Burning the Midnight Oil

My life is a dizzying array of traffic, homemade iced coffee, Home Depot runs, Yogurtland and television.  If you think this sounds pathetic, well, I might agree with you.

But please, withhold the judgment and let me justify each element of my life.  Please.

Traffic...

This is a given.  If you've spent any amount of time at all in SoCal, you understand.  My dad likes to refer to the highways of Los Angeles as the "world's largest parking lot" and I'm sad to report that he is correct from the hours of 7am - 11 am, and 3 pm - 8 pm.  If you're calculating you'll realize that this leaves almost zero useable time in the day to do much of anything.

Oy, vey.

(Also, I've taken a liking to Jewish phrases.  Happy Rosh Hashana, folks!  All Californian children are off school today, how did we miss out in that in Texas?)

Homemade iced coffee:

This stuff is a Godsend.  Seriously, I would not have the time or money to keep my caffeine IV running without the embarrassingly large pitcher that always lives in the forefront of my fridge.  (Whoa, was that a run-on sentence? More coffee, please)  I'll post an easy breezy recipe (complete with pictures- what a concept!) soon.  You have to do this.

Home Depot:

How I loathe this joint.  First of all, it's ginormous.  It can take me 10 full minutes to cross the store, and I move at a pretty fast pace for all of my 5 feet, 2 and a quarter inches.  In addition, I am only good at home renovation projects when they involve wheelchair ramps or drill guns.  Wheelchair ramps because I build one every summer for about 7 years and drill guns because they are fun.  And I think at some point in my life I used one with my Dad on a swing set.

Needless to say, the Home Depot is not my friend.  And yet I go almost every day.  Heavens to Betsy.

Yogurtland:

Have you all tried this place? You need to, stat.  If only for the joy of getting to put little pink and white frosted animal cookies all over your yogurt.  What is it about these cookies, by the way? They are so stinking delicious, and the they must be made up of nothing more than sugar and water.  My mom commented to me after looking over my bank statement that Yogurtland seemed to be a regular fixture in my life, and to this I have no rebuttal.  I've traded yogurt for Sonic diet cokes.  This could actually end badly, now that I think about it...

And last, but certainly not least- the glorified television.  I'm typically not this lame (am I?) but it is premiere week(s) for Pete's sake.  Therefore my sweet rooms and I have stacked up our DVR to capacity with everything from Hart of Dixie (charming, but how in the world is Rachel Bilson successful?) to Awkward (Also known as the Best New Show No One has Seen) to The Vampire Diaries (Still the most shocking 44 minutes of my week) and everything in between.  Need a new television obsession?  Just say the word.  I've successfully hooked my family on Friday Night Lights (Don't even get me started...) and I can do the same for you.

As Sadie from Awkward would say, "You're welcome."

Back to Life

...Hopefully I will be by this weekend, at least.

I have started my new job!  It is wonderful and crazy and busy and confusing and funny and satisfying.  I also work pretty long hours, like about 11 a day.  That's why I've been completely MIA from the Blogosphere, because whenever I have a free moment of any sort I usually go to the store and buy foods that I shouldn't eat and devour them.

Speaking of, have you all ever had a Marie Callender's Chicken Pot Pie?  If not, whatever you do- DON'T start now.  Because they are really divine.  And this is coming from someone who doesn't like vegetables.

Here's how this misadventure began.  I left work at 8:00 pm, running on one bowl of cereal, two cups of coffee, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the day.  I was hungry.  So when I overheard a young couple commenting on how many pot pies they could fit in their cart, I had to inquire.  "So the pot pies are good, you say?"  The accolades for the pot pie for so vehement that I caved and threw the darn thing in my basket.  "Just don't look at the nutrition facts," they warned as I wheeled away.  Whatever, I mentally said, I have worked hard today.

Now, it is important we don't confuse "working" with "working out," which unfortunately seems to be the first thing to go when time is scarce.  Whoops.

So imagine my surprise when I got around to reading the nutrition facts on this baby... I can feel my heart closing up now... THIRTY EIGHT grams of fat.  38 folks.  (I'm not sure whether words or numerals better express my disgust.  And about 700 calories... Holy guacamole.  And speaking of guacamole, I'm guessing these weren't "good" fats, a la avocados.

Oy vey.

It was so delicious though, I totally forgot about the disgraceful nutritional value.  Or maybe I was delirious from lack of sleep...

Either way, I'm just bopping along in life.  I have a trip to Texas planned for less than two weeks away (YIPEE SKIPEE DOO DA!) and I'm actually getting paid for all my hard work.

I've reached the pinnacle folks.  It's gotta be all downhill from here...

Answered Prayers

Apparently I should have miniature emotional meltdowns on public forums more often, because less than 24 hours after I posted that last melodramatic, sappy little diddy on here I received a phone call to schedule an interview.  Which then led to another interview.  Which then led to a job (!!!) that I start tomorrow.

Due to the nature of this job, I can't really give many details on here.

(And I promise I'm not dealing drugs.  That's totally what that sounds like.)

All I can say is that I am gainfully employed, full time, by a wonderful boss and every day of my working life will be challenging and different and hectic and full of adventure.

I've said it once, I've said it a million times:

God is good.  All the time.

Amen.

Place in This World

Ever feel like you're "spinning your wheels?"  This is me today.  And yesterday.  And... Oh okay I'll stop.

It's not that I'm not happy.  I'm quite happy and optimistic and looking forward because that's just what I do.

But some days it just feels like I'm running in a circle, like a gerbil on a wheel.  Hoping to jump off at some point, into some unknown "job," (which, hopefully, desperately, at some point will pay me some cash-money) where I will be satisfied and challenged and fulfilled and content.

Am I dreaming too big here?  If your answer is "yes," kindly refrain from telling me that.  As I'm sure you've noticed, I like to live in my happy dream world where things are pretty and manicured and sunshine-y.

So, as I've mentioned before, my life is reflected in the minds of some radio DJ who controls my Sirius XM radio.  Lately, I've been hearing certain songs A LOT.  A few that stand out are "Baby Girl" by Sugarland, "A Place in This World" by Taylor Swift and "Party Rock Anthem."

We're not going to talk about that last one, because I'm convinced my car is rigged with some system that tells the radio when that abysmal track is on and then repeatedly slams the melody into my brain.  I've said it once and I'll say it again- PLEASE, for the love, stop playing club music before 8 pm.

Sorry, I digress.  The point of this whole spiel is that "Baby Girl" is defining my life in literal ways, "Please Mom and Dad, please send money, I'm so broke that it ain't funny..."

Tell me about it sister.

But T-Swift just goes and does it again when I hear you singing about your place in this world.  First of all, I'd like to tell you something, Swifty.  I think you've found your place, and it involves playing to sold-out arenas and winning awards and traveling the world and being adored and tweeting entirely too often.  Sorry.  But I think your place is pretty darn established.

Which leaves me to beg... How does one go about finding their place?  If anyone has advice, I'd welcome it with open arms.

Until that point, I'm just going to keep singing this song and hoping that some miraculous "place" will appear out of the mist with big flashing lights around it.

Just so I don't miss it.

Here are the lyrics, if you'd like to commiserate with me.

A Place In This World"

I don't know what I want, so don't ask me
Cause I'm still trying to figure it out
Don't know what's down this road, I'm just walking
Trying to see through the rain coming down
Even though I'm not the only one
Who feels the way I do

[Chorus:]

I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know
I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on
I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in
This world

Got the radio on, my old blue jeans
And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
Feeling lucky today, got the sunshine
Could you tell me what more do I need
And tomorrow's just a mystery, oh yeah
But that's ok

[Repeat Chorus]

Maybe I'm just a girl on a mission
But I'm ready to fly

[Repeat Chorus] 

Thing I've Learned from the Real World

This list could really go on and on, chronicling my various trials and tribulations with things such as "budgeting" and parking tickets, and Yogurtland addictions.

(These are real world issues that plague real world people everywhere.  What a mess.)

But today, I'm focusing on a lesson of the savory variety.  I learned quickly when I moved into an apartment that I need salsa in my life.  I'm a much happier person when I can grab a few Tostitos and salsa and be on my way.  Call it the Texas coming out in me, call it whatever, it is what it is.  And let me tell you one other thing I've learned... Pace picante sauce should never in a million years be considered "salsa."  It is sinful and should be destroyed, one bottle at a time.

So along with my every-other-week habit of making my own iced coffee (homemade coffee helps with the budgeting issue) I also whip up a batch of salsa about every we... Er, dates aren't important.  Let's not focus on how much of this stuff I'm consuming.

Here's the easy breezy directions for the best homemade salsa a California transplant could ask for.

On the shopping list:

2 cans of Rotel, drained (preferrably one original and one Mexican, but if you live in California and they don't know the glory of Rotel, just two)
1 large Hot House Tomato (diced)
1 jalapeno (seeded if you're a weenie, full fledged if you can take the heat)
1 handful of cilantro

Throw it all in a blender and take a spin. Don't puree, use a lower setting to retain some chunkiness if you're into that kind of thing.  I'm not a fan of perfectly smooth salsa.

Voila! You've just made easy breezy salsa that is a sure crowd pleaser.

You won't be disappointed- I promise.

(Sorry I don't own pretty dishes to photograph in.  The disposable tupperware is going to have to do for now.  Yep, you guessed it, budgeting.)

Also- another tip for girls who have just moved in and don't have all the right kitchen tools:

A bobby pin substitutes nicely for a chip clip to keep things nice and fresh.

Works like a charm.


And a final thought for this scattered entry... A very important lesson I've learned from the real world.  Curtains do wonders for stark white apartment walls.  Especially if they are a lovely blue that lets in just enough sunshine.

We started here...

and within one hour, one dangerously incorrectly attached curtain rod, and a few table-standing near accidents later...

We had this.

So homey, right?


Sincerely,

Learning to be a Big Girl

One Less Lonely Girl

I met the Biebs tonight.

Er, I saw the Biebs tonight, less than a car length away from me.

I have had a few requests for details- so here you go.

I have to say, in all of my celebrity encounters thus far, I have stayed calm and cool and acted like I don't give a pretty penny that I frequently see them in People magazine. Ha.

That all changed tonight.  I was attending my regular Sunday night family dinner with my dear Chi-O buddy and her fam, and as my friend and I were pulling into the gate, a taupe colored Mercedes was coming out.  We politely reversed a bit, and the other car waved us through.

And then the world stopped, because sitting in the passenger seat of that Mercedes was the one and only Biebs.

He looked like this, wearing the loony nerd glasses and all.  And sitting casually there, just minding his own business.

And a strange thing happened... It took me a moment to realize who he was.  I saw him, and thought to myself, "Oh, there's Justin Bieber."

And then a split-second later, I was slapping my friend's arm and hyperventilating and whipping out my phone at lightening speed in order to call my 13 year old sister and make her drool with jealousy.

(It worked, by the way.)

It took me a good five minutes to contain myself to the point that I could participate in normal social conversation.  And I kept finding myself smiling at the memory.

Pathetic? Perhaps.  Star struck? Definitely.

Ashamed?

Never say never.

Famous People I've Met

I started a word document on my computer today under that title.  I'm afraid that one day I'll be old and gray and people will say to me, "Lindsay, when you were fun and adventuresome and lived in LA did you meet any movie stars?" And then I want to be able to say to them, "As a matter of fact, I met George Clooney before he was George Clooney." Obviously it won't be George Clooney, but you get the point.

And let me tell you- today I've done pretty well.  I knew it was going to be a good day when I woke up with an email from an Oscar winning actress whose name I won't mention here wanting to "meet with" me.  I don't know what we're meeting about exactly, but I'm pumped.

Then into my office marched Ashley Greene of Twilight fame,

Aimee Teegarden of Friday Night Lights fame, (I could die happy)

and last but not least, Leven Rambin.

You don't know her yet, but you will.  You see, her character Glimmer is going to be killed off in the biggest deal movie of the year, next year.  If you don't know that I'm talking about the Hunger Games yet, do me a favor and quit reading my blog.

Kidding!  But really, go buy the series.  Or else.

Okay, I'll play along.  Or else you'll feel like a loon when the whole world is freaking out over this movie in a few short months and you are wondering what they are hungry for.

Er... I guess that would be blood.  But not in the vampire way! Ah, these teen romance-action novels are getting all confused in my head.

Just go read it.

Over and out.