schedule girl

Also meant to mention that I have "officially" scheduled the Sideways party for June 11 at 9 p.m.

There will be drinking of wine, eating of cheese, watching of Sideways and other such fun.

And Melvin and I are going to see VNV Nation on the 14th.

Too much fun for one week!

Edited to say: Sideways party now "officially" scheduled for the 18th of June as Melvin's going-away party needed to be the 11th. It's all a bunch of party, people, so I don't want to hear any complaining...

3 mile coffee

And now here is a blog entry actually related to my profiley thing.

Yesterday after my parents left, acting on my newfound (via cheering for Jeff in the Flying Pig) knowledge that I could walk to the Starbucks on Marburg, I decided I would try walking there and back. I say try but really it was more of a do, as what are my other options? Collapse on the sidewalk? Sleep at Starbucks?

The Starbucks on Marburg is 1.5 miles away (I know this because I tracked it with my car pre-FP). The walk there kind of sucked because it was still a little hot (yet not hot enough to lay by the pool with my book instead, which would have been my other option), but I made it, hung out for awhile and then walked back.

No, I didn't collapse on the sidewalk. My legs were a little tired, though, but it was a good, Maybe-I-Burned-Off-Some-Of-That-Derby-Pie-From-Taste tired.

So now I have a dilemma.

Prior to this I had been going to Awakenings. I like the pseudo-Europeanness of Hyde Park Square, I'll admit, and also the pseudo-Europeanness of Awakenings, as well as the fact that it's a local chain.

But I like the idea of being able to walk to a coffee shop, although in this case there's about an hour of walking, round-trip. If it hadn't been hot out, maybe I could have kicked it into old Kent State Why-Did-I-Schedule-These-Freakin-Classes-All-The-Way-Across-Campus gear, and then it would have been less time.

So do I walk to the Starbucks, which is a bigger, nicer Starbucks, but yet still the big chain, or do I drive to Awakenings, which is not so good on the exercise end? Maybe I will just let weather dictate things. Such as, if today were not a holiday, I would go to Awakenings because it's all drippy and nasty and wet. Yep, I think that's the ticket.

This would all be fixed if the Blue Manatee coffee shop Kelly told me about pans out. *fingers crossed*

I just have this fear that a coffee shop associated with a children's bookstore will be overrun with little kids stamping around and throwing smoothies everywhere. Maybe this fear is unfounded. How many parents are going to stop at a coffee shop with their kids, seriously?

This close to Hyde Park? Probably a lot.



wax, wax, and more wax

If you were ever wondering how to get mass amounts of candle wax out of a carpet, the solution is to first scrape off the excess wax. Betty Crocker types would use a putty knife. Normal people can substitute with a butter knife.

Next, plug in your iron and lay down a sheet of paper towel, then a paper bag (if it becomes clear you are not going to melt your floor you can forgo the paper bag). Iron over the paper bag, removing the paper towel when it becomes saturated with wax. Repeat, 50,000 times.

You can speed this process along by using a hair dryer to help melt the wax if it's hardened. However, don't use the hair dryer on a really high setting or you will melt the carpet. And you WILL melt the carpet.

Of course, if you are like me you do not really wonder about this until the three-wick candle you were burning suddenly lets loose and dumps half a gallon of wax on the floor.

Thank goodness my carpet already looked like ass. I've got it mostly cleaned up, although it's a little stiff in places and also fused together in a couple spots from the melting. Considering that half a foot away there's paint all over the carpet from the shoddy-ass paint job they did, I don't think it's going to matter. Also, because I also used my steamer in this process for some of the final clean-up, that spot is WAY cleaner than the rest of the floor. I'll have to tromp on it or something.


rock lobster

I've decided that I should be in charge of development for Oakley Square. Or maybe dictator of Oakley Square. This would allow me to say, "you, frame shop, will merge with one of the other bazillion frame shops in Hyde Park and free up some space." Then I would put a coffee shop in there. And kick out some other places for cute little clothing stores or something.

In other news, I really, really, really should have applied sunscreen before football. My arms are pink. Oops.

Also, I arrived home to find the two CDs I ordered used from Amazon.com ouside my door. Awesome! Except one of them is not remotely close to what I ordered. Now I'm pissed, because I got all excited and thought I was going to be able to listen to it, and now, not so much. The whole thing smells sort of scammy, too. Like, the paper with my Darren Emerson Global Underground CD listed on it was inside the CD. So whoever packed it had to take the paper that says one thing, and put it in something completely different, and then ship it off. Did they think I would not notice that I got some crappy singer-songwriter compilation instead of my techno? I emailed the seller, guess I will see what they say. At least I'm protected by Amazon, no matter what happens.

Today I think I spent most of the overtime I racked up this week at work. This includes the original Star Wars trilogy (it was on sale at Target!), which I now want to see again after watching Episode III yesterday (which was great...definitely much better than the first two).

I also ordered Sideways used from Amazon, which would be phase one of the Sideways party. I'm thinking first weekend in June. This means I should update the calendar. Argh.



Am feeling much better, but I think given the choice between current work stress and previous food sickness, I'd pick the food sickness.

On the list of things I've meant to blog about but haven't gotten around to, with apologies to anyone who likes the song:

I like a lot of Gwen Stefani/No Doubt, but I really don't think I can actually classify her new song as music. I think it would have to have...musical things...in it for that to be true. It's just a lot of her yelling and people stomping. I've listened to it a few times now, waiting for the music part to kick in, but it just never does.

There is that little bit of bass line that sounds like it's been ripped from Cups, but I don't think it was, as Cups is one of the sexiest songs of all time (best. transition. ever!), and Hollaback Girl is pretty much its polar opposite.



So what I thought was mild food sickness? That was phase one.

Yes, I was the girl in Hyde Park Kroger with 3 bottles of Pepto and umpteen cans of chicken broth. Oh yes, and a case of ginger ale.


definitely not a high roller

I am back from Vegas...finally. Drive back from Indy is a real killer when you're tired.

The trip was mostly good, wedding was beautiful. Among the high and lowlights:

1. Despite the fact that I had calculated out when I needed to leave for the airport at Indy, taking into consideration their freakish inadherance to daylight savings time, using timeanddate.com, when I left the apartment Thursday morning I got it into my head that they were an hour ahead and there was, therefore, no possible way I would be able to get to the airport in time for my flight. I figured that I would arrive at about 7 a.m. - my flight was at 7:05. Not so good. I sped to the airport, walked in the front doors at 7:10, figuring I had missed my flight, totally stressed out. I went to do e-ticket check-in, not knowing what else to do. I figured I could (hopefully) change my flight there. Looked at the e-ticket screen: 5:10 a.m. I am such an idiot. Needless to say, I did not miss my flight.

2. Vegas is huge. Yeah, duh. But seriously, I did not realize the full magnitude of it from TV/movies. Like, the buildings just look like buildings. But then you get there and those buildings are like a bazillion stories tall and a mile wide. We stayed at the Golden Nugget, which was downtown, but me and my friend Sarah took a bus out to the strip. We started at New York, New York and ended up walking all the way down to Wynn. Which was, we learned later, insane. But the buildings are so big you have this off depth perception, and it's all, "we can totally walk to the Venetian!" It was really cool to see some of the casinos. The theme ones were kind of fun, but I think my favorite was the Bellagio. It was really pretty and classy. We didn't go in Wynn, but I heard mixed reviews on it from others who did.

3. I thought it was interesting that they had a city ordinance that from every point in Las Vegas, there has to be a Starbucks within spitting distance. Seriously.

4. I gambled a bit. By a bit, I mean like $5. In the penny slots. In and amidst the strip walking, we stopped to feed a few slots, but that got boring really quick. It's like, wait, I just put my money in here and play this sort-of-but-not game, and keep feeding it dollars? Windows solitaire is more fun than this shit, and it's free. Maybe Microsoft should make slot machines. Then you could totally hack them and steal money. They should make a whole Microsoft casino. And put a McDonalds and a WalMart in there. They could call it the Evil Palace.

5. Spent Friday before the wedding by the pool and then in the spa with a book (Oryx and Crake...holy pacing issues, Batman). Definitely much more my idea of a vacation. Got moderately tan, which was good. The sun there is really scary -- I got in the pool and then the shade when I could feel myself baking.

6. We took a party bus from the hotel down the strip to the wedding chapel. Pretty wild. I've only now been in one Vegas wedding chapel, so I can't really gauge, but I thought this one was nice, especially compared to some of the places we passed along the way. Heh. As I said before, the wedding was short, but beautiful. Not without light moments, too, like when the preacher was talking about a rainbow, and what's at the end of a rainbow. We're all like, uh, a leprachaun? A box of Lucky Charms?* But anyway, my friend Katherine looked really beautiful, and I'm so happy for her and Eric.

7. Somewhere along the line, I apparently picked up a mild case of food poisoning. Woke up at about 3 a.m. this morning and did. not. feel. good. at. all. I've felt mildly nauseous all day, even after the worst of it passed. I bought the world's smallest bottle of Pepto at the hotel for $6 (ironic, considering that I ate at the hotel all Friday). Then I got hungry at the airport and decided to try a Cinnabon and coffee. Remember how I said that I am an idiot? Yeah. Not a good idea. So then I wandered around trying to find some ginger ale, because that was about the only thing I thought I could stomach. But all the little grab-random-crap-before-you-fly stores only had water. WATER! That's it! Then I passed an airport bar and thought, "they will totally have ginger ale there!" They did not. What kind of BAR doesn't carry GINGER ALE? In an AIRPORT? I did finally get some on the plane.

8. Speaking of airports, I have to hand it to McCarron. I gave myself three hours from hotel to flight time, partly because of the Indy scare, but also because people said it was a bigger airport and it might take a long time to get through security. Nuh uh. It took an hour to get from the hotel (via shuttle, not cab) to my gate. Now, this might change later in the day as it get busier, but I was impressed. Big airports don't screw around with stuff -- there were a lot of people that needed to go through security, but they had a ton of lines. And they didn't do stuff the smaller airports do, like make you take off your shoes, no matter what shoes you're wearing. They did that at Indy. People were taking off tennis shoes, even. I'm there like, these are Nike sandals, I SWEAR there's no metal in them. But if you try to argue it just takes longer. Ironically, I was so flummoxed over the shoes that I forgot to take off my watch at Indy. It didn't set off the metal detector -- nice. At least the floor wasn't filthy, like in San Juan. I flew Northwest both ways, mostly because they fly nonstop there out of Indy. My planes were, like, older than me (WAY older, I think), but the ride was okay. I think they even had a little more leg room than a 737. My prize for best planes still goes to Continental, who have those little wing-headrests, so you don't fall asleep on your neighbor (and vice versa) or wake up with a sore neck. Got to see the Grand Canyon from above, so that was cool. It even looks freaking big that high up.

Maybe I'll try to figure out how to post pictures tomorrow.

* FYI: Pot of gold. I think everyone simultaneously blanked on that one.


radio free...columbus?

CD101 highlight of my drive home: Patti Smith's version of "Gloria". It's not like I don't own a copy of Horses, but the fact that somewhere in Ohio there's a radio station that will play songs from it I find both comforting and aggravating.

Why do we not have a radio station like that? Whyeeeee? Why do we only have like 10 stations to begin with? It takes like 2 seconds to get through the entire Cincinnati dial.

It's not like commercial radio in Akron is much better (well, I swear there are twice as many stations). But there are good high school and college stations. Get your asses in gear, Cincinnati kids.

Meanwhile, Winamp has decided to remind me that I had a moderately out-of-control cover of "Love Hurts" (yes, that one) by Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan. I heart Winamp.

Trip home was mostly uneventful. They checked out like every square inch my car and found nothing wrong. Shocker.

However, apparently I did rattle some cages at Hyundai. When I went in, the conversation went something like this:

Hyundai guy: Okay. I want you to know that we rearranged the schedules for our two best Hyundai technicians so that they could work today.
Me: Uh, great. Has Hyundai regional been in contact --
Hyundai guy: Yes. We've been in communication with them. And our district manager stopped by to strategize the other day...

And yet they found nothing. This leaves me with the only possible conclusion: my car is possessed.

Also during the weekend, I took my mom and sister to the Trader Joe's near Cleveland so they could experience the awesome cheap goodness. At first I was afraid I had built it up too much and they wouldn't be impressed. I needed more faith.

Joe had them at the cereal aisle.

By the time we checked out and the cashier gave my mom a free bouquet of tulips for being a first-time customer (my mom parked the cart on the wrong side before I could stop her...rookie mistake), they were totally wanting one closer to home.

Muahahaha, more converts.


May 4

Yes, I know it's May 5. But I didn't get around to saying anything about May 4 yesterday.

I have nothing historically valuable or important to say about May 4, but I've been missing Kent lately and the anniversary has made me miss it more. I wish I was going to have time to go out and walk around campus when I go home this weekend, but that probably won't happen. I don't want to go back to school. I just want to go have a beer at Ray's or something.

I guess I was expecting to see more on it — it was the 35th anniversary, but apparently after we passed 30, everybody stopped caring (except, of course, the May 4 Task Force). 30 I remember well; I was a junior and living in Prentice, right next to the parking lot where everything happened. I was living in the midst of a media circus for a week. I feel very distant, this time.

In other news:

The Highly Questionable Restaurant Named Roadhouse on Ridge has on their sign a Mother's Day Ribeye & Shrimp special.

Now, I am fairly sure (and by fairly I mean 99.9%) that would not be my mom's choice for Mother's Day. I'm not sure how many other moms would be in for that, either. Like, steak and shrimp seems much more a Father's Day thing. Or a not-related-to-any-parent's day thing.

Perhaps I am gender stereotyping. I'm sure somewhere out there are some moms who'd love to get their steak and shrimp on for their day, and this is the only place they can do it. Some places would call this filling a niche. I'm not sure Roadhouse has put that much thought into it.

Also, for the last two days, I have got the dribble cups from Starbucks.

You know the kind. The ones where you take a sip and all of a sudden there's coffee on your pants and you're all, "Man, did I not push the lid down all the way?", but you did, and the coffee is apparently coming out of some part of the cup via osmosis? So you take another sip to try to figure out where in the hell it's coming through, and you get coffee all over your hands and never do actually pinpoint a location, despite numerous, foolish sips?

Yeah. Hate those.


Blogger attempt #2

So apparently many moons ago I created a blog at blogger and made like two posts and subsequently forgot about it. I am going to try to, uh, not forget about it this time.

So this is my currently-very-dull-hope-that'll-change blog. Name stolen from Underworld's "Dirty Epic."

The real question is how long I'll go without feeling the urge to tweak the template to death...