So What If I Don't Like Happy Endings?

As some of you know, I had to come home to Raaaaachester for a few weeks due to a family emergency. (And thank all of you who have given me support and love during this extremely difficult time. And it is great to be home, but it is not for the right reasons.) And basically I have learned my whole fucking family thinks I am nuts.

When I was packing, I consulted my youngest sister for fashion advice. And she does not understand why I feel the need to spend so much money on clothes, shoes, and purses. My philosophy is dress for the job you want and not the one you have, as I have mentioned before. (And I want to be the fucking CEO of Xerox, so it is imperative that I look fabulous at any given moment.) So if sometimes this means I have to spend more than the average American's mortgage payment on one pair of shoes, then so be it! I explain this to my sister and she proceeds to lecture me on how I need to be shopping at H&M or Forever 21. Ummmm, hello! Earth to Anna, come in Anna, are you there? When did you last hear of a CEO who picked her way through the bargain bin at Target?!?! I don't think so.

So I have been super stressed with everything that has been going on. And I express that by not eating and exercising all the time...it is my coping mechanism. As a result, I have lost ten pounds since my birthday. Woohoo!! Go me! But I get of the plane from the People's Republic of Portland, and my parents think I have totally gone ana-mia again on their asses. I get a lecture on how I am fucked in the head, according to my mom, and have a warped perception of self. Fun.

My other sister has a new boyfriend. Gone is the granola loving forever flame. I am beginning to think she is a complete serial monogamist. She is living at home, but spends almost every night at the new man's. The only time she comes to my parents' place is when she needs food or to do laundry. (Seriously, what a sweet deal is that?!?! Living rent free and not having to pay for damn thing.) When I learn she is stopping by with the new man for clothes and food, I get all excited to meet him! I ask her how much she has told him about me and this is what she said- I have a great job and car. I workout too much. And I am super smart, but slightly crazy!!! Who talks shit like that about their sister to someone she has never met?!?! SLIGHTLY CRAZY. (And guy is ten years older, divorced, two older kids. And I kept an open mind!) Then when she gets home with him, all Laura can do is rip on me! Yeah, that was a good time.

After she left, I watched "An Affair to Remember" with my parents. I like it up until the point where Nicki discovered the reason Terry couldn't meet him at the Empire State Building is because she was hit by a car and is now paralyzed...and they lived happily everafter. I HATE happy endings. In real life, there are no happy endings, at least not for me. And I don't want to watch a movie that promotes this unrealistic expectation that everything will be okay and we will all have happy endings, even under the worst of circumstances. When I told my parents how I thought, they told me I was insane.

But, life isn't about expecting the happy ending. You have to make the best of what you have- good or bad. And I don't want to live my life waiting for the happy ending to come. If you have low expectations, then you will never be disappointed. So, what if I don't like happy endings?

There Are Good Things About Oregon??

If you have read any of my previous posts, you have probably gathered that I still have not come to terms with the fact that I live in Oregon. Fucking Oregon. With the hippies and tree-huggers and granola-loving environmentalists. I don’t feel like I fit in here, or that I am accepted. But at the same time, I don’t think I am giving the state a fair chance.

Over the weekend, I had lunch with Portland’s hottest gay couple, aka Doug and Kasey. I told them how I felt like I was the only like me in the city. And they pointed out that the fact that I am here should show me that I am probably not the only one. And it will just take some time to find my kindred capitalist, shoe-loving spirits.

I think I tell EVERYONE I talk to about my feelings towards Portland and Oregon. As a result, I have received the below email on numerous occasions. (The bold text are my comments...I always put my two cents in!) Up until this point, the only good things about living here are- 1) no sales tax and 2) they pump your gas. So, I am going to try really really really hard to like it here.

Why Oregon Rocks....If you already didn't know!

OREGON PEOPLE (also referred to as Oregonians, Oregonites, and Oregeishans)

We are in Oregon, the best state in the US, which means we have skiing in the east, farm country in the valley, wine country in the south, skiing (again) right smack in the middle, the ocean out to the west, and not too many suburbs since we have urban growth boundaries, take your pick.

The Rose Festival includes the largest all floral parades in the country.

P-town is the City of Roses.

Portland has more strip clubs per capita than any other city in the country. (BOW-CHICKA-WOW-WOW!!!)

We can drink any city/state under the table.

We have more microbreweries per capita than Germany! (i.e. we have a better night life than you!)

We have more ghost towns than any other state - yeah, we're pretty spooky.

We don't have to pump our own gas.

We don't have sales tax, either.Average Precipitation - 37" (less than Atlanta, Baltimore, Houston or Seattle - and without that nasty humidity) - Take that!

More people drink Pabst Blue Ribbon in Portland than anywhere else in the US.

Rogue Ale Brewery, Full Sail, Pelican Brewery, Widmer, Deschutes Brewery and so much more! So many choices... so many beers... again with the best night life...

We can hit the club, drink at a friend's house, go to the beach, and go skiing all in one weekend, year round.

We have the country's leading clean-air mass transit system for all those who care about breathing...

Matt Groening, creator of The Simpson's is from P-town and his father's name is Homer.

We know how to drive, period. (I UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES AGREE WITH THIS ONE!!!!!)

Tillamook cheese is the shit!

We have The Original Pancake House.

All of you played the Oregon Trail computer game and drowned your oxen on purpose... and you know it. (OH, THIS WAS TOTALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE GAMES! EVEN AS A SECOND GRADER I WAS A NERD AND LIKED THE EDUCATIONAL COMPUTER GAMES.)

Winter and spring may cause you to rust, but the summers average around 80 with no humidity.

A shout out to our neighbors below us...Please go back, back to Cali, Cali... (I TAKE OFFENSE TO THIS! THE PEOPLE OF OREGON NEED TO BE ACCEPTING OF DIFFERENT CULTURES!)

We take snow days whenever because it's always snowing on Mt. Hood.

TV shows about rich kids whining haven't got shit on The Simpson's. Oh and don't forget The Shining..."Here's Johnnnnyyyy!!" ... that was filmed at Timberline Lodge ((rebecca's note: no it wasn't. they used timberline for the outward appearance but the majority of the movie was filmed in CO)). One Flew Over the Cukoo's Nest was filmed in the State Hospital in Salem. And Animal house was filmed in Eugene Oregon. Kindergarden Cop, The Goonies, Short Circuit, Free Willy, Chuthlu, and The Ring 2 were all filmed in Astoria. Mr. Holland's Opus was filmed at Grant High School in Portland.

Fuck Blue Crab... Dungeness Crab is the shit, no butter necessary.

We have Crater Lake, America's deepest lake and Hells Canyon, the world's deepest river carved canyon.

We don't have an accent.

Every time you see one of the Trail Blazers, not on the basketball court, they are high. We can't blame them,

Oregon herb is dank.

Grown men who wear Birkenstocks are manly... (in Eugene) (EWWWWW)

We clam bake, hot box, and smoke out, not up.

We get off school for one inch of snow. (OHHH I CAN”T WAIT FOR THIS!! I WENT TO SCHOOL IN FOUR FEET OF SNOW AND DIDN”T THINK ANYTHING OF IT. SCHOOL WOULD ONLY BE CANCELED IF THE POWER WAS OUT…OR IF THE GAS FROZE IN THE FUELS OF THE SCHOOL BUSES…YEP, IT GETS THAT COLD IN RAAAAAAACHESTER!)

Our crab is better than Maine's lobster.

We have the best Shakespeare Festival in the world.

Move over Napa Valley... the Willamette Valley is coming to getchya!

Medical Mary J aint bad either

You can pretty much drive anywhere in Oregon and enjoy it because I would have to say that the MEN & WOMEN in Oregon Kick ASS for being beautiful !!

The ladies in oregon are hott. They are better than California girls. The ladies in Oregon like to hang at the beach in their bikinis, hike, rock climb, camp, and jump outta planes. They just flat out ROCK!!! (AGAIN, DON”T DIS THE CALI GIRLS)

Oregon is the only state where you will have to switch between AC and heater several times during the day!

Oregon is home. (NOW IT IS!)

The world does not stop just because it rains

We recycle because it's the right thing to do

In Oregon, you get a nickel for every soda can or beer can/bottle you drink!

Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall…

…Some Days Must Be Dark And Dreary
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Mr. Longfellow doe s not know what the fuck he is talking about. My life does not need any rain. I was perfectly happy living in SoCal when it never rained and it was always sunny. Now that I am in Portland aka the Rain Capital of the World, I can’t even REMEMBER the last time I saw the sun. And I have lost my tan almost entirely- I am pale and pastey, which is NOT a good look for me. For the first time in my life, I think I am going to have to start tanning on a regular basis! The gay barista at my Starbucks told me it was one of the few things that makes him feel better in this weather. (I have a friend who used to live in Minneapolis. She said that the only thing that helped her Seasonal Affective Disorder was shopping…the poor girl had to go to the Mall of America everyday to keep her sanity! Honestly, can you imagine what an incredible wardrobe I would have if I did that?!?! I already do enough shopping as it is!)

But the rain does help explain a lot about the people in the People’s Republic of Portland (ohhhh, the PRP…I will get into this one later). What would you call them? Portlanders? So, anyway, I have noticed that when you walk into a store or restaurant there is a little stop by the doorway and a sign indicated this is where one is to place an umbrella when entering the establishment. When I first moved here, it was sunny and wonderful, and I did not understand these little umbrella umbrella designated spaces. Now I do. But, I figure they must be for tourists because NO ONE in this fucking city carries and umbrella! On my way to yoga Monday night, it was pouring and I was the only one with an umbrella. I found this perplexing.

The lack of umbrellas, in turn, sheds so much light on the hippy tree-huggers! I am normally the only female in heels, make-up, and her hair down at any give moment or location in the PRP. This goes for work, as well. Now I realize it is because they don’t use umbrellas, and all these things would be ruined by the rain. But this still does not account for the lack of umbrellas in the first place…laziness? Indifference?

Since there will be no escaping Portland in the foreseeable future for more than a few days (including trips to Cali and the Annual Winter Sojourn to the East Coast…ugh I am going to FUCKING DIE!! I can’t handle the rain, let alone the goddamn snow. I am going to turn into a Saracicle), I need a strategy to make the rain seem less horrible. My yoga instructor suggested I keep telling myself I LOVE the rain. Then maybe I will be able to convince or trick myself into actually believing it! Yeah, that’s not happening. I tried. I still hate the rain.

But there will be a momentary reprieve when I go to California next week!! Yay!

Oh, so back to the People’s Republic of Portland. It looks like it will be a much larger part of the People’s Republic of the United States after the election! If Obama has his way, we will be living in a fucking socialist country!!!! A lot of people were shocked to hear that I did not vote for Obama. (A lot of people are also shocked when they hear I am not a vegetarian, which I have never understood. I need my meat, damn it!) Actually, I wrote in Rudy because I am a New Yorker at heart! The thing is, I am right wing in the sense that I believe the less government intervention into the lives of citizens, the better off we will all be. (Let’s hear it for my boy Jean-Baptiste Colbert and lassiez-faire economics!!! Woohoo!!!) As long as whatever you are doing makes you happy and you aren’t harming yourself or others, what the hell shouldn’t you keep on doing it?!?! So, I am all for a woman’s right to choose and gay marriage (boooo to all the assholes who voted yes in Cali on Prop 8! YOU SUCK!!!), but totally against social programs that are funded with my hard earned pay check that I can’t take advantage of because I make too fucking much money. In other words, the government needs to leave me and my paycheck the fuck alone!

Obama is totally NOT Mr. Laissez-faire. Just the opposite. When I was on my Groundhog’s Day Call (I have this weekly program team meeting for one of the services I am doing the marketing work for. This call lasts for 3-4 hours and the SAME fucking this is said in this call every fucking week! It is almost like it is scripted or something. So, I call it the Groundhog’s Day Call because it never changes and is always the same- like the movie. Seriously, we would get more accomplished in a monthly call that lasted 45 minutes. This call is a fucking waste of me invaluable time. Normally I spend it emailing, shopping online, or writing in my blog. It was especially painful today, and was forced to do all three.) it occurred to me that for the first time in history, Canada has a more right-leaning leader-elect than the United States!!! That’s it. I am defecting. I am going to seek political asylum in Canada. I think that Toronto could use one more marketing executive, anyway. (I have it all planned out- I am going to get a cute little condo in Yorkville and work for the Xerox branch on Bloor Street. I can head up Xerox Canada, and then take over Anne Mulcahy’s job as Chairman and CEO. Then I would rename the Chairman position to Chair-fashionista and move Xerox’s HQ to Toronto. Good plan and highly feasible, don’t you think?)

Oy vey! Tuesday night after the election results were announced, the fucking socialist tree-hugger hippies took to the streets in fine proletarian form! They were cheering and honking their horns, and being extremely obnoxious. And they fucking kept me until after midnight! I get up at 4am so I can go to the gym in the morning, and I need my beauty sleep. Not only were the hippies excited about the eminent shrinkage of my income, they caused me to look like ass the next day! I was not pleased. Because I have chutzpah, I yelled at the mother-fuckers in the hall of building to shut their goddamn mouths so I could go to sleep. I said that unlike their lazy trustafarian asses, I actually worked for a living! Yeeeeah, I made some enemies that night.

On a sad note, Vesper Lynd, my beautiful BMW 3.28i has suffered an injury! My poor baby and I were driving home from work when out of NO WHERE this rock hits her hood! (Actually, it was almost the exact same spot where my Civic was hit with a rouge baseball that shattered its windshield.) The rock literally torn the paint off. Not good, not good at all.

My Uncle

My dad’s older brother was diagnosed with cancer about a month ago. If he is lucky, he has three more years.

I surprised myself with the initial reaction I had. I was not upset that my uncle could possible die soon, but I was upset that my father would be losing a brother. Due to the evil step monster, my dad does not have a good relationship with his father and they haven’t spoken in years. The last time they saw each other, the step monster just about provoked WWIII. And my dad also does not talk to his sister. Other than his aunt (who is my father’s mother’s sister) and some cousins, my dad does not have too much to do with his family. But he is close with his brother. I could not imagine my life without my sisters or my parents. I can not fathom the idea of being so angry with them that I would never want to talk to them. It really bothers me that my dad does not have a better relationship with his family. So when he told me his brother is sick with cancer, I felt bad that he might be losing one of the few family members he still talked to.

My uncle (and his wife) has never taken very good care of themselves, health-wise. They are both obese and don’t pay attention to their diet and never exercise. In fact, my uncle has had many weight related problems- diabetes, joint trouble, sleep apnea, high blood pressure and cholesterol, etc. He even has gastric bypass surgery and did not lose a fucking pound! (Seriously, how the fuck does that happen?!?! You actually have to try hard not to lose weight after doctors make your stomach the size of a pea!) Less than a year ago he was hospitalized because he is on so many different medications for all of his aliments that they made his blood toxic! Now that my uncle has started his chemo, he is really not doing so well. He has lost his hair and is weak and sick and doing horrible.

My reaction to this was not compassion or empathy. Rather my first thoughts were, “He had it coming! He brought this on himself! I bet he wished he had taken care of himself.” That’s not normal. I know he can’t help that he got cancer. But he would have had a better chance if he were otherwise healthy. And it makes me mad. I’m mad that my dad is losing his brother. I’m mad that my aunt is losing a husband. I’m mad that cousin is losing a father. And I am mad that my sisters and I are losing an uncle.

At the same time, who the fuck am I to talk? I have not exactly been kind to my body. But it is the opposite of how my uncle was not kind to his body. After years of over-exercising, depriving my body of food, and intentionally puking up everything I ate, I am still seeing the aftermath of my bad behavior. And I probably always will. I don’t know if I can have babies (it’s a good thing I don’t want kids!). My hair won’t ever grow back all the way and be thick and beautiful like it used to. My hands are scared. I have osteopenia. So, if I am diagnosed with osteoporosis when I’m 30, people will probably say that I had it coming. That I did it to myself. That I bet I wish I had taken better care of myself.

She Finally Has a Name!!!

I decided that the BMW was giving off a feminine vibe and it must be a girl. She is hot, unique, and classy (just like her owner! HAHAHAHAHA!!! Riiiight…), so she needs a hot, unique, and classy name. It has been my life’s ambition to be a Bond Girl. (But I want to be an evil one, and not one that dies.) And my Bavarian Motor Works car is German, and Vesper Lynd is a pun on West Berlin. So it only made sense to go with Vesper Lynd! Vesper Lynd is the name of the Bond Girl in Casino Royale. Although Eva Green played her in the most recent version, Ursula Andress played the character in the original (even though the original was kind of a satire). And Ursula Andress is my FAVORITE Bond Girl of all time as Honey Ryder in Dr. No, but Honey Ryder is just slighty too porn for a car this classy!

I am in LOOOOOVE!!!!

I have fallen in love. Like serious head-over-heels in love.

My dad works for Xerox in Rochester, for those of you who don’t know. And no, that is not how I got my job. My boss never even heard of my dad. He is in the innovation group, so I market the technologies his team developed. Isn’t that cute?!?! Anyway, so my dad was in town for work. We both took an afternoon off so we could have some quality Father-Daughter Bonding time.

He was traveling with a team of nerds (his research engineers), so I got to meet them for Starbucks and dinner one night. They think I am nuts! (Which I very well might be.) One of them is a vegetarian, so I was given the task of finding a suitable restaurant for dinner. Considering the People’s Republic of Portland is filled with Trustafarians (this term is used to describe the seemingly poor tree-huggers who are actually trust fund babies), there are many high-end vegetarian eating establishments. And I found the mother of all hippy-friendly restaurants. It is this VEGAN restaurant called the Blossoming Lotus and located inside my yoga studio. Not only were there no meat or diary products on the meal, there were many raw and gluten-free offerings. That’s one good thing about the PRP- my dietary constrictions due to allergies have easily been accommodated. To balance out the hippy-ness of the Blossoming Lotus, I wore all labels- Cynthia Vincent, Prada, Kate Spade, and BCBG. But the food was really good!

One of the things my dad and I did (other than drink a LOT) is something we used to do all the time when I was growing up- look at cars! Because my dad is bad-ass and has a Harley, we stopped off at this HUGE HD dealership then went to lunch. After that, we went to the BMW dealership aka Heaven On Earth. I have been wanting a new car for a while. The Civic just does not cut it. I have a Big Girl Job and a Big Girl Wardrobe and a Big Girl Apartment. The Little Girl Car just does not work. Especially when consider the fact that most of my shoes cost more than my monthly car payment. I have been thinking about a 1 or 3 series. They both have the same engines, but the 1 series is lighter and thus the power-to-weight ratio kicks fucking ass!!!

We arrive at the dealership…and this is when I fell in love…with a 328i. The car is graphite with beige leather interior and wood accents. Perfection with four tires! It was truly an instance of love at first. And then I drove it. Enough said. I was concerned the 328 would be underpowered, and was pleasantly surprised! The 3.0 liter 6 cylinder engine puts out 230-hp at 6500 rpm and 200 lb-ft of torque at 2750 rpm! And it has almost perfect 50-50 weight distribution.

After the test drive, it was painful to drive the Civic. And that poor 2006 Honda Civic has had a tough life- rear-ended on the way to school, dented up by DAS, replaced windshield…not to mention I drove the shit out of that poor thing! So, when they offered me a lot more than the buyout, it was game over. The Civic lost, and the BMW won.

Daddy and I went to McCormick and Schmick’s for dinner to discuss my options and got totally hammered off of incredible wine in the process. We both came to the conclusion that the BMW was an offer I could not refuse. I went back the next day after work and reunited with my love!! We are both so happy together and look forward to three wonderful years together…when the new body style comes out and I get a new one. Afterall, I am a heartless bitch.

So the drive to work the next day just was not enough for me. I needed another excuse to drive my car and went to Starbucks. I had a traumatic experience. I parked very far away even though the parking lot was empty. No sooner do I step away from my car then this fucking stupid bitch in an old Explorer parks next me. I get my coffee and walk back to discover that she has parked so badly that I can't get out of the spot!!!! I had to go back into Starbucks and told the girls at the counter. One of them got up on a chair and made an announcement that must have been extremely embarrassing to Dumb Bitch. I had to wait ten minutes before she 'fessed up and moved her car. She said that as soon as she parked she knew she should have fixed it. I was like no kidding! And asked what stopped her. She just looked at me.

I am totally one of “those” anal, OCD car owners. I think I love this BMW more than life itself. I do not get along with the girl who parks next to me at my building…this will be interesting. (The bitch has the audacity to question my parking skills!!! I told her to measure because I was equidistance between both lines for my space. She said that just two days ago, I was parked so far over that she was unable to park. I then told her she was full of shit because I was out of town for ten days and just got back…and my car was parked at the airport. I then said, “Have a great day, sweetie, and learn to fucking park.” I am now concerned for the life of my car.)

It has been one week to the day that I have had my baby, and I have get to name it! First I need to decide if the car is a boy, girl, or an it. Then the name will come. Any suggestions out there???

Riding in an Ambulance and Other Adventures with Sally

I have finally recovered from the plague! Yay! And not a moment too soon because my former roommate from OC came up for the weekend. Sally and I shopped and drank our way through the People’s Republic of Portland. And I got to ride in an ambulance!

So, I am allergic to everything. Well, not everything, but a lot of things. Sally didn’t get in to PDX until late Friday night, so I stopped off at Whole Foods to pick up something to eat and wine. Now, there are two Whole Foods in the entire state of Oregon, both of which are at convenient locations. One is near where I live in the Pearl District and one is near where I work in Wilsonville. The near me I call the Evil One (although that may change after this experience) because bad things always happen to me when I am there. This is where I met my stalker. I had been in the PRP for two or three days and decided to make my way to WF. I pick up a basket and this guy comes up to me and tells me how I have great teeth, eyes, and sense of style. Immediately I think he’s gay…turns out not so much. He asked for me number so he could “show me a good time” and I told him I didn’t have my phone on me (even though he saw me texting) and to try email. I made him memorize a fake address. And now I see him almost EVERY time I am in that WF and he keeps asking why I am not emailing him back. And now he has started showing up at yoga asking if my email account is broken! Hahaha, take a hint, asshole!

And I also had a very tragic and traumatizing trip to this WF. I had just gotten my fabulous new haircut and had to grab dinner. The bitch at the register refused to double bag my groceries, and no sooner to I step outside when the bag brakes! And food got all over my $300 silk peach Cynthia Vincent skirt…then I went into shock. I was so distraught that I couldn’t even bitch and scream and yell at the customer service guy. Instead I was super nice. Not even a little bit of chutzpah. And he apologized and side WF would pay for the dry cleaning or a new skirt if I could not be saved. And of course the skirt is a few seasons old and no longer available. But WF has just ordered and the current equivalent and I should have it within 48 hours. Yay!

So the WF near Xerox is the Good One by default. I stopped off on my way home and purchased only Sara-friendly foods- lots of wine, gluten-free wheat-free peanut-free crackers and chips, and cheese. Then I went home to do some work before heading to the airport. Sally and I came back to my place and got slightly tipsy (well, I was tipsy. But I am also the world’s cheapest drunk) and got caught-up on each others’ lives. The next morning I got up and went for a run. I hopped in the shower and then I started turning bright red all over my body! My skin of tingly and itchy and I broke out into hives. And then my face got so swollen. My lips looked like I had a bad run-in with some collagen. They made Angie’s fucking fish lips look tiny! And my tongue swelled so much I couldn’t talk. I took some Benadryl and kept getting worse. I figured it might be time to go to the hospital.

Unfortunately, Sicky McAllergic-to-everything over here could not even walk to the goddamn care! Sally had to call an ambulance to get me to the ER. This was my first time in an ambulance. And oh my god, I felt like I was in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy!!!! It was seriously just like on TV. I get to the hospital and they load me up with a million different meds, and then I was totally back to normal! They did put me on a few prescriptions, including steroids. So don’t fuck with me- I am on the juice! And now thanks to the fucking ‘roids, I am all bloated and gross and uncomfortable. Eww. In the words of Cher Horowitz, “I feel like such a heffer!” Moo.

Then Sally and I hit up Starbucks, got ready, and went shopping! And oh, did we go shopping. We got out make-up done at the Bobbi Brown in Saks and they got us all liquored up with the free wine. I then proceeded to purchase more lipstick and clothes. Then we went to Nordy’s…and I got more eyeshadow…and the white leather Kate Spade bag I have been pining over for months. Drunken shopping is the best!

After our extremely successful shopping trip, we hooked up with Sally’s super-cool aunt and pseudo-cousin for dinner and more alcohol at a local winery. And of course, I was a drunken mess…would you expect anything less? I was hitting on all the hot guys, collecting numbers, and getting in fights with the dumbass bartender. I’m a prize.

Sunday we met up with one of Sally’s family friends for breakfast and pink martinis! (They were such pretty drinks!) Doug and Casey are two of the nicest people I have met, and they brought along this girl Heidi. She is Jewish on went on Birth Right, so we bonded!!

And then we headed back to the Pearl for more shopping! Because I am super-nerd, I LOVE bookstores. And Portland just so happens to be home to a famous bookstore called Powell’s Books. I bought some Chuck Palahniuk and James Ellroy for me, and James Frey, Chucky P, and Begdorff Blondes for Sally. Oh, and I got the world’s BEST calendar! SHOES!!!!! How Sara is that?!?! I can’t wait for 2009 and to hang it on the wall at work. (There is a guy at work that I always talk F1 with (go Lewis Hamilton!!!!) and his wife has a shoe and bag fetish, as well! So every morning he stops by to check out my shoes…or me. Not sure.) Oh, and speaking of shoes, I just got the HOTTEST pair of Christian Louboutins. I kick ass.

We made our way to the Kate Spade store. Fucking Nordy’s didn’t have a matching wallet for my purse. And I am extremely anal/OCD and NEED all my bags to have matching wallets…kinda like how I NEED my bras and thongs all to match. So, I knew I would never use the adorable Kate Spade bag unless I had a Kate Spade wallet to put in it. They did not have a white wallet I liked, so I got this little gold one to match the gold accents on the bag. And the best part is both the bag and wallet are lines in the same polka dot print!! How fucking cute is that?!?! And I knew I made the right choice when the gay barista at Starbucks noticed and gave me made props.

Then we decide we need more alcohol and hit up a cute Mexican-fusion restaurant. Then we start to head back to my place and are walking through the gay section. Sally sees a bar, and says, “What the hell? The place looks fun and we need more alcohol!” And we proceed to get fucking shit-faced. Because we are classy, we were the only ones in the bar at 3pm and made friends with the hot gay bartender. He hooked us up with the best drinks and shots and free CDs! And he was so hot. (Again, sometimes I wish I were a gay man.) Before we know it, it is time for Sally to leave me and go back to Cali. How sad.

But Daddy is coming to Portland! Yay! (I need it to look like I have my shit together, so I purchased pink drapes to match all my other pink shit in the apartment. I didn't have a drill to put up the curtain robs with...so I used nails instead...was that a bad idea??) He works for Xerox, as well, and has some workshops and meetings this week. We have scheduled some good father-daughter bonding time! We are looking at Harleys for him (he is contemplating getting another) and BMWs for me (because the Civic just is not cutting it anymore...I NEED more horsepower, dammit!). And I am trying to convince him to get a tattoo with me...we'll see how that one goes.

I'm Allergic to Hippies

Somehow, my seemingly mild case of bronchitis and an ear inflection has morphed itself into some sort of evil plague! I have been feeling like absolute crap and the meds I got early did nothing. In fact, I was getting worse. I left work early Friday to go home and sleep. I had just found a new salon and went for my first visit on Wednesday. Total blonde bombshell look! It had been dying for the opportunity to show it off, but rejected the offer Thursday night. A friend called me up to take a trip to Nordy's and then out for drinks...I declined because I was TIRED! When I have I ever turned down shopping or drinks?!?! I should have known then something was wrong.

(By the way, I wore JEANS to work for the second consecutive Friday! This must be a sign of the impending apocalypse, so watch for fleeing animals and follow them! They always seem to know where to go with this sort of thing. My mom even mentioned how the squirrels in Fairport were going crazy...and now she knows why. Although I have switched team to the granola side quite yet. Last week I wore my $250 Miss Sixty dark denim and this week I work my $300 navy Hudsons. I can still maintain my fashionista status and go casual at the same time. It's called multi-tasking! I am just trying to fit in with the company culture.)

On my way home I stopped at Target to stock up on cold medicine, as I finished off the last of my Dayquil. I bought every fucking cold/flu remedy they sold. Then I walked by the breast cancer awareness month display- it was all pink!!! I must have been high off of all the Dayquil because I bought every goddamn pink thing they were selling. And it was all kitchenware- pink frying pan, pink can opener, pink measuring cups, pink measuring spoons, etc. This wouldn't be such a big deal except I don't cook. (Actually, I am a very good cook, I just choose not to. It's hard when you don't have a lot of time and you are only cooking for one person! It's way easier to by bags of pre-washed pre-cut veggies, stick it on a plate, and call it salad than it is to throw together a real meal when you have two minutes.) Then because I am super nerd, I HAD to walk past the electronics section. The fourth season of "Entourage" just came out and I figured if I was going to be sick, then I was going to be sick while watching Jeremy Piven. Yeah, so my quest for $20 worth of cold medicine was expanded to include over $100 worth of pink cooking shit I will never use and DVDs.

I woke up Saturday feeling worse and sounding like I was about to hack up a lung. So on one the few beautiful days in PDX, I hauled ass to urgent care. Turns out that in addition to the ear inflection and bronchitis, I have a sinus infection AND early stage pneumonia! (I didn't even know you could get all these things at the same time, but leave it to me. I never do anything half-assed, and that includes getting sick. It's all or nothing with me, baby!) Seriously, how the fuck did that happen?!?!?! I don't understand. PNEUMONIA! That is something only old people get and when they do, it kills them! Oy vey. Thank GOD I did not have to be hospitalized. Instead, the doctor loaded me up with prescriptions- moxifloxacin (which happens to be the strongest antibiotic prescribed), prescription strength Sudafed, and vicodin (because nothing else can get me to stop coughing). I am all drugged up now. I feel no pain! Wooohoooo! And I think the drugs have made me a loopy. I am also under strict instructions not to drive or operate heavy machinery, and have been ordering to do nothing for 48 hours (like that's happening).

I have found all these drugs come with some interesting caveats-

1. The effectiveness of moxifloxacin is decreased with calcium in-take. I am not supposed to eat or drink anything that is high in calcium four hours before or after taking it. So of course I have had insatiable cravings for cheese, yogurt, ice cream, chocolate milk, and anything else with calcium...booo to power of suggestion!

2. Two of the most common side effects of vicodin are euphoria and drowsiness, both of which I am experiencing. It is an odd sensation to feel these two things at the same time. This is probably why it seemed like a good idea to clean my whole apartment when just twenty minutes earlier I was barely able to get myself out of bed. It's a good thing my apartment is small and doesn't take long to clean, because the euphoria quickly faded last night and drowsiness set in. I woke up about 16 hours later with cleaning paraphernalia everywhere. In the morning I read the warning label. Apparently vicodin is an opiate and it's baaaaad to mix it with acetaminophen. I guess the Theraflu was not such a good idea before bed!

3. This morning I woke up so congested that I could barely breathe. I took some of that prescription Sudafed and twenty minutes later I was bouncy off the walls. I was feeling great and decided to go to Starbucks for some caffeine and to get some work done. About four hours later, I crashed and burned. Then I read the warning label and increased alertness is a side effect.

4. Another side effect of all the above mentioned drugs is decresed appetite. This one I hope I get! I need some assistance in losing this ten pounds of access baggage I have discovered around my abs and ass. I normally lose my appetite when I am sick anyway, so hopefully this will help. As an optimist, I try to look on the bright side of things. And I have always said there is nothing like a bout with illness to help get rid of those stubborn extra pounds!

This has taught me two things-

1. I am very sensitive to drugs.

2. I should read the warning label BEFORE I take medicine.

Anyway, I have been contemplating how I fucking got so sick. And I have come to the conclusion that I am allergic to hippies. I am allergic to practically everything else, so why not the hippies? I hardly ever got sick before I moved to the PRP and when I did it was never this bad or lasted this long. And I have lived in a lot of different places, and the one differentiating factor in Portland is the granola factor. Maybe if the fucking tree huggers put more effort into their personal hygiene this would not be a problem. I have also decided they are a drain on the city's economy. They don't really work or have decent paying jobs, which has a few implications for the city. Rather than going to support programs everyone can benefit from, hard earned tax payer dollars (including HALF of salary!!!) are going to support social welfare programs that only those who are mooching off society can take advantage of. And because these hippies have no money, they are not doing their part to contribute to the retail sector and help grow the economy by increasing the money supply. On average in American cities, there is a money multiple factor of nine. This means that for each dollar pumped into the economy, it helps grow the economy by nine dollars. For all the money I have spent in this city, I deserve a fucking medal! The hippie allergy could possibly explain the weight gain, too. My solution- purge the city of the hippies!

I still feel like crap and am probably contagious, so I emailed Chris and told him I thought it would be best if I worked from home for a few days. (He will be on week two of his three week vacation and business trip stint, so I have been left to fend for myself and run the marketing department...that means I am in control! Muahahahahaha evil laugh! Yeah...power trip.) Not only did he think it was a good idea, but I got an invite to his Oktoberfest 2008 party! Do I have the best boss ever?!?!) In addition to the hippie allergy, I think part of the reason I am so sick is because I never fully recovered from the flu I had a month ago. I started feeling better, but was not completely better when I got back into my normal routine. I just get so frustrated being sick because I can't do anything! I hate just laying in bed doing nothing. I feel so unproductive. (Hmmm, so this is what it's like to be a hippie...IT IS SO NOT FOR ME!) Hopefully a few days of taking it easy and giving the meds time to do their thing will have me back to my normal self.

Doing it Up...PRP Style!

I have come to call Portland "the People's Republic of Portland" (or PRP for short...it sounds more like the People's Republic of China aka PRC or the Democratic Republic of Congo aka DRC that way. A bit more ominous/communist that way! I am SUCH a nerd sometimes!). It's a cute little nickname and completely fitting and descriptive of my sentiments towards the city. So, this was my first real weekend out in the PRP. First my mom was in town, then I started the Big Girl Job, and then I had a friend in town, then I was sick, then I was out of town (biz trip to the R-O-C, baby! More on that to come.) and then I got sick AGAIN!!! So this really was my first opportunity to do it up.

I have discovered a new partner in crime in the PRP. Her name is Brie and we met in yoga. (Okay, altogether now- awwww how cute!!!) It turns out Brie and I have a lot in common-

1. We both just moved to Portland

2. We are the same age AND have Big Girl Jobs

3. (Here is the kicker!!) We have both had trouble coming to terms with all the granola and hippies and tree-huggers in the PRP!!!

We instantly hit it off over our love of yoga, shopping, and the bar scene, as well as our mutual disdain for the PRP granola. We both love the city of Portland, but have experienced a bit of culture shock.

Saturday we decided to meet up for yoga. And there was this guy there who started hitting on us after class. His name is Scott, 35 years old, VP at Bank of America, and in the PRP for a wedding. He was super cute, but super short. The three of us hit it off. Then Brie and I went shopping. I got a pair of True Religions and two tops (a super cute blue one and a purple tee) at Nordy’s and a new yoga top at my yoga studio. To be honest, the only reason I bought the items is because the jeans were two sizes smaller than I normally wear and the tees where XSs. (I do not understand this because I weighed myself yesterday and I GAINED fucking ten pounds! But a lot of it is probably from all the drinking and salty food Saturday night.) And because I am vain and need to boost my self-esteem and inflate my already HUGE ego, it seemed like a valid reason to drop a few hundred dollars.

Then I went home and got some work done. (I am already working on the weekends...that is not a good sign.) That night Brie and I decided we needed a night of drinking. So we got all prettied-up and went bar hopping. I wore then new jeans and new blue shirt. It is not often I say this, but I did look super cute! And then we called Scott to come with us. Omg, Brie and I drank SO much! Well, I probably drank more than she did. I scammed some drinks off some guy at the first bar.

After the second bar, we went back to Brie;’s to change into flip-flops. I was wearing my red Stuart Weitzmans and experiencing a bit of pain due to a nasty blister. At the third bar (when we were getting French fries and chips and all sorts of bad crap) they cut us off. Fucking bastards! So we went to another bar! Hahaha! So, Scott turned out to be an asshole and just wanted to get me and Brie in bed with him. (He might have had a shot at one of us if he weren’t such an a-hole). And the two of us were totally getting hit by guys and Scott was pissed, but we didn’t care because he was a jerk.

Then the three of us went back to Brie’s and watched Juno. Of course I keep saying, “Eww I never want kids. I never want to be pregnant. I never want to get married.” And Scott keeps telling me, “You will be married with three kids within ten years.” I was ready to kick his ass! So by the time the movie is over is it 4:30am. We kick Scott out and I crash at Brie’s. I didn’t make it home until 10am the next day, and then I slept until 3pm. (On the proverbial "Walk of Shame" home, I received all sorts of interesting looks from the local hippie population that appeared to be congregating at some sort of art festival. This "art festival" consisted of all sorts of over-priced shit the hippies made.)

The only reason I woke up is because Brie called to go on a hike. Yes, that’s right. I went on a hike. I felt so crunchy granola, but we had a great time! It was so beautiful in the mountains...I think it was the most granola moment of my entire life. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't tell anyone! It just may ruin my hard-earned reputation as a materialistic bitch. And Scott kept calling us to say he wanted to get together after the wedding!!! LMAO!!!! Riiiiight!

After the hike we went to Whole Foods to grab dinner. Oh, and I thought my phone died because we got caught in the rain and it got so wet! But I was able to play God and brought it back to life! Yay me! I was proud of myself. So after WF I get this call from Brie. She has a hernia!!! After she dropped me at home she wasn’t feeling so good and stopped off at her girl friend’s, who is a doctor. And she has a fucking hernia! Poor girl.

Then because I played all weekend, I had a pretty low-key day yesterday. I gymmed, yogaed, and did some Xerox work. I fucking labored on Labor Day! Oh well. I didn’t mind. Oh, and I got my nails done. I have a super HUGE meeting Thursday with the EVP of Worldwide Marketing and I am scared shitless. I am getting my hair done tomorrow. So even if I have no idea what I am talking about, at least I will look good! And the EVP is French. So I intend on brushing up on my français to impress him. We shall see how that goes! Let's see what do I remember-

1. Voulez-vous couchez avec moi se soir? (Probably not the best phrase to use...or is it???

2. Merde! Basse-toi! (Of course, I remember swear words.)

3. Combien pour acheter cette joupe? (Shopping term.)

4. Je veux une autre biere, s'il ut plais! (I ALWAYS need another drink!)

5. Bonjour, comment ca va? Je suis si heureuse de vous rencontrer. (Ahh, yes! Something work-appropriate.)

When I am some place new where I don't know a lot of people, I develop this bad habit of throwing myself 110% into whatever is I am doing. School, internship, work, etc. This makes it harder and harder to meet people as I get sucked in deeper to the task at hand. Thankfully, my boss yells at me if I work past 5pm or on weekends.

Anyway, the trip to Raaaachester. This was my first business trip for my new job. I think it was very successful. I was in meetings with the East coast half of the marketing team, development team, product teams, and EVPs for ten hours a day for three straight days. It was exhausting, but went well. I also got to spend some time in Fairport see the fam! Yay! I met Laura's new boyfriend, who is nice and equally as hippie/granola as she is. I was able to see Anna before she went back to FIT. And, of course, I had some drunken nights with the parentals!

One of the more amusing events happened when I was on my way back from doing laundry at my parents' house. (Yep, just like in university I brought home a ton of dirty clothes!) I was in the elevator at the hotel. I was about to get off, when the eight year old boy with his dad goes to me, "Hey there, sexy lady! What's your name?" I look at him in disbelief. Thank god the door to my floor opened. I got off and burst into laughter! The two men who also got off asked me if that little boy said what they think he said. I managed to say yes.

One of the great things about the Big Girl Job is fucking flying first class, baby! Free alcohol AND the food doesn't suck!

What does suck is I got off the airplane in PDX sick. Turns out I have bronchitis, inflamed tonsils, AND an ear infection! What am I, like five years old again?!?! What 25 year old adult gets this shit?

What I Like About...ME!!!

I was recently sick. Nowhere near as bad as "The Flu That Almost Killed Me" (see blog entry from Sunday 11 November 2007 for detail), but pretty miserable none the less. I had to miss two days of work, which I was extremely upset about because I love my job and I love my boss and NEED to kick some fucking ass at marketing! But I could only get out of bed long enough to make it to the washroom. Although I slept for about 23 hours a day for five straight days (woken up by my mother's incessant phone calls to ensure I was alive. I contemplated not answering, but she told me if I did that she would either call the police to check on me or be on the next flight to Portland, so I left my phone on), when I was awake I had some time to think. I have spent most of my life thinking about what I don't like about myself and all the things I want to change. Now, I am not sure if it because I was delirious with a high fever or all drugged up, but for one of the first times in my life (other than when I was forced to by a therapist, psychiatrist, or some other -ist), I thought about the things I LIKE about myself! And because I went out for a drink after yoga with the one other non-granola girl in Portland I decided it would be a good idea to tell the world what I came up with!

1. I am a nerd!!!
There are not too my 25 year olds who have attended three of the top universities in the world (University of Toronto, Oxford University, and Pepperdine University...more to come!) and have been employed by two of the largest, most recognizable international companies (DaimlerChrylser and Xerox). That says something. I know a lot about a lot of different and weird things- multi-variable calculus, basic C++ and Java programming, international affairs, history, literature, etc. I know what acronyms like UN, NATO, EU, AU, OPEC, ADB, AEC, and G8 (which is my personal fav...don't even get me started!). I have a passion for East African politics, in particular when related to genocide. I can tell you everything about Rwanda. When in university, my fourth year I took all phD classes and for one wrote a dissertation on the American Response to the Genocide in Darfur, and what I thought it should be. I love to read. I have three large bookshelves filled with some of my favorites- Kurt Vonnegut, Philip Roth, Ayn Rand (my personal fav), and all sorts of text books.

2. I loooove cars!
Not too many girls know as much about cars as I do. Actually, not too many boys know as about cars as I do.

3. Style
I have a wicked sense of style (which is essential for any Bond Girl...I want to be a Bond Girl. But not the kind that dies and not a good one. I want to be evil! Mwuhahahaha!) Everyday, I construct my ensembles starting with the most important part- the shoes. I feel that the way a person dresses says so much about him or her. And I only want my clothes to say fabulous things about me!

4. I am close with my family.
Not many people can say this. I moved around a lot when I was growing up, so sometimes family was all you had.

5. I am Open-Minded
I don't judge, so my friends feel they can tell me anything and I will listen. I also feel that I can not say I like or dislike something until I have tried it, so I will try/do anything once. I love the feel of adventure! I also have no problem picking up and moving somewhere I have never been and do not know anyone. I have done this on more than one occasion and everything has worked out fine.

6. I Like Just Being Me
I do not feel like I need a boyfriend, or need to get married and have kids to bring meaning to my life. I like just being me. I can support myself (thanks to the Big Girl Job) and do not need to rely on anyone else for anything! I really love that feeling of strength and independence.

7. I am opinionated
Most people might say this is a bad thing. But I feel like in order to know yourself, you need to know what you like (and what you don't) and where you stand on issues.

8. I am starting to be comfortable with me
There are a lot of things I like and don't like about myself, but I am learning to accept them. I am becoming more and more comfortable with who I am as a person, even if others aren't.

I think that is it for now, kids. A lot of my thoughts were yoga-inspired (I just came from practice, via the bar, and may have been guzzling the yoga kool-aid...or I am drunk), but there they are! I think it is important to reflect on the positive because all too often we focus on the negative...wow, I am cheesy.

Top Five

Sometimes I wish I were a gay man. The other day I was thinking about all the hot gay famous men in this world. This could be because- 1) Portland has a high gay population and there are tons of good-looking men not interested in what I (or any other woman) have to offer, or 2) I have been watching waaaaaaay too much "Queer As Folk" these days (I was missing Toronto and bought the first two seasons of QAF. The show was filmed in the "Gayborhood" of T.O., where I lived for a while. It made me feel better to see some familiar sites!).

Here is my list of the top five HOTTEST gay men I wish I could fuck-

5. George Michael
Yes, I know he is ancient. But I saw some footage of his LA concert and damn, he still looks good! I am not normally attracted to singers, actors, models, etc (I got for the athlete...but there are not too many good-looking gay athletes), but George makes the cut. My dad has a very eclectic CD collection, so I grew up listening to Wham, believe it or not! Even as a little girl I thought George Michael was hot, even if he shorts were a little too tight and short.

4. Marc Jacobs
I am extremely attracted to ambition and success, especially at an early age. Just a few short years after graduating from Parsons, Marc had achieved success under his own label. In 1987 Jacobs was the youngest designer to have ever been awarded the fashion industry's highest tribute, the Council of Fashion Designers of America Perry Ellis Award for New Fashion Talent. In addition to his own Marc Jacobs label, he is the Creative Director for fashion house Louis Vuitton. Not only has he been able to grow the business for LVMH, he has expended his own label. At 45, Marc has done a lot! Oh, and his long-term domestic partner was a former prostitute! Gotta love controversy!! Oh, AND he's Jewish!

3. James Dean and Marlon Brando
There have long been rumors that these two actors were bisexual...so two reportly bisexual actors add up to number 3 on my list. Ahhhh, James Dean. I think part of the reason I love James Dean is due to his great accomplishments in such a short lifetime. And his passion for cars and racing. I am such a gear-head, so I find it appealing when guys share my love of automotive. And to die in such a spectacular car accident only adds to the allure. Two of my all-time favorite movies are the Godfather (I&II, which are basically one long story when watched back-to-back...Drop the gun, take the canolis) and Apocalypse Now (I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Smells like victory!). Although these movies were not in Brando's super sexy phase during the 1950s, they capture his raw talent.

2. Brian Kinney
Brian Kinney is Gale Harold's in "Queer As Folk," but Gale is straight in real life, so I have to go with Brian. QAF is like "Sex & the City" with gay men and a lesbian couple, and Brian is the Samantha equivalent. He has sex (and lots of it with lots of different men) for the sheer pleasure of having sex. Brian doesn't make excuses and looks out for his number one priority- himself (although he would never admit, he is always there for his friends). He is also has a hugely successful advertising career...brains are hot!

1. Tom Ford
I can barely say the name Tom Ford without getting all hot and bothered. Yes, he is another fashion designer out of Parsons who has achieved great things at an early age. He single-handedly turned around the Gucci and YSL labels before creating his own Tom Ford label. (The Tom Ford brand is especially successful when one considers it is MENSWEAR only! Aside from a recent expansion to include womens' eye and fragrances, his brand is one of the few focusing solely on a mens' line. Tres formidable!!) His creative abilities and business acumen resulted in a 90% sales increase in 1996. Not bad! Tom is also one of the most decorated designers of today in terms of awards and accolades. But his smokin' good looks and ambition is only part of why I like him...he is fucking cocky as hell! Now this man is absolutely full of himself. I loooove confidence in men and Tom Ford is the epitome of self-assuredness. When Rachel McAdams refused to strip down with Scarlett Johansson and Keira Knightly for the 2006 Vanity Fair cover he was shooting, Tom stepped in. Similarly, he has no problem using himself in ad campaigns for his brands. I want Tom Ford.

This blog entry has made me realize I need to STOP watching QAF and get out more. Good thing I have plans tonight! ;)

It's Called Chutzpah, Bitches

In the three weeks I have been in Portland, there have been a number of occasions when I have reverted to my former bitchy, East Coast alter-ego. But I don't look at it as me being mean or bitchy...I call it having the chutzpah to say what most people only think.

1. The Ram Incident
I wrote about this in my previous blog. I told some asshole in a Prius that I judge men on the size of their engine and his wasn't saying anything good about him.

2. Dependable Auto Shippers
The name of the company that shipped my Civic up is Dependable Auto Shipper. Dependable my ass! They were over a week late getting my car to me, and the bastards scratched and dented it up. I think the company should reevaluate the relevance of its name. Anyway, when some fucker from the company called me up to say they would be delivering my car the next day, I let him have it. I told him he had been come when it was convenient for me because to this point I was very disappointed by my experience. Buddy told me it wasn't his problem that DAS was slow and damaged my car! I said, "As an employee of DAS, it is your fucking problem, asshole! I am a customer and as a result I help your goddamn salary. Now, you are going to come and bring me my car tomorrow when I tell you to." And then he hung up on me. I called back (woohoo for caller ID) and asked to speak with his supervisor. I told her the story and said her underling better get my car to me at my convenience, or she'll wish he had. The next day the underling delivered my car and apologized.

3. The Rat
The next anecdote was one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen in my life. The People's Republic of Portland has a great public transit system (called TriMet) of trains, street cars, and buses. And they have a fareless area downtown, so I get to use it for free. So, I am on my way to yoga reading a "How to Ride the TriMet" brochure on a train. I look up and this girl has a fucking RAT perched on her should like a parrot or something! Ew ew ew ew! I wanted to vomit...it was so gross. And then the vermin started crawling all over her...ew ew ew ew!!!! I hate rats. I could not imagine having one as a pet, let alone allowing the filthy thing to touch me. I go back to reading the brochure, and there is a section on pets. Hmmm...how timely. It reads, and I quote, "Keep all animals in a pet carrier(except service animals)." Interesting. So I walk over to the girl and say, "Excuse me, but is that I seeing-eye rat? Are you visually impaired?" The hippie looks at me like I am insane and says no. I hand her the brochure and told her, "Put that goddamn fucking animal in a cage before I get you kicked off the train." Her jaw hit the floor and I continued on my way to yoga.

4. Yoga
I practice yoga. I prefer a more athletic style of power yoga. I like to get my ass kicked! If I don't sweat then I feel like I didn't work hard enough. I have been trying out different studios in hope of finding one that fits my needs. One of the classes I went to claimed to "an intense athletic practice for more seasoned yogis that is intended for those who are physically fit." I figured this would be a good class for me. I get there and it turns out to be an hour and a half of STRETCHING. I was pissed. So, I am standing there in natarajasanavinyasa (http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/936) feeling extremely frustrated. I must have been had some sort of look on my face because the instructor came over and asked if everything was okay. I said, "No everything is not okay. I just paid $20 for an hour and a half of stretching when I thought I was going to be taking an advance class. I would have burned more calories shopping. I would like my money and the hour and a half I wasted back." Yoga hippie did not like this and suggested if I thought I could do better, I could teach the class myself. I said, "Okay, move over and I will." This did not go over too big either, and I was asked to vacate the premises. Opps, guess I won't be going back there!

I would like to add the disclaimer that I do not normally behave like this and it is just an extension of my frustration with Portland. But, on a positive note, I am FINALLY starting to meet some people of the non-granola variety. I expect this to contribute to an improve attitude towards the city and a less chutzpah-like disposition.

Week One of the Big Girl Job!

I survived my first week as the Post Sale Services Marketing Manager for the Xerox Office Group! Yay! So far, I love the job and I love my boss. It is proving to be the complete opposite of my experience with Chrysler. My boss, Chris, has been so nice and helpful. He told me as long as I get my work done, he doesn't really care what hours I am in the office and when I work from home. At 5pm, he starts yelling at me to go home! This is such a nice change from my 80 hour weeks and 12-14 hour days with Billy Bob and Tiny Tim...those fucking pricks!

One thing Chris has been doing is expanding the scope of my job, which has me a bit worried. Chris has said he will do everything he can to help and mentor me, but his blind faith in my ability to accomplish the ever-expanding lists of tasks is scary, yet gratifying. I have already been added on to do some of the marketing for the highest profile printer launch in years! I am so excited to be added to this project after only a few days on the job. So far, it seems like everyone wants me to do some marketing for them. This position is a much a bigger and more important position in Xerox than I initially realized. It intimidates the shit out of me! My email inbox was filled with emails making marketing and meeting requests of me the first time I logged on...yikes!

Everyone I work with is very nice, but the youngest person is about ten years older than me. And they are a bunch of computer geeks. The office environment is much different than I am used to, which I think is a reflection of the laid-back mentality of the Portland area. I am still an up-tight East Coaster at heart! Chris has mentioned to me everyday that the facility has an extremely business casual dress code. I did show up on my first day looking like I was ready to kick some corporate ass! I always start with the most important element of an outfit when deciding what to wear- the shoes! I wore my Prada black patent leather stiletto Mary Janes, black Benetton skirt suit, and BCBG multi-colored tank top. The ensemble was completed with my black L.A.M.B. purse. Yes, this might have been a bit much, but you have to dress for the job you want, not the one you have...and I want Anne Mulcahy's job. And on the first day, I had to make a good impression. I want to maintain the bet-dressed/fashionista reputation I had at Chrysler. But on Friday, my boss was in cargoes and a Hawaiian shirt and his admin was in a tie-dyed dress! Welcome to Granola Country!

(At the end of the day Friday, Chris thanked me for me hard work. He told me to go shopping this weekend and spend my economic stimulus check! Hahaha, little does he know...but how well he knows me after only a week on the job. Am I that transparent?)

So, I am all unpacked for the most part. I still have some shopping to do to complete my new apartment. And my Honda Civic finally arrived...a week late. The shipping company paid for a rental, which I picked up before my first day of work. I get to Enterprise and the ONLY vehicle they had was a Dodge Ram! And it was not just any Ram...it was a 2500 4x4 Big Horn Edition. This means it had the Cummins Turbo-Diesel with the Quad Cab and extended bed. I almost died- Chrysler is still haunting me! This thing was huge. I have notice the law-abiding hippie citizens of Oregon drive the speed limit. I have always taken speed limits to be the absolute minimum velocity one should drive at. When the little compacts on the road saw me in the Ram driving 80 mph when they were going 55, they got the fuck out of my way!!!

I had some interesting experiences in the Evil Truck. The parking structure is in the basement of my building. As I was going down the ramp, all of a sudden I hear the horrible screech of metal-on-metal and the roof of the truck scraped against the ceiling! I freaked the fuck out and tried to back up. But a goddamn Prius was behind me and wouldn't back up. So I roll down the window of the Evil Truck to talk to the driver. He says to me, "That's a lotta truck for a little girl!" I tell him I judge men by the size of their engines, and the little fucking 2007 Prius with 70 horsepower was not saying much about it. I then told him to back the fuck up or I would run him over...I've got chutzpah, bitches! So buddy backed up.

I put the Ram into reverse and stepped on the accelerator. Instead of moving backwards, the tank lurched forward! I freak out some more and put my foot on the brake and try to quickly transition to the accelerator. next thing I know, there is smoke and the smell of burning rubber! Guess I did not transition fast enough, but it got me out of the structure. I hard to park on the street. The next morning two fucking hybrids boxed me in and it took ten minutes for me to maneuver out of the stop...fucking asshole from the ramp the night before probably called two of his tree-hugger buddies to seek revenge on me for questioning his manhood.

Portland has a profound, yet disturbing lack of good-looking men. (There is one prospect- the super hot barista at Starbucks that I see everyday before work. We'll see what happens with this one...more to come, hopefully. I always seem to develop crushes on my baristas. Oh, and the leasing manager told me someone is moving into the building and she thinks we'd be perfect...hmmm.) As always, all the crazies have found me! Each time I go in to Wholefoods some hippie hits on me. I have given out more fake phone numbers than I can count. On the way back from yoga, I was hit on three times in 15 minutes on the MAX Rail (Portland has this great public transit system):

1. Some asshole sees me with a yoga mat and asks if we could try out a few positions together back at his place.
2. The gay guy sitting next to me told me he loved my L.A.M.B. purse and then said I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He then said, "I am not into girls, I like boys. But If I did like girls, you'd be at the top of my list. What are you doing right now? Come back with me and try to get me to switch team."
3. As I was getting off, two guys whistled and asked me why I was leaving and said to get back on the train.

It is going to be interesting living here.

My Mom Was My Wingman...or Woman

I have been in Portland for a week today. It has been an experience. I am unpacked, by my goddamn car is not here yet..grr. And I want to make a Target run. But that is not the point. Girlfriend over her does not fit in. I am a label whore. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I have received numerous comments from individuals stating that I do not look like I am from from around here.

I have also gotten carded anytime I have purchased, looked at, drank, etc anything to do with alcohol. For a vain and egomanical 25 year old, this is a big deal and a very good thing! (LA has ruined me...sigh.)

My mom came to visit me and help me settle in. We had a great time! All I can say is the Oregon boys seem to like me. I have gotten plastered on a few occasions with them. Afterwards, a few select and lucky people have received a drunken text/email/phone call from me, which I apologize for (although I am a bit more than tipsy at the moment due to these encounters). I should not be allowed unsupervised anywhere near electronic devices for communication (or straight boys...but that is another story...hence the nickname DH)if I have been drinking .

Anyway, so back to my mom. I was hit on an incredibly large number of times in her presence. The moment we walked out of my building after she arrive a car full of guys drove by and one yelled, "Hey baby! Looking good!" Like they have never seen a girl before. Oy vey! But my mom and I had a great time shopping, drinking, and shopping and drinking. And now am the proud owner of:

2 Theory Blazers from Saks- one black and one white
1 LAMB purse
1 LAMB wallet to match the purse
1 Matty M aubergine scoop neck
1 Rue 22 white trench coat
1 C&C California ocean blue V-neck
1Full bathroom set of pink accessories
1 set of Cuisine Art silverware
1 set of Cuisine Art white square dishes

And all it cost me was a few grand. But it's okay because I am making fucking bank with the new Big Girl Job.

I find it so empowering to be able to go and buy for myself with my own money everything I want. If I see it and I like it, I buy it! Go me! And I am doing my part to help the economy by using my economic stimulus money from the tax return to help boost the retail sector. I am a good American capitalist. John Locke would be proud!

So, my mom was totally my Wingman. Her last night in town we went to this cute little Spanish restaurant recommended by the girls at Nordy's. The waiter was semi-attractive and I told him how I just move here from OC and my mom was visiting from New York. Buddy was totally macking on me in front of the parental! I asked him to write the name of the wine I was drinking down and totally score the digital. (Does anyone remember the song that goes "Can I get your number, baby? Hit me with the seven digits!)

Mommy says to me, "Well, I am glad I wasn't a C-block for you." I look at her in disbelieve. She goes on to say, "You know what I mean, right? A cock-block." I tell her I know what she means, but am shocked she does. I said, "No, you are an excellent Wingman. Or in this case Wingwoman." This phrase she does not know and I must explain. She then proceeds to text my dad and to tell him she is my Wingman! Daddy texts back, "Happy hunting!" I wanted to die...I wanted to die even more after I realized hottie waiter overheard the whole thing! Lucky me. Like he will want me to call him after.

I had been advised of the high lesbian to straight girl ratio by the lovely Sharon. (Not that I have anything against people of alternative lifestyles. Some of my best friends play for the other team. Being a "Samantha" I categorize myself as a try-sexual (I will try anything once), I am an open person, but when it comes down to it I do LOOOOVE the boys!) I have had a number of close encounters of the lesbian kind. I have been approached a many instances in the week I have been here by a few women. But it is not the first time. When I lived in the "Gayborbood" in TO I was always being hit on by girls . Typically the Lipstick Lesbian is attracted to me, but in Portland they seem to express adoration for me. This is something new.

Well, seeing as it is Sunday already, I do start my new job tomorrow. I am the Post Sale Service Marketing Manager in the entire FUCKING world for the Office Group at Xerox. This is a big, huge job. Let's hope I do not mess it up. I did a lot of shopping this week and have lots of bills to pay.

The Foreign Country of Oregon

I am now living in Portland, Oregon. I feel like I am in a foreign country, or something. When I first moved to SoCal, I felt that way, too. So, maybe I am just now returning to what really is the United States. As much as I love Cali, it is like no place else in the world in both good and bad ways. I HATE the Hollywood/celebrity bullshit. I have an intense dislike for the traffic, exorbitant prices of everything, and skewed values system. But I love the weather, the beaches, the shopping, and the boys! And now I am Oregon. With all the hippie tree huggers. I have turned into a SoCal girl and wonder if Miss Materialistic over here with her tan, blonde hair, and blue eyes will fit in. The city was name the second greenest city in the world, and first in the United States. In other words, it really is the Granola Capital. I have never seen so many fucking Priuses in my life! But there are some great things about living in Hippie-ville I have discovered. You can walk everywhere! And there is free public transit downtown. And it is beautiful and lush and green. Things are reasonably priced. People are nice and friendly. And, as mentioned before, NO SALES TAX! I arrived in Portland Saturday afternoon after not going to sleep Friday and two straight weeks of drinking. I was going fucking insane not working and not being a productive member of society, that I regained the social life I so desperately missed under the Wrath of Chrysler. I meet up with friends, hit South Coast, sat by the pool, and drank...a lot. It's not like I had anything better to do! Anyway, so needless to say, I was exhausted when I finally got here. The movers were not coming to deliver my belonging for another day. I went for a run and explored Portland a bit. I am not sure if I like Portland yet (I think I do, but it has only been like two days!), but the Portland boys seem to like me! The number of catcalls and whistles I got made me wonder if these boys had ever seen a female before, let alone on in a skirt and tank top. I wasn't even in my apartment building for five minutes and I got two invites for drinks. Of course, because I am a magnet for the weirdos, they were not the type of guys I would want this attention from. Why can't the normal ones go for me?!?! So I stocked up on Corona and the first season of Entourage. I fell asleep reading on the floor by 10pm...I'm cool like that. And yesterday the movers came! Yay! I discovered almost all my boxes were labeled clothes, handbags, or shoes. I am not sure what that says about me, but there were also a number labeled books, so I do not feel so shallow. I decided I need to get rid of some of the Corona and started drinking. I hadn't eaten and already gone for a run, so I became slightly inebriated quickly. The initially zest for unpacking soon waned, and productivity plummeted. But I still made some progress. The first thing I had to unpack was the shoe collection. My new apartment has this wonderful little closet (I think it is supposed to be a coat closet) that just so happens to be the perfect size for my shoes...talk about a sign from above that this apartment is meant for me! I thought I had unpacked all my babies, when I realized my pair of tri-colored suede Stuart Weitzmans were missing. I freaked the fuck out. This mission took hours to complete (and productivity sky-rocketed...yes, I know, I am MBA super nerd). I had to open EVERY single goddamn box and found it one that was labeled clothes! Clothes! Shoes are not clothes- they are the life-giving essence of my existence...well, maybe not, but I love them.

I have been reunited with my shoes, but my apartment is a big huge mess. It is bad. There are boxes, packing material, and clothes everywhere. But it will be okay.

It is weird to be in a city where I do not know one person. Moving to Toronto and Oxford, and then Malibu for school was different because we were all in the same boat, starting a new shared experience. There was a group of interns in France waiting for me when I arrived. OC was close enough to LA that I could drive up every weekend. This time, I do not have any of that. I am really here...on my own...with no one. This will be an adventure!

Everything Happens For a Reason...

After thirteen months of bullshit and hell, I had enough. I was not happy with my job at Chrysler. So, rather than sitting around on my ass, complaining about how things suck, I did something about it! And that something was find a new job. And not just any new job, but my fucking DREAM job. I will be doing international b2b marketing for Xerox...and moving to Portland, Oregon!

I am so excited. I went up to Portland this week to look at apartments. I signed a lease for this adorable (but tiny) studio right downtown. Everything I need is within a mile of my new place- yoga, gym, Nordy's, Tiffany, Whole Foods...all the essentials! And there is a great public transit system that is FREE! And in Oregon, there is no sales tax AND they pump your gas...it's, like, the law. Does it get any better?!?!

As for my time with Chrysler, I feel that I learned a lot about how to deal with people and difficult situations. I also made some wonderful friends. I think that everything in life is temporary- the good and the bad. The only thing you can do is look for the positive in the bad and take it as a learning experience, knowing it will pass. And all you can do is enjoy the good and cherish it, but it is temporary and will pass, too. I also think that things happen for a reason, although it may not always be apparent right away. If I had not had the events of my life happen, I would not have gotten this new job. The three largest factors (aside from my INCREDIBLE personality) that helped me get this job were my MBA, Xerox internship, and Chrysler experience. I have been second-guessing my decision to go straight from university to grad school, and my decision to take the Chrysler job. But the MBA got me the internship and helped get me the Chrysler job. Without all these things, I would not have gotten a second look from Xerox. Also, even though I bitched and complained about the Civic, now I am SO glad I had a gettaway car!

When I put my two weeks notice in, Tiny Tim was the big fucking asshole that he is, and told he didn't want me in the office those two weeks and to leave right away! Legally, they have to pay me for those two weeks, as well as any unused vacation. So, to start off my two-week paid vacation by going straight to South Coast Plaza! I bought two pairs of shoes- Prada and Manolo Blahnik. I totally deserve it!

Blondie is Freaking the FUCK Out!

I am one stressed girl!



I have some monetary concerns. I still have my stupid Honda Civic, even though I get a car for free via good ole Walter P. Chrysler. I am just wasting money on it each month, and it kills me! If you or someone you know is interested in a 2006 Civic with 12,000 miles, let me know! I also have HUGE amounts of student loans...this takes up most of my income...more than rent...more than my clothing/shoe budget.

I did just get a small bonus at work and a gigantic tax return, so things are a bit better. Of course, I had to go spend some of that on something ridiculous. And that something is the most heavenly pair of Chanel sunglasses. They are gorgeous! I wore them into work and one of the dumbass boys goes, "They just like your other pair!" I almost introduced my stiletto heel to his colon for that remark. Then I bough another pair of Stuarts.

Work and the dumbass boys are another source of stress. They do nothing and I work my little tuchis off. They are treated like the best thing since the antilock brakes, and I am treated like bubkis! I am sick and tired of working with a bunch of stupid, old, WASPy men. One day, I am going to snap if things don't change. And it will be bad. People won't use the expression "going Postal" anymore, they will say "going Chrysler." Well, I am exaggerating there, but a girl can only take so much crap before she cracks!

Recently I moved to the Newport Beach-Costa Mesa area. Perfect location- far from my crazy ex-landlord, close to work, close to the beach, and VERY close to South Coast! But one roommate has the most fucking annoying cat in the world! For whatever reason, the roommate will not de-claw or spay the cat. (She claims she wants the cat to be able to defend herself and experience the joy of motherhood, yet it is an indoor cat and my roommate has stated she would never want to take care of kittens...interesting.) I am allergic to cats...because I am allergic to everything. And I hate cats. So this fucking cat LOVES me! I keep my bedroom door close to keep the flea bag out, and she paces outside waiting for me to open it! When the door opens, she jets under my bed or in my closet, out of reach.

The weight I gained when I was at home in December does not want to leave. No matter what I do, I can not lose it. It is driving me IN-FUCKING-SANE!

Stuart Weitzman, How I LOVE Thee

I finally bought a pair of Stuart Weitzmans, as seen above. This is a very momentous occasion in my life...a milestone, if you will. As those close to me know, I have a shoe fetish. I spent waaay too much on them, but at least they were on sale and I am supporting a Jewish designer. (I really should have bought new runners...but instead I felt I NEEDED stilettos. And yes, I told the salesman that I NEEDED the shoes when he asked he he could help me.) I feel that a person's shoe tell a lot about him or her, and thus must be chosen with great care. In the words of Cher Horowitz in the movie Clueless, "You see how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet!"



What do your shoes say about you??



Running shoes- show athleticism

Loafers/slip-ons- indicative of laziness (note: this does NOT include flip-flops)

Flip-flops- lover of the beach and warm weather

Kitten heels- lack of style and desire to be trendy (ewwww, I HATE these shoes)

Stilettos- strong and independent

Uggs- follower and lack of self-knowledge (unless actually worn after surfing)

Square heel or toe- stiff and frigid

Pointy toe- low bullshit tolerance

Sandals with socks- complete and utter indifference to appearance

Brightly colored- center of attention

High-heeled boots- take-no-prisoners attitude

Work boots- industrious

Winter boots- practical



My Stuart Weitzmans are pointy toed brightly colored stilettos. Using the above definitions, these shoes say I am an attention-getting, strong and independent person who does not take any crap. Pretty accurate, I'd say!

I Have No Time

Here are my delayed New Years Resolutions:

1. Appreciate the wonderful people and things I have in my life.
2. Be happier with myself as I am.

…3. Lose the ten pounds I gained at home. (Come on, everyone knew this one was coming.)





I know that I have not written in my blog in a long time, like over a month or something, but I am a busy girl! Work is insane, and I am convinced my boss is getting eviler by the day! (Is eviler a word? Hmmm…) The week before our corporate holiday in December, I needed up in the emergency room twice! As many people know, I am allergic to just about everything- peanuts and wheat are the big food ones and are in almost everything (this makes my life very difficult, but very easy to eat healthy). The list also includes pollen, dust, mold, cats (I HATE cats, but they seem to LOVE me! It’s like they can sense the hatred and symptoms they will cause and flock towards me. They are disgusting animals. The whole litterbox and furball things totally gross me out!), rabbits, polyester and other synthetic fibers, etc. I like to say I am allergic to cheap things because when you think about it, all the things I am allergic to are cheap! Peanuts are the cheapest nut, although they are technically not a nut because they grow in the ground, and bread and pasta are cheap and they are made of wheat. Polyester is cheap, not to mention hideous. Cats are cheap- they give the fucking things away at the humane society!

Anyway, back to my evil boss and the ER. I must have ate something I am allergic to Sunday night, because the next Monday I woke up and was completely covered in hives! I let Billy Bob Butthead know I was going to the ER, and he got mad and gave me a laundry list of shit to do before the end of the day. I told him I would do the best I can. At the hospital, they drew blood and ran tests, and gave me some IVs of steroids, antihistamine, and pepsid. I was told to go home. When I got to work, asshole did not ask how I was, but reviewed the laundry list. The next day I woke up even worse! I called Billy Boy and he told me to hurry up at the hospital. I went back to the ER and went through the same drive, except this time in addition to all the other drugs I got some epinephrine! Holy shit, I felt like Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction! I thought my fucking heart was going to jump out of my fucking chest! Then they gave me some prescriptions for steroids and pepsid, and told me to go home…but I went to work instead…again. When I got in, Bill was upset that I was late again and wanted to know what I had gotten done that day. I said, “Bill, I have severe food allergies and have been in the hospital the past two days. I am doing the best I can.” He said, “Well, I have a bad cold, but I am still here!” The nerve of that bastard! So I was like, “I am here against doctors’ orders for the second day. With all the drugs in my system, I could get a DUI if I were pulled over. Give me a break- I am doing the best I can.” Then he felt me alone. All during that week, I received so many comments about how no one could believe I came into work, how I looked like hell, and what an ass my boss is.

Okay, enough complaining! I went home to the F-port for the holidays!!! My sisters were home, so it was great to see them and my parents. But what a time getting home! All of my flights there and back were delayed, AND my luggage was lost! That was not so fun, but it was so nice to be home. The lack of clothing in New York gave me the excuse to buy the pair of Hudsons I have been pining over, so it was a blessing in disguise! Two of my best friends in the whole world came to visit! Leslie is one of the only people I still talk to from high school. We lived in the same neighborhood in Fairfax, VA. I did her English and World Studies homework…why, I am not sure. She stopped by on her way from Canada to North Carolina- she goes to Duke for her PT Doctorate. And Emmers the Great came for NYE!!! My parents held their annual “Bingo Bash” and she just could not miss it. (I know, Bingo sounds lame, but not when it is played Kleiman Style! This involves copious amounts of alcohol and delicious food and more copious amounts of alcohol. Our neighbors, friends, and family gather to eat, play Bingo, and get drunk off our asses! It is a lot of fun, although my Aunt Sylvia takes the game very seriously so my parents have to rig it so she wins at least one round.)

January was a blur. It went by too fast. I worked super long hours, and how only been out drinking like three times! This is practically an all-time low for me. I have been going to yoga a lot. It is great for building lean muscle mass…and I am in love with my yoga instructor. For once, I find a hot, straight, male, yoga instructor! And he is so nice and always notices when I am stressed and actually cares enough to try to help! Unfortunately, he is married with a baby. Boo. But now I have even more motivation to practice yoga, which can’t be a bad thing. This just furthers my theory that I am the only single person in Orange County.

A Day in the Life of Sara- wake up, gym, work, yoga, sleep. Repeat. Even on weekends. I missed one of my best friends birthdays in SD because of this. It sucks.

Honestly, my parents are the cutest and happiest couple I know. Recently, my dad bought my mom a brand new E350 4matic with the Sport Package (with some help from my corporate discount). This car is HOT! Silver with black interior, and so much fun to drive. It has ever option known to Mercedes-Benz and is the safest car on the road. This past Friday, my mom was in a horrible car accident. The weather was horrible, but she still went to the gym! (Neuroticisms about the gym and exercise run in the family.) She was on her way home and a teenage girl WITHOUT her night license driving in the opposite direction spun out and my home hit her. My mom was in shock and unable to get out of the car until help arrived. By some act of above, my mom and the girl were okay. But my poor mother was alone! I am in Cali, my dad was in Europe for business, Anna was in NYC for school, and Laura was out! The accident was about two minutes from home, and the police had to give her a ride. I am so incredible thankful my mom is okay, but I feel so incredibly guilty that I was not there for her! I was the first person she called, which was so touching, but I wanted to be there. I wish I could have been there to drive her home and keep her company. But in true Kleiman fashion, she hopped in the tub with a bottle of wine to relax! My dad got back the next day and she is fine, so it is not so bad. But still, I feel guilty. I feel like a bad daughter and friend for being so far away.

I am a nerd. I am more excited about Super Tuesday than the Super Bowl! As a marketing dork, I like watching the Super Bowl for the commercials. It is interesting to see the different approaches companies take to see an ROI and the 30-second $3 million investments. The most popular approach is humor with a celebrity. My personal favorite is from a few years ago. It was the Dove commercial for the “Campaign for Real Beauty.” This ended up to be a controversial commercial because it caused many fathers to reevaluate their relationships with their daughters and seen as too deep for the Super Bowl. But I love the message. Anyway, Super Tuesday! I am not as excited about Super Tuesday as I was a week ago. This is because my man Rudy is out of the race. Who was the dumbass who came up with that strategy?!?!?! I could have done better! I love Rudy and so do most people from New York. We love him about as much as we hate Hilary! Now I have no one to support. This sucks. I need to find someone to back. I hate all the candidates. During the last national election, my sister Anna didn’t like anyone. So, she wrote in Oprah’s name. Maybe I will still vote for Rudy. Or me! I could vote for me! Wait, you have to be thirty-five to run for President. Damn it!