Work: 18 hours*
Gone to the gym: 1.5 hours
Ate: 1.5 hours
Showered: .5 hours
Had TV night with friends: 2.5 hours
Midnight showing of Twilight: 3 hours
Attended my sister's swim meet: 3 hours
Disneyland: 6 hours
Slept: ...
* All times include transit time. I actually worked 16 hours.
11.22.2008
11.16.2008
Where the streets have no name
I saw more of California this weekend than I ever wanted to. See?
View Larger Map
We were headed home from a camping trip and got horribly, horribly stuck because of two separate wildfires. For those not familiar with the area, we should have been able to take the 91 to the 55, which would have taken about 30 minutes from where we got stopped. Instead, we spent 2.5 hours driving all around Diamond Bar, La Habra, and I don't know where else, nor do I want to know.
Aside from that, it was an absolutely splendid weekend hanging out with friends around a campfire, climbing over rocks, and taking lots of pictures.
Yep, it was worth it.
View Larger Map
We were headed home from a camping trip and got horribly, horribly stuck because of two separate wildfires. For those not familiar with the area, we should have been able to take the 91 to the 55, which would have taken about 30 minutes from where we got stopped. Instead, we spent 2.5 hours driving all around Diamond Bar, La Habra, and I don't know where else, nor do I want to know.
Aside from that, it was an absolutely splendid weekend hanging out with friends around a campfire, climbing over rocks, and taking lots of pictures.
Yep, it was worth it.
11.09.2008
Why I moved to California
I have lost count of the number of times I've had some variation of the following conversation:
So, are you from around here?
No, I grew up in Wyoming.
Really? What brought you out here?
Work.
Occasionally, we go deeper and they discover that I had no connections here; it was only because I got the job. Then it becomes, "Really? You're so brave!" To which I reply, "I didn't really look at it that way. I was just doing what I wanted to do."
Let me 'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
My last semester in college, I wanted nothing more than to get the heck outta Dodge. I even had a sign on my wall that counted down the days until I could "leave this stupid town." Trouble was, I didn't have any place else to go. Home had family, but very few job or social opportunities. Salt Lake was almost as unappealing as Provo. So I found a place to live and got permission to keep my student job, thinking that by the end of the summer, I would have found a real job somewhere new and fabulous.
Then I interviewed for a job in Springville. I called my dad in tears after the interview because I knew I was going to get the job. He said, "Sweetie, that's a good thing! They're going to give you a job." "But it's in Provo!" I sobbed back. I wasn't upset about the job; I was frustrated because I knew that taking it was the right thing to do. Frustrated because it would mean staying where I was, which was contrary to my desires. Frustrated because I was afraid I would get stuck in Happy Valley, never to leave again, to end up as a crazy cat lady renting out my basement to students and dreaming of missed chances. But I knew it was what I was supposed to do, if not why it was, so I took it. For the next several months, the conversation went like this:
So, you're done with school, right? What are you still doing here?
ARGH! I have no idea.
I had signed up for Monster.com in my initial job search. Every week, they sent me an email with newly posted editorial jobs. Usually, I just deleted them without ever reading them, but every once in a while I'd open them up to see what was out there. I even sent out a few resumes, but nothing ever came of it. One night I read of an entry-level position in Irvine, California. Huh, I thought, California could be fun. So I sent in my resume.
A few days later, I was surprised by a phone call from the editor I had sent my resume to. I took and passed their editing test. I drove out one weekend to interview with the editor and the office manager. They called my references. And finally, they called and offered me the job. This time I didn't cry, but I had the same feeling that this was right.
I was reminded of that a few weeks ago when my office was interviewing for a new receptionist. The old receptionist, who has been promoted and is one of my friends, sat in on the interviews. They had one that didn't go so well. The office manager told my friend that this interview "was even worse than Mindy's." Apparently, I had an absolutely horrible interview, but they saw some sort of potential and my resume was good, so they offered me the job anyway. When my friend told me this, I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I am supposed to be here.
So that is why I moved to California. But this certainly helps:
So, are you from around here?
No, I grew up in Wyoming.
Really? What brought you out here?
Work.
Occasionally, we go deeper and they discover that I had no connections here; it was only because I got the job. Then it becomes, "Really? You're so brave!" To which I reply, "I didn't really look at it that way. I was just doing what I wanted to do."
Let me 'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
My last semester in college, I wanted nothing more than to get the heck outta Dodge. I even had a sign on my wall that counted down the days until I could "leave this stupid town." Trouble was, I didn't have any place else to go. Home had family, but very few job or social opportunities. Salt Lake was almost as unappealing as Provo. So I found a place to live and got permission to keep my student job, thinking that by the end of the summer, I would have found a real job somewhere new and fabulous.
Then I interviewed for a job in Springville. I called my dad in tears after the interview because I knew I was going to get the job. He said, "Sweetie, that's a good thing! They're going to give you a job." "But it's in Provo!" I sobbed back. I wasn't upset about the job; I was frustrated because I knew that taking it was the right thing to do. Frustrated because it would mean staying where I was, which was contrary to my desires. Frustrated because I was afraid I would get stuck in Happy Valley, never to leave again, to end up as a crazy cat lady renting out my basement to students and dreaming of missed chances. But I knew it was what I was supposed to do, if not why it was, so I took it. For the next several months, the conversation went like this:
So, you're done with school, right? What are you still doing here?
ARGH! I have no idea.
I had signed up for Monster.com in my initial job search. Every week, they sent me an email with newly posted editorial jobs. Usually, I just deleted them without ever reading them, but every once in a while I'd open them up to see what was out there. I even sent out a few resumes, but nothing ever came of it. One night I read of an entry-level position in Irvine, California. Huh, I thought, California could be fun. So I sent in my resume.
A few days later, I was surprised by a phone call from the editor I had sent my resume to. I took and passed their editing test. I drove out one weekend to interview with the editor and the office manager. They called my references. And finally, they called and offered me the job. This time I didn't cry, but I had the same feeling that this was right.
I was reminded of that a few weeks ago when my office was interviewing for a new receptionist. The old receptionist, who has been promoted and is one of my friends, sat in on the interviews. They had one that didn't go so well. The office manager told my friend that this interview "was even worse than Mindy's." Apparently, I had an absolutely horrible interview, but they saw some sort of potential and my resume was good, so they offered me the job anyway. When my friend told me this, I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I am supposed to be here.
So that is why I moved to California. But this certainly helps:
11.02.2008
How I came to be dressed like this for Halloween:
It all started with this little guy.
We found him while going through the server room before the office move. Seeing prank possibilities, we moved him around the office for a few days, freaking people out (at first glance, he's very alive looking). One day, I wandered in at 8:30 as usual to find my officemates had decided to dress him up for Halloween. "We thought it would be funny to dress him up as a teenage mutant ninja turtle!" I agreed.
Except it didn't stop there. The next thing I know, the ringleader is saying, "Wouldn't it be funny if we dressed up like ninja turtles?" And for some reason, I agreed with that too. I then dazzled them with my intimate knowledge of all things ninja turtle, including who was what color. We sewed them on our lunch breaks this week (and managed in secrecy until Thursday, when everyone decided that our closed door really meant "come on in!"). We even managed to keep the turtle in the action as Splinter.
But the best part of the whole thing was our trip to Costco. We had to pick up our pizzas for the potluck lunch. Someone else was driving and offered to take us with him. So while he (and half our office) waited in line to check out, we stood at the front of the store holding two large pizza boxes and waving at all the little kids who walked by. It was awesome.
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