Love to Hate ? Melting. And People Want To Study Me.

I was thinking about what it would be like to no longer be a 'transplant.' Nomad. Wanderlust is always at the back of my brain.

Makes me wonder, do I love to hate L.A ? Hmm. But doesn't everyone hate LA ?

I think 99% of the people posting ads up on craigslist need to go back to school. Or high school English, at least. You know, the kids that got left behind. They kill the "they're, their, there" efforts of schoolteachers. What happened to this generation? Venga, gente! Spell check much?

Stay in school, kids. So people won't question if you know English when you're an adult.

This Mission, IF You Choose To Accept It.It's a ridiculous thought, but occurred to me that joining the work force after college brings you into another world that people don't talk about. Well - the dark side is what people don't tell you about. Someone offers you a mission to begin an era known as "working stiff." This is what you are to do (but no one talks about it):

1. Trust No One. Not a single person.
2. Form Allies.
3. Stand Your Ground.
4. Brace for Attack.
5. Play the Game. Or Die.

Melting
So. Hot. The hot apartments on my side of the hill are getting stuffy, and boy, does the summer bring the blood to a boil.

At least I don't have to attempt to blast 'Beat It' from my room to repel the hacking, yakking, cigarette-smoking old dudes. Didn't work anyway.

Patience is wearing a bit thinner these days, or is it just me? Everyone blasting their air conditioning from their homes and their cars and kicking up the temps higher outside can't be much help.
There a couple arguing in Armenian in the apartment next door last week. Screaming at the top of their lungs in Armenian so I have no idea what the argument was about. Neighbors started to look out their windows. Another onlooker walked over to see what the fuss was - or maybe it was to make sure they didn't end up killing each other ?

Thank God I've moved to an apartment with central air. And Casita Taco next door. (Now, to finish unpacking the boxes before Christmas...)

The Sleep Study
So with all this chronic fatigue and the stamina of an 80 year old woman, I've had the second doctor's opinion. And then decided to drop my usual suspects and find a new doc altogether. UCLA is quite amazing. [America's Best Hospitals: the 2009-10 Honor Roll]
And thank goodness I have insurance this year. Who knew ? There are doctors out there that are thorough, and actually listen ? No one tells you how much digging it takes to find a doctor that is knowledgeable and conscientious and trustworthy.

The conclusion was stress, or, one of those phases of twentysomethings that have been known to pass. It's been over four months so we will see. But for now, I really do like to be in bed by 10 or 11pm. I fade fast. I'm awake, friends, and can hang out, but for a limited time only...

The other doctors that I have decided not to see anymore did leave on one last referral - that I go in to a lab for a sleep study - to rule out the possibility that it is a sleeping disorder of kind, i.e. sleep apnea; basically trying to rule out if it is the quality of the sleep that I'm getting which is making me so tired.

So I'm going in to a lab for a sleep study next week - this is where doctors have all these wires hooked up to you and they check their various monitors while you sleep there for the night. I know - it really does exist!

No - I'm not getting paid. But if the opportunity presented itself, I suppose I would do it full-time. Wouldn't you ?

Oh, the places you'll go

Western Bagel. My cup o' joe and chocolate chip bagel, and breakfast is done for less than three bucks. I glance over at the five elderly coffee buddies sitting and chatting, with a leisurely air about them. That's good, these gentlemen have friends and hobbies - and can get out of the house. Although it is a bit early for a friends' coffee gathering.

The alley behind my garage. This is when a little birdie told me that my ancient apartment building has had problems - rat problems, which prompted the trimming of the trees on our street, since apparently rats were jumping off of trees and onto our building. I'm sorry, what were we talking about? Just reeling from that disturbing mental image. Oh, right. There has been no mention to them of replacing the piping system in our building, or the hot water pressure problem. Apparently they have had problems with getting various repairs completed by the owners and management also.

Building number one, let's call it the Marshall building. I report for my temp gig twenty minutes early at the parking garage. They tell me I should go to the next garage down, let's call this one, Ray of Sunshine.

Ray of Sunshine's garage. I pull up to the gate and the attendant tells me I need to enter through the other side of the garage. She makes a call to the other gate's attendant and he informs her that I should be on Level P2. She lets me in and I finally find a parking spot on P2. I walk over to the elevators and the garage attendant sees me and steps out to find out where I'm going. He indicates that I shouldn't be here but over at the Apex building. I make a call to the agency and fill them in. I take a seat on the planters facing the elevators and wait.

Still sitting on the planters. They've checked all their records and everything has listed the initial Marshall building location. I then get back in my car and leave the parking garage (after a flustered search for the exit).

Back at the Marshall parking garage - there the attendant tells me that all the spaces are reserved, so I'm probably supposed to park somewhere else. I then get another call indicating that I should be in the Apex building.

Olive parking garage. I get off the elevators and make my way through the courtyard to the building.

Third floor. After walking down the hallway and circulating the whole floor, I find that none of the suites on the third floor indicate where the company is located. The nice enough employee in one of the suites there finds out that I should be in the other building across the courtyard, the Apex Dos building. I check with the security guard outside that I am, in fact, going in the right direction.

Apex Dos. I finally make it to the building for today's destination. In the lobby, I check in with the security guard and she issues me a pass.

The third floor suite, which the company has full reign over, has finally found its way to me and I check in with the receptionist and she shows me to my desk for the day. Oh, temping.

Three parking garages. Three parking attendants. Two security guards. And it's not even 10:00am. At least I had breakfast.


Some names may have been changed to protect the identity of...well, I guess my whereabouts. But who cares? I mean, nobody in Hollywood wants me dead yet.

COTW and Working Woes

There's the good and the bad. I always like hearing bad news first, so..

Working Woes
Getting my 9-to-5 off my chest.

Her: Slide it into this envelope here, like this. That’s what you’re gonna do for this stack right here.
Me (internally): I’m sorry, I don’t speak moron. I got a ridiculously high score on my SATs, so I’m probably incredibly smarter than you’ve ever been, and I’m a two-time regional spelling bee champ. Why are you speaking so loudly? Shut the hell up. I’m standing right next to you – use your 12 inch voice. I guess you were ATD in school, huh.
Me (verbally): Okay, I’ll take care of it.

At least it’s all just temporary. I can’t be the only genius brain with a passion for writing whom is stuck doing unnoticed, unfulfilling work all day. I mean, there must be others out there, right?

I wonder how many minutes or hours of work the average person accomplishes on a given day. Seriously. I am amazed that what I’m doing can substantially constitute a person’s full-time, salaried position. It’s just not busy enough. I have caught up on my trades and emails, and trying not to be sitting here reading a book since it seems a little faux pas. The value of mental stimulation – is definitely underrated. Hard to be upbeat and creative when you’re stuck in a white cubicle.

Crush-Of-The-Week
For this week’s edition of COTW, I decided to forego the fully developed crush profile. There are numerous individual qualities that boost a gentleman’s attractiveness factor (beyond the fundamentals of having a sense of humor, being passionate, articulate, intelligent, etc.). Here are a few that came up this week:

British accents.

Ugly Christmas sweaters. (Yeah, I know. But still.)

Argyle. Who doesn't love a person in touch with their inner preppy?

Tattoos. Depend on type and size, of course. Something about an individual willing to commit a permanent marking on their own body for a lifetime. (Outside of the world of laser surgery, of course.)