighborhood. Plenty of Storage. Afforable Rent.  It is really a dream come true...except for the parking.  You see in my quest for roommate independence I had to make one small sacrifice.  I gave up my sweet underground parking in my old building for street parking.

I know it's not like I live in Minneapolis and have to shovel my PT Cruiser out of 3 feet of snow or in Phoenix where my hands would melt if I touched the steering wheel.  Instead, every night I get to play Sherlock Holmes searching for parking with a magnifying glass.  What is frustrating is that I have paid for a parking pass for my street, but so have 8000 other people in the apartment buildings that populate the 2 blocks of my street between 3rd and 6th.  I can park on 3rd or 6th (if there are spaces available) but then I'd have to move my car at 7am (anti-gridlock zone), which I have done many times in the 6 weeks that I have lived here, but then I spend time searching for parking during morning rush hour not to mention my walk of shame to and from my car in PJs, glasses and whatever mismatched footwear I manage to get on my feet.  Don't even get me started on the trials and tribulations of this Herculean task on street cleaning days.

Now, I have lived in Los Angeles for almost my entire life.  I am fiercely loyal when it comes to defending my hometown against nay-sayers who criticize my fair city and say that it is full of A-holes, the people are rude, the traffic is horrible, blah blah blah.  My response is "Well, if it sucks so bad, then just freaking leave. It's just one less kvetchy douche bag for me to worry about on the 405." That idea was definitely formed before I was forced to live and die by public parking.

You would figure that everyone else on my street would feel my same plight and try and be considerate about the lack of parking situation and try to maximize the number of spaces for people to utilize...uh, that would be a big fat negative, nein, nyet, nope.  Instead, the people on my street park worse than an 90-year old grandma trying to squueze a 1973 Lincoln Continental into a compact space at a mall. 

They park 5-feet from a driveway and only leave room for half a car to fit in between their bumper and a red zone. They park in the middle of a section of street so no car will fit on either side of their car between two driveways.  They will park 3-feet from a curb at an angle so even if there is room to park, you can't swing your car in without clipping theirs.  Believe me, it's not because I am some girly girl that can't parallel park.  I did event production for almost a decade. I can parallel park a 24-foot moving truck on the left hand side of a one way street in between two Faberge eggs.  What I can't do is lift a 2-ton Honda Accord and push it forward 3-feet to make my Chrysler fit.  Everytime I get out of the car I make sure I am pulled forward (or back) as far as I can to make as much room as possible for another car.  It is my daily good samaritan act.

Unfortunately my neighbors are not learning by example and I am growing increasingly frustrated.  I am at the point where I am ready to start serving up my own brand of "Vig-Jew-Lante Justice".  I found a website called http://www.youparklikeanasshole.com/ where you can printout fake "parking tickets" with asshole infractions you can check-off.  While it's is an amusing concept, this means I need to print out these fake tickets and have them in my purse with a pen and go up and down the street continually like a meter-maid.  Not exactly the best use of my time for a person by person temporary solution.

My newest (and I think best) idea is to attempt a somewhat of an Anthroplogical experiment.  I think it will cost me about $10 and an hour of my time.  I just need a proverbial "partner in crime" (because I think my idea may actually be illegal and I need an extra set of hands).  I remember reading a story a few years back about a guy so frustrated with the lack of signage on the 110 Freeway that he created his own and actually attached it to a real freeway sign.  It looked perfect and was effective and no one knew it was unauthorized until he revealed it a full year later. (http://www.good.is/post/the-fake-freeway-sign-that-became-a-real-public-service/)  This is my parking version of a freeway sign.

I want to take a tape measure and a can of white spray paint and make regulation length parking spaces on my street. Yes, this is how Nerds solve their problems, with tape measures and T-Squares. I am curious to see if the citizens of Miracle Mile will fall in step a la Dead Poet's Society and actually park within the lines.  If they don't at least I will go down swinging and will have earned my right to bitch and moan about the horrible people in LA. But, if by chance they actually do, then I will Project Runway myself up a dork-a-tard and cape and start carrying an old school ghetto blaster on my shoulder, because as I learned from one of my favorite movies, "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka"... every good super-hero needs theme music.

Applications for my "Robin/Tanto/Kato" can be found here: http://tinyurl.com/5vxn26t

For Every Action There Is an Equal and Opposite Reaction

In the past week I have bore witness to two absolutely absurd public outbursts (thankfully by strangers) and it has really got me thinking about cultural behavior.  In the tech-obsessed society we live in, do we not know how to interact with people anymore?

The first incident happened on Tuesday at a marketing luncheon at Ruth's Criss Steak House in Beverly Hills.  Two of my colleagues and I were invited by Cvent.com, an event software company, for a free lunch and a lesson on their newest iteration of their product.  In all, there were maybe 50 guests in attendance.  We dined while the facilitator, Robert, made a powerpoint presentation. 

It was a lovely lunch and I was whispering back and forth with my colleagues about how useful the software would be for some of our work, when all of a sudden someone shouted at the top of their lungs "Oh my God!  Are you on your cell phone?"  I am not exaggerating when I say it was loud.  It was overly loud for the room we were in.  It actually startled me it was so loud.

My first reaction was to find who said it.  I looked left and right and discovered that it was a gentleman, about my age, sitting at a table in front of me and to my right. Then I followed his line of vision and he was staring at a man, maybe in his 60s, who was sitting all the way across the room, directly in front of Robert the presenter, and he was indeed chatting on his cell phone.

The younger gentleman stood up then continued even louder, "You are disrespecting everyone in this room, and especially Robert!  You are rude and disgusting man!"  At this point, my mouth fell open and my eyes turned to saucers.  What was fantastic about this was 1) it did not stop the older gentleman from continuing his conversation   2) I don't think anyone except maybe Robert and a few people in the immediate vicinity even noticed the call    3) the younger guy came off so incredibly aggressive that it actually overshadowed the rude cell phone call.

The room became silent like it does in an old western when outlaw mosies into the saloon.  I was watching the younger guy as I was unsure as to whether he was going to leave his seat and rip the phone out of the old guy's hand or scream again.  The 5 seconds of silence seemed to last about 10 minutes.  Then Robert tried to defuse the situation by leaning over to the old guy and saying "If it is an important call, then you can just step outside and finish it".  Great move by him, except the old guy did not get up, nor did he hang up his call.  Robert paused for a moment and said, "You're really going to keep talking? Ok, then." and then just spoke up a bit and continued with his presentation.  I looked over to see if the younger guy was going to do anything.  He was stationary, but I could actually see the steam coming from his ears.

About 3 minutes later, the old guy finally hung up his call and said "I'm sorry".  This made the younger guy go totally apoplectic.  He said, "Did you just actually say you're sorry?  UNBELIEVABLE!!!"  Everyone in the room was completely frozen.  I don't even think I was actually breathing. There was another long pause and then Robert just continued.  It made the rest of the presentation agonizingly uncomfortable.

The second incident happened on Thursday at Ralph's supermarket.  I was doing some grocery shopping in the late afternoon. The store wasn't very crowded, but there were definitely people in the aisles.  I was listening to an Adam Carolla podcast on my ipod as I was walking down the baking aisle.  I was almost at the end of the aisle, when I noticed it was blocked.  There was an extra display of powdered sugar on sale that was taking up half the aisle and then a gentleman had parked his cart right next to it while he was about 5 feet away looking at flour or spices or something, so the aisle was completely blocked.  I paused for a moment to see if he was going to move his cart. He didn't so I walked over to his cart and said "excuse me, I'm just going to move this" and backed his cart up behind the powered sugar display so I could pass by.

Apparently this was a grevious offense. As I had my back to him and also my ipod buds in my ears he shouted at me loud enough that I could hear him through Adam Carolla,  "How dare you move my cart!?!?!?"  I turned around and took the buds out of my ears and I said "I'm sorry".  He then continued, "Who do you think you are moving my cart?  You almost stepped on my foot and I just had surgery.  You could have hurt me.  How dare you!?"  He was screaming loud enough that passersby noticed and stopped.

I was shocked to say the least.  I guess "almost" stepping on someone's foot is a horrible crime punishable by public flogging.  By the way, I looked down at his feet.  Both of his precious tootsies were in shoes, not a cast or bandage, so I guess it wasn't that bad. I opened my mouth about unleash my acid tongue, and then I stopped.  I paused for a good few seconds and simply said in a much lower voice,  "I am sorry, sir.  I didn't mean to offend you."  He opened his mouth and made the face like he was about to yell again, and I guess he felt stupid because I clearly wasn't going to argue with him, and then he turned his back on me and pushed his cart in the opposite direction.

Now, if I almost stepped on the man's foot, then it is my bad indeed, and he had every right to give me an "excuse me, miss" kind of admonishment, but what I received was an embarrassing tongue lashing.  Just like the old guy with the cell phone deserved to be busted on his bad behavior, but the punishment did not fit the crime.  It actually made the rest of us feel more uncomfortable than the cell phone offender.

So my question is this:  Do people just not know how to talk to others, or is everyone just itching to be heard?  Due to the influx of the mutliple digital devices in our lives are we losing our abilities to effectively communicate in person, or are we just drowning in our own narcissism?

It would be easy to say it's the former, but I'm inclined to say it is the latter.  I think people are infatuated with their own voices (says the woman with the blog).  Case in point: I was flying back to LA from Vegas a couple of weeks ago.  Now, I am not a big fan of the recent security measures that are in place at airports, but in my mind, the rules amount to a mild inconvenience compared to being blown up by a pair of fertilizer laced Air Jordans.  As I was going through the security scanner removing my lap top from its bag and placing my menacing flip flops on the conveyor belt, the woman behind me decided to take the opportunity to share with me (and the TSA workers) the following nugget of info, "Benjamin Franklin said that those who give up liberty in the name of security deserve neither liberty or security."  She then looked to me for applause/acknowledgement.  I threw her a half nod with a cocked eyebrow.  As I was putting my belt back on, the TSA guy pulled her to the side and said they needed to examine her backpack...because she had left a snowglobe in it. 

Moral of the story:  I guess having a pithy quote chambered, or an indignant response to others doesn't make you any less of a dumbass.

Sir Isaac Newton

Tear(gas) Drops on my Pillow

Drama just follows me wherever I go.  I try to lead a normal life and no matter what I do, disaster finds me  like a heat seeking missile...even 7000 miles away.  Case in point, my dream vacation to Greece this past Spring.

My BFF Tuck and I had been fantasizing about going all nerd-tastically to Greece for a million years.  We finally pulled together the time and the funds to make an amazing trip happen.  We would fly to Greece and spend a few days there, then take a cruise that ended in Italy and spend a few days in Rome and Venice before heading home.  The "centerpiece" of our trip in my mind was going to be our visit to the island of Santorini.  My inner-geek had been yearning to see Akrotiri since I was in college.  To say I was excited would be an understatement. www.therafoundation.org/akrotiri/

Now Tuck is a perfect travel companion for me because she is 1) as detail oriented/planning obsessed as me 2) as nerdy as me and 3) enjoys gelato as much as I do (which may actually be reason number 1).  Every aspect of our trip had been planned. Hotels reserved, museum appointments made, cruise shore excursions booked.  You name it, we had it taken care of and filed away in our individual travel documents folders (did I mention we were nerds?)

We left for Europe on Monday night on Iberia Airlines http://www.iberia.com/ and arrived Tuesday afternoon.  We were to spend that evening at the Athens Airport Holiday Inn http://www.hiathens.com/ and fly to Santorini first thing Wednesday morning.  We would stay 2 days and Fly back Friday morning and have 2 days in Athens before we boarded our cruise.

One thing we did not account for was the short amount of time we had during our layover in Madrid.  We only had 45 minutes between landing and take off and we literally had to sprint from one side of the GIGUNGOUS airport to the exact opposite side (including taking one of those airport subways and having to go through customs AND security).  We made it to our flight just as they were making the final boarding announcement.  As fantastic as it was that we made it on our connecting flight, turns out that our luggage was not so lucky.  When we got to the Athens airport, our bags did not show up.

We went to the luggage customer service counter to speak to someone (FYI, everyone in Europe speaks English which is a blessing because otherwise we would be sooooooo incredibly screwed). When we got to the counter we explained to the gentleman about our bags and expressed our concerns about getting our belongings in time for our flight in the morning.  He responded in the most non-chalant/matter-of-fact voice "Well, that won't happen because of the strike tomorrow." And then he continued to type into his computer. Confused (and not quite sure we heard correctly) we asked him to repeat what he had just said.  He further explained that Wednesday was a "Strike Day" and that all planes, buses and boats would be "grounded" for the day.  Since the next flight from Madrid to Athens wasnt til Wednesday, we wouldnt get our bags til Thursday or Friday.  "But we are going to Santorini tomorrow?!?!" we said. His response was "Yeah, that's not going to happen"

Obviously that sent us reeling. We had to finish dealing with the lost luggage info and then he told us to go upstairs to the ticket counter to deal with our flight to Santorini http://www.olympicair.com/ .  Once upstairs we found out that the strike was definitely happening on Wednesday at that they had known for a couple of days because this was like the 4th strike in 6 months, but everything would be back to normal on Thursday.  We tried to switch our trip to Santorini to be Thursday to Saturday, but since everyone had known for days about the strike, all of the Thursday flights were booked and the earliest we could go would be Friday.  Since we couldnt risk flying back the same day as our cruise, we had to cancel our Santorini plans. Yes, we were crushed.

We headed to the Holiday Inn and I called the hotel in Athens we were supposed to stay at when we got back from Santorini and they said they had availablity for us to come the next day and stay through Sunday.  One night and one $50 cab ride later we arrived at our cute Athenian Hotel, The Acropolis Museum Boutique Hotel http://www.acropolismuseumhotel.com/

The hotel was adorable and our room was to die for. It faced the street and had a balcony from which you could see the Temple of Olympian Zeus http://www.templeofolympianzeus.com/  we had been in our room for about 15 mins getting settled in and figuring out what our next steps would be (shopping for clean clothes, making sure the airline had the address of the new hotel, etc) when we heard a ruckus outside.  We stepped out on to the balcony and no exaggeration, a strike demonstration parade was filling the street and passing directly beneath our balcony.  It was all very peaceful and spirited with lots of banners and signs and clapping and chants and accordians.  There were probably 3000 people in total participating.  We watched in amazement for a half an hour realizing that had we been any later we would have not been able to get to the hotel because the street was shut down.

the view of the demonstartion parade from our balcony

I turned on the TV to see what was going on and the BBC (which was the only English station) was showing footage of civil unrest in Athens near the Parliament.  It seemed weird because the demonstration was so peaceful and everyone we had spoken to said the strike was "no big deal/happens all the time".  We went downstairs to ask recommendations on where to shop for clothes and Donna, the adorable hotel manager told us she would send us to the area where the locals shop, about a 10 minute walk from the hotel, not the tourist area where we would be overcharged.  She pulled out a map and drew a route for us.  I looked at it and noticed that the path went right past the Parliament.  I told Donna about what we saw on the BBC and her exact words to us were "This Greece. Is perfectly safe. Trust me."

With a shrug of our shoulders, we left the hotel and started walking up the hill towards all of the historic tourist attractions and the shopping district.  The streets were filled with locals and tourists who had no place to go to work or visit since everything was closed for the strike.  People were just wondering around aimlessly.  As we started up the hill we could still see the attractions like Hadrian's Arch www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arch_of_Hadrian , Lycabbetus Hill www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Lycabettus and the entrance of the Acropolis and Parthenon www.athensguide.com/parthenon As we passed the entrance we noticed a news van parked on the sidewalk doing a story on all of the hub-bub.  Of course, I tripped over the TV cables that were on the ground and was this close to eating shit Greek style on the pavement.

As we continued to walk up the hill, awed by the sites and the faces, we noticed it seemed to be getting more and more congested with people.  We crested the top of the hill and could see hundreds of people in the streets ahead of us.  We paused wondering what we should do and then we saw these white cloudy shots streak across the air.  I asked Tuck "What the hell was that?"  She had no idea.  We were about to continue to keep on walking when all of a sudden, the hundreds of people in front of us started running towards us...in a frenzied stampede.  I grabbed Tuck's hand and yelled "RUN!!!!!!!!!!" and we took off back down the hill we had just ascended as we heard more shots and sirens and screams.  We ran past the news van and ducked into the entrance to the Parthenon.

Even though the attraction was closed, we could still walk around the outside and we took some photos of the cityscape from the Rock of Aeropagos where St Paul spoke to the people of Athens in 51 AD.  After a couple of hours in hiding we made our way out of the Acropolis area and wandered through the Plaka (the village within the city that is all windy small streets which is the touristy area with all of the shops and restaurants) www.athensguide.com/plaka

We kept walking and walking and the next thing we knew, we had managed to make our way to Syntagma Square www.athensguide.com/syntagma  - the area outside the Parliament.  It was a ghost town.  Hardly a soul around and the square had been DESTROYED.  Grafitti was everywhere.  Plants and flowers had been dug up.  Decorative marble was smashed. 

yes, we took shards of marble as souvenirs

Trash cans were lit on fire and still smoking and newspaper vending machines were turned over.

there were at least 3 trashcans still smoking and way more vending machines over-turned

A forklift had been set ablaze.  

poor forklift

Piles of trash had been set on fire in the middle of the street

one of about a million piles of trash that were set on fire

and everything that was glass (and I mean EVERYTHING) was smashed into a million pieces. 

anything that was glass was obliterated

Man, those Greeks really new how to have peaceful demonstrations.

We walked around in awed silence taking pictures and surveying the expanse of damage.  A few minutes later I mentioned to Tuck that my eyes were burning and that my throat was itchy and my nose was running non-stop.  I thought it was weird because I don't have allergies.  It was at that moment that we saw the exploded tear gas canisters littering the street.  Yep, I was having a reaction to the tear gas that was still lingering in the air. AWESOME!

these were everywhere

We covered our noses and mouths with our shirts and headed back down the main street back towards the hotel.  As we walked, we could see that the damage contiued down the hill.  Every glass window, phone booth and ATM along the road was smashed to smithereens.  3 cars had been set on fire (including the news van I had tripped over on the way up).  Grafitti was everywhere and a bank had been set on fire.  The damage continued all the way down the hill and stopped 1 block before our hotel (I guess the wronged masses ran out of steam on the 10th block)

Yeah, we hid in the hotel the rest of the night.

The next day, much to our joy and amazement, our bags arrived at the hotel at 7am.  Donna apologized for sending us directly into the fray and swore up and down "Nothing like this ever happen in Greece. Is very safe here."

We cleaned up and had breakfast and decided to set out on the same path up the hill to try and get some sightseeing in.  Much to our surprise, EVERYTHING was back to normal.  People were working, tourists were shopping, locals were drinking coffee in the cafes.    The strike had officially ended at midnight and in the 10 hours since normalcy resumed, the government had set out to clean up as much damage as possible.  Except for the melted cars in the street and smashed windows which were boarded up with plywood it was like nothing had happened. If not for those reminders, it would have been like I had made the whole thing up... but I guarantee you I am not that clever.

So to recap in my first 24 hours in Greece I:
1) lost my luggage
2) almost got stampeded in a riot
3) got to experience the effects of teargas (for I hope the only time in my life)

I swear it wasn't my fault.

Chicken Sh*t

I'm 35 and single.  I know.  It's astonishing.  I find it quite odd myself. I definitely didn't still expect to be single at this point in my life, but I'm just going with it.  I'd be really concerned if I was totally ugly, but since I still look a few years younger than my actual age, I figure I have a couple more  New Year's Eves before the panic completely sets in and I have a major meltdown.

Last night at my sister's birthday party I had a disturbing experience.  My brother-in-law's Aunt Brenda totally interrogated me. I was saying something about my impending move and she interrupted me  and asked "Are you married?"  I smiled and replied, "No." She then asked "Have you ever been married?"  I raised one eyebrow and said "No, I haven't."  She then asked me  eagerly "Do you want to get married?"  I had no idea where she was going with this line of questioning, but I think she was trying to intimate that something was wrong with me.  I let it roll off of my back as I figured I was in better shape than her knocked-up unwed daughter who was also sitting at the table.  I then found an excuse to walk away.  It was best not to stay in too close of proximity to an easy target with my acid tongue.

As I drove home, one thing did sting though.  She got me thinking about the why.  Why aren't I married.? Hopefully it's not because I am 1) a total bitch 2) a total basketcase or 3) and total seahag.  I then realized something about myself; I am total moron when it comes to men.  Not in the "I have bad taste in men/only choose the unavailable types" kind of way.  I am a moron in the I have no idea how to flirt, nor do I know when I am being flirted with kind of way.  How can I progress in a relationship, when I don't even know how to handle the nascent stages of courting?  Case in point, my experience at California Chicken Cafe last week:

After a work event last week, I dropped off my favorite Gay, Kyle, at his house and was ready to head home myself, when I realized I was hungry.  Since I was in the area, I thought I'd treat myself to some California Chicken Cafe http://www.californiachickencafe.com/    It was about 8pm when I got there and it was packed.  As I walked up to the register there was a Dad with 2 kids gathering up his order.  He was clearly in over his head because his little girl was stomping around the restaurant shouting at the top of her lungs with her hands over her ears.  It was adorable. The Dad looked like he was on the vergeof a nervous breakdown.

After I placed my order I stood up against the wall of the restaurant near all of the other "to go" people.  About 30 seconds later, the overwhelmed Dad and his brood walked by me towards the exit.  The little gilr was still shouting.  When they left I looked at the guy standing next to me, and I said "That little girl was adorable."  he said "Yeah, but she knows it."  I responded, "Let her.  Hopefully she'll grow up with some self esteem rather than being some self-deprecating train wreck like the rest of us." (yes, I was projecting).  He agreed.

A minute later a guy stood be behind me and asked me if I was in line for the restroom.  I looked up and I realized that I was standing in front of the men's room.  I replied no and told him to help himself.  This is when the first guy looked up at me and just laughed.  Then this exchange happened:

Me: I hope I don't look like one of those skeevy girls that stakes out men's rooms.
Dude: I wouldn't worry about it.  Doesn't fit with your look.
Me: Good to know
Dude: Can I ask you, what is your ethnicity?
Me: (Surprised by the question) Um, I am your standard Caucasian Jew
Dude: Oh!
Me: Ok, what is your ethnicity? (mind you this was the first moment I noticed he was Hot)
Dude: I am half Jew and half black
Me: Well, the look works for you.  My name is Kerry by the way (as I extended my hand)
Dude: I'm Dax (shaking my hand)
Me: (Laughing) Of course it is.
Dax: What does that mean?
Me:  Well you have the cool look complete with the Elvis Costello glasses, so of course your name is Dax.  Next you'll tell me that you are a musician.
Dax: (Pregnant pause) I actually am a musician...and a film editor
Me: Oh my god! I so did not mean to stereotype you.
Dax: No worries.  So are you from around here?
Me: I grew up in LA and I work up the street in Westwood.  How about you?
Dax: I grew up not to far from here and still live in the area.  What do you do?
Me: I do marketing for an educational company
Dax:  That sounds cool.  What part of LA did you grow up in?
Me: I grew up in the Valley, in Gra...
Chicken Cafe Worker: Order number 96 is ready
Dax: That's me. Bye.

See in my head, all of that conversation was leading up to him asking for my phone number.  Instead, he took off like his shoes were on fire. Nope.Nothing. I soooooo didn't get that.

I called Kyle to ask him if I looked like a hot mess when I dropped him off or if I smelled bad or something.  He confirmed that I had my cute on.  So I told him the story and he just laughed and said "Yeah, I don't get straight guys either."

So apparently when I think I am being flirted with, I am just filling time in between chicken orders.  So much to the dismay of Aunt Brenda, it looks like I'll be single for at least a little while longer.

Is Bigger Actually Better?

I am shameful.  It is the exact opposite of being shameless, for I carry my shame with me at all times.  It has basically gotten to the point where I expect stupid and embarrassing things to happen to me on a daily basis.  This is why I carry Shout Wipes with me wherever I go (just being pragmatic).  This actually comes quite in handy for on those rare days when I don't spill something all over myself - I call it the Shout Wipe Talisman Effect - I am often able to assist those who have the occasional mishap and are otherwise unprepared (why would they be, right?)  The problem is that no matter how many Shout Wipes I have in my possession, it doesn't stop me from being a complete and total Dumb Ass.

Now, if you know me, you know that I have big boobs.  I do not hide them, as they are my best asset, so chances are at one point or another they have caused you what I like to call the Solar Eclipse Impact (ultimately no matter how hard you try, you can't help but stare).  Do not fear.  Yes, I know you are staring, and no, I wouldn't have them on dispaly if I minded...just try and be a little subtle is all I ask.

The problem with my boobs (I refer to them as 5 & 6 - they are heavy bust cards...get it?) is that:
1)  they are crumb collectors much like a DustBuster.  I swear every night I take off my bra and things fall out of there like abusted pinata.  No joke - I have had moments when something fell out on  to the floor and I'm like "I didn't eat French Fries today.  How'd that get in there?"
2) they get in the way.  Carrying large items can be quite difficult and painful
3) they act independently of the rest of my body.  I have no gauge as to how far out they are. It changes. I misjudge and slam into walls and clip corners.  You know that joke "What do Dolly Parton's shoes look like?  She doesn't know either." 

Yes, I know, cry you a freaking river.  Hold back the hostility, I am not complaining.  I like my boobs.  I just had to get some prologue out there first so I could share with you, yet another glimpse into my pathetic life.

So for about 5 years nows I have been dealing craps & blackjack for corporate and private parties.  I do it on the weekends a couple of nights a month.  It's a fun way to make a little extra cash (which ultimately financed my trip to Europe this past Spring) and it beats the heck out of working retail.  The only sucky thing about it is that I have to wear an unflattering "uniform" of black slacks, a tuxedo shirt and bow-tie.  Not that it looks awful, I actually think it is nice, but when you have big boobs and you are wearing essentially man clothes, you look kinda box-y.

I work mainly for 2 party planning companies, but every now and again I get an email or call from someone who owns a company that heard about me and they are in need of a craps dealer in a pinch.  Craps dealers are hard to find.  Good craps dealers are even harder to find, and I am a good craps dealer.

One such occasion happened a couple of years ago, when I got a call to deal craps at a schmancy Tennis & Boat Club in Torrance.  It paid $100 for like 3 hours worth of work. Sounded good to me so I jumped in to my uniform and headed over to the South Bay.

I have been to a ton of parties in 5 years.  In that time I would say I have had less than a half dozen bad gigs.  People for the most part are always in a good mood when you are teaching them how to win copious amounts of fake money to exchange for crappy raffle tickets.  I have dealt at practically every hotel in the Greater LA & OC areas.  I've dealt at the Playboy Mansion (twice) and dozens of absolutely exquisite homes. I know good parties from bad.  This party was really nice.  The guests were polite and fun.  The host was kind.  And the set-up was really sweet. 

The party was thrown by a very nice gentleman for his wife's 40th birthday.  Just as the party was starting he came by and told the dealers to help themselves to food.  It was a very kind offer but very hard to take him up on his generosity with guests around.  About half way through the party, the husband stopped all of the gambling and called everyone outside for the big gift unveiling (it was a yacht).  It was at this point that all of the dealers and servers were able to partake of some snackage.  I had already eaten dinner, but I was more than happy to head over to the chocolate fountain and have a few tasty bites.

The party-goers came back inside about 10 minutes later and the gaming resumed.  The guests continued being friendly and I even noticed that they were being exceedingly generous with tipping, which is a rarity (people are less inclined to tip you with real money when they are playing with fake chips).  The rest of the evening flew by.  I walked away with an absurd amount of tips, a check for $100, and belly satiated with chocolate dipped strawberries. I drove home smiling, muttering to myself "why can't all gigs be that awesome?"

I made it home all "aglow" with my bounty for the evening.  I walked to the mirror to take my bowtie off...and that was when I noticed a HUGE chocolate streak across both of my boobs.  Somehow I had managed to lean a bit too far whilst dipping and actually boob-bumped the chocolate fountain. I couldn't see it because of the aforementioned bowtie.  I dealt for well over an hour with chocolate boobs and not one of the party guests felt the need to tell me.  They instead pity-tipped me.

I spent the rest of that evening and the next day experiencing deep & profound retroactive shame. The bummer of the whole thing is that I had Shout Wipes in my purse that night.  If someone had actually told me, I could have remedied the situation and would have been fine.  Now I am just reminded of my shame EVERYTIME I see a chocolate fountain...not that it ever stops me from eating from one.  It takes a helluva lot more shame than that to ruin me on chocolate fountain for an eternity.

Jealous of my penguin suit?