The Girl Code

The other day I was watching the new Harry Potter movie. There's a scene where he tries to ask a girl to be his date for the Triwizard ball. He walks up to where Cho Chang is hanging out with her girlfriends and for a second, I saw a glimmer of what it must be like for guys sometimes. It must be hard to approach a group full of girls. We can be intimidating, especially when surrounded by our posses. But my sympathy stops there. I bring this up only to segue to my main topic: the girl code.

Girls look out for one another. We stick together. We try to help our friends navigate through the scary world of relationships, we try to protect them from heartbreak, and then we're there to help them recover when it happens.

The girl code is so instinctive sometimes that we don't even know we're doing it. It's like a 6th sense. Here are two situations from a birthday party I was at a couple of weeks ago to highlight how it all goes down.

1) The general was dancing with this one guy (let's call him HBF). HBF is a friend. HBF is a great guy. But HBF was dancing all up on her and none of us were sure if she liked it. So we tried to make ourselves extra available in case she didn't. At one point, one girl reported that the general appeared to reach out for my arm (possibly in distress?) as I turned and walked to say hi to another friend. Another friend saw the reach and reported back to me on it. This immediately activated the "girl-might-be-in-need-of-a-rescue" code. It turns out though that the general was just fine. Regardless, the code was in full effect and we were prepared to act if necessary.

2) Business Brownie got roped into dancing with a very drunk doctor. It seemed as though she wasn't having a great time, but kept dancing to be polite. We enjoyed watching this for about a second and then we did the "girl group sweep" where we danced up around them and kind of pulled BB back in with us, thereby saving her from receiving any more of the bump and grind move that so many men seem fond of these days.

It is tough being a single girl. But thankfully I have my girlfriends to protect me from all those earnest dance-floor pelvic thrusters out there. Boys beware!

Girl Parts, Boy Parts

We were learning about the urinary tract the other day in class. When we got to the urethra, we discussed the length of a woman's pathway and how its length makes women more susceptible to UTIs. The prof was making a big point about the length as it relates to all this, so when we got to the male portion she asked, "How long do you think the male urethra is?"

There was silence for a nanosecond and then I blurtted out, "Well.....it would depend, wouldn't it?"

I couldn't help it! I had to say it. The class burst out laughing and the teacher blushed. Before we could all calm down one of the guys in the class yelled out, "But that doesn't matter, right?"

Somewhere inside the minds of every grown adult is a 7 year old child who still thinks girl and boy parts are funny.

Nothing is Impossible Except, Like, Finding your Car

On Sunday night I went to see a musical called Hip-hopera. It retells the bible stories of Cain, Abel and Job amidst the setting of a big hip hop recording label. It was a little odd, but very clever and unique.

My favorite character was the role of the young intern whose uncle is the owner of the whole company. She's young, superficial, and very LA (her dialogue was even peppered with the word "like" throughout the show). There was one particularly funny scene where the intern is trying to encourage Job not to give up. The words are hopeful and the music swells in typical theatrical fashion while the lyrics include things such as: "Nothing is impossible except, like, flying" and, "Never say never unless you're really old." She's sort of like a Mary Poppins from the Valley.

After the show, the general and I were eager to head home. We said good-bye to the others and started the trek back up through Hollywood and Highland. On the way there we realized we forgot our parking ticket in the car. We didn't know how much non-validated parking was--and apparently no one else there does either. Based on some assumptions and our knowledge of all things LA, we figured it probably wouldn't be more than $12. So after briefly weighing the benefits of a $2 validation versus the cost of spending more time walking around (go to the car, grab the ticket, walk back to a shop to get validated) we decided to suffer the $10 loss and take the lazier route. Only problem is, we couldn't find the car.

Seriously. We walked around and around. We stood there looking dumbfounded. In several places. We finally got the balls to ask some people where the entrance to the parking structure was. Various people pointed and gestured towards directions that seemed right but always ended up being unhelpful. We went up stairs and down elevators. We knew we were close by! We even knew the level our car was on and the actual spot number we were in but we COULD NOT FIND THE ENTRANCE. It was like something out of a sitcom.

We never actually found the entrance into the parking structure. We ended up walking out to Highland and walking in through the street entrance. That means, walking down the side of that narrow spiral parking-structure driveway. It was really really funny. But the whole adventure made us so happy to find our car that we didn't even care about the unvalidated parking fee.

After reflecting on all these events, I think it would have been more appropriate if the Valley girl intern sang, "Nothing is impossible except, like, finding your car."

No Smut Here

On Halloween, when the General and I were waiting in line for the restroom, we decided to entertain ourselves by practicing different poses for pictures (e.g. "be happy," "be sad," "be fierce"). This is all related to our obsession with America's Next Top Model, and more importantly it gave us something funny to do while we waited. Needless to say our photographic montage was a joke and never intended for public viewing.

The other day I had to go to Target to print some photos for a birthday gift I am working on. I edited them to the right size and stored them on my SD card. When I got to Target I found out that I stored them in a folder that was inaccessible. But you know what was accessible? Our montage. Our exaggerated faces were blown up and on the screen in a very public aisle during a very busy lunch break at a high traffic Target. It was sort of embarrassing. The computer was also very very slow and lingered for too long on each image. I tried navigating through the photos to see if I could find the ones I wanted to print, but it was taking FOREVER. I cancelled out of the program and asked the guy working there for help. This is what happened:

ML: "I'm having trouble finding the photos I want to print."

Target Employee: "Let me see the card."

ML: (hesitates and pauses) "Well, there are some private photos on there..."

Target Employee: "Well, if I can't see them then we probably can't print them. We can't print stuff like that...it's illegal."

ML, realizing that he's implying the photos might perhaps be inappropriate says emphatically: "Oh no, it's not like that. The ones I want to print are fine. They're of flowers!"

Target Employee: "Well I can't help you if I can't see the card."

ML: "Okay." (hangs head and walks away in shame).

The photos themselves weren't that embarrassing, but having to stand there with the Target employee as he SLOWLY navigates through 20 or so photos of the General and I being silly was something I wanted to avoid.

I went back later with the photos I wanted to print in the right place and all the "private" photos gone. I was hoping he'd be there so he could see that I was not wanting to print smut. But he was gone. He's probably telling stories to his friends right now about all the odd things he's experienced at work.

Last Night...and the Morning After

Last night was KA's B-Day. We were out in HB until pretty late. Needless to say, I am tired today. And being tired I am more easily annoyed by things. Here are some of the things that I find annoying today:

1) When I ask for an inch of room in my Starbuck's coffee and they make a point of looking at me like I am a high maintenance drinker, and then they FAIL TO GIVE ME EVEN HALF AN INCH.

2) When I am driving with a too full cup of Starbucks coffee--too full because they didn't listen to my one inch request--and it spills over into my cup holder and center console on every turn. This is especially bad if I forgot to get napkins. Like this morning.

3) When I have to give up my dSLR battery because Nikon had a little manufacturing mishap, leaving me without the use of my favorite toy for 7-10 days.

4) When I forget to pack the right shoes. I am wearing the same CFM heels that I wore all day yesterday and all last night. My feet hurt.

5) When I spill my entire cocktail onto my lap, making my lower half not only wet and cold but also potentially ruining a nice new pair of pants.

These are the things that are making my morning a little less sunshiny. But on another note, none of it is that big of a deal.

I had tons of fun last night with the blog crew and it is well worth my fatigue, sore feet and coffee catastrophes.

When Bigger is Better

I found a new coffee place. It's fabulous because of the following:

1) It's neighborhood-y,
2) tasty,
3) on my way to work, and
4) none of the employees have dated me.

Like many of the other independent coffee shops in the LBC, it's an art gallery-coffee bar combo, so it's infinitely cooler than a Starbucks because, well, art galleries are just cool. The people who work there are nice and I already feel like a "regular". Most importantly though, they serve CAFE CON LECHE. I consider this beverage to be the nectar of the gods. For real. It's that good.

Normally I only indulge in CCLs when I'm traveling in other countries. I am allowed, while on foreign soil, to have as many as I want. Since I don't find them too often here in non-restaurant environments, I generally don't think about them much. But today I found dangerously easy access to a perfectly creamy, perfectly cinnamon-and-brown-sugar seasoned, perfectly hot CCL.

But the real beauty about all this? Like all things American, this CCL is much larger than the European/Latin versions.

Sometimes bigger is just better. God bless America.

Photos of the week 11/11

Here are some photos from around me new neighborhood.

I Heart Hearts

The more I learn in anatomy the more I am astounded at the resilience of the human body. Seriously, it is amazing that we have all lived this long and are still in (relatively) good health. Right now we are studying the heart. It is a fascinating organ. So interesting in fact that I'm thinking maybe this is an area I want to focus on.

The other night we were dissecting sheep's hearts. As I was removing layers and looking at the different sections, I couldn't help but wonder what it is about the heart (as an organ) that has made it a symbol of love. Where is the connection?? My outlook was perhaps distorted by the visceral experience of that moment, but I started thinking about the heart more figuratively. Does the heart we use when we refer to "love" relate at all to the anatomical version? Here are some of the parallels I came up with:

All our hearts are full, even if they feel empty.
A heart has four separate hollow spaces. But they are full of blood. Even if our hearts feel empty, they never really are.

Heart-break is not that easy.
Our hearts break metaphorically all the time. But it is not so simple to tear it apart in reality. There is a lot of tough connective tissue there holding it all together. And I would argue that collagen fibers just may be stronger than what it feels like to be dumped.

Heart Strings Really do get pulled.
Heart strings are real. They have a more official sounding Latin name, but it literally means "heart string." And these are responsible for opening the valves which let blood go from space to space. So every moment of every day that we are alive, our heart strings are being pulled.

The heart can live on "bread" alone.
The heart doesn't need much to keep on beating. Just some nutrients to keep the cells alive. So, by "bread" I really mean "nutrients." But the point is that the heart can live outside the body INDEFINITELY if it were to continue getting the right nutrients. Outside the body. On it's own. Forever. No matter what pain you endure, your heart will continue to beat.

Maybe the reason that a heart has come to symbolize love is because it is so resilient, so strong, so unwavering...sort of like our need for human connection.

But whatever parallels do or do not exist, I like the idea that there is something this constant in our bodies. I heart hearts. ; )

Losing the Race to Ultimate Happiness

I found out on Friday night that my ex-boyfriend is engaged. We have only been broken up for a year and five months. And within a year and five months, he has found someone that is better than me. Better enough to marry anyway.

Now, I really am truly over him. And this is evidenced by the fact that while I heard this news Friday night, I had forgotten about it for much of Saturday. When I remebered it I was pissed off again, but it wasn't on the front of my mind and I take that as a good sign.

So I am angry about this not because he didn't want to marry me (we really were not right for each other) but because this is a sign that HE HAS WON. He has beat me in the race to ultimate happiness.*

"Race?" you might ask. Yes, Race. I want to be happy and in love and I am not. And now I have proof that he is. And that just sucks especially because he was the one to dump me.

Oh well. He's old. And I'm allowed to make low blows now without any guilt because I am the big fat loser here.

*I am equating "ultimate happiness" and "marriage" for melodramtic purposes only.

Photos of the Week 10/28 and 11/4

We have internet! Here are my POTW's from the last two weeks. All related to images taken by the general. Oh, and there's one below of our brownie sashes from Halloween.

The Eternal Sunshine of Easily Styled Hair

WARNING: This is a shallow post. Proceed with caution.

I have finally perfected the art of wavy hair--wavy hair a la Jennifer Anniston that one year she won an Emmy. Wavy hair a la the Olsen Twins (not that I ever aim to look like them). Wavy hair a la the boho style that has swept the fashion industry of late.

This is not a big deal to me because of trends though. This is important to me for other reasons. I was raised by a mother who suffers from an affliction I call "Curly Hair Denial." She has always straightened her hair, and because I learned all things woman from my momma, I first learned to style my hair by straightening it. Which was a big fat pain. After my college roommate V told me I had curly hair and helped me figure out how to wear it that way, I have been obsessed with finding new, easy ways to style my hair.

And so I am drawn to the wavy, bed-tousled, just-got-back-from-the-beach do because it looks simple. But I have found it is not necessarily so. I've struggled and experimented, all to no avail, until now. This morning I did it. I have even-ish waviness all over. It's easy and I love it. Oh happy, happy day.

On another note, I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind last night again. God, I LOVE that movie. It is seriously one of my favorite films of all time. So many of the themes appeal to me. It is smart, enjoyable, hopeful. The whole concept of wanting to erase an ex from your mind coupled with the idea that some fateful things cannot be avoided is so touching. And the concept that erasing past memories also means taking away good ones is a nice way to reflect on time spent with exes. If you haven't seen this movie, do.

Drafting Me a Date

Even though I am only 27 and not too old by society's current standards for women, sometimes I do find myself worrying about being single forever. No, it is not a rational fear but it is a real one and it is something many of my girlfriends share. On Friday I was shocked to discover that I am not the only one who worries about me being single forever. Apparently my entire extended family does also. (BTW, this is the same side of the family who thinks I would look better with a bigger chest. See a post from back in April called "Family Criticisms").

Anyways...my cousin (who is male and has NEVER had a girlfriend) works as a lawyer for the Air Force. He is stationed in Mississippi right now, I think. I'm not particularly close to him and we do not keep in touch. I guess he had some photos up at his desk of some family event from the summer and some guy who he works with wanted to know more about me. My cousin called my Aunt who called my Grandma who called my mom to see if I thought it was okay if they gave him my email address so that we could become pen pals or something. WTF? This is so typical of this side of the family. So I laughed, rolled my eyes in incredulity, and said no. My mom shared my opinion and left it at, "Well, email your aunt if you're interested."

I was not interested and I did not email my aunt. So yesterday I was very surprised to receive a long, friendly email from a second lieutenant in the air force telling me about himself and asking all about me.

My family is so concerned I will be single forever that they are recruiting military men from Mississippi for me.

Adventures in Moving

Wow, these past weekend was busy! I got a total of 8 hours of sleep across Friday and Saturday night. Partly for responsible reasons (moving) and partly for irresponsible ones (partying Friday night and going out for Halloween Saturday night). Here's a little summary:

1) Friday Night: Super fun, random night out in the LBC. We had lots of fun posing ANTM style for my camera. Honestly, I think a camera is the most fun accessory for going out. It always adds a whole new layer of fun. And if people are drinking, they are more fun to take pictures of. It's too bad this blog is anonymous, otherwise I'd post some great photos of my friends and I.

What I learned: Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles is not open 24 hours.

2) Saturday morning/day: This was big time super hard core moving day. I am still sore from carrying furniture up stairs. But it went fast. All the furniture was in place by 1pm, then we unpacked and hung pictures and set up stereo/TV equipment. We didn't stop until 5:30pm. And I had to get ready for Halloween at 6:30. That left me an hour for a nap after getting only 3 hours of sleep the night before. Fabulous.

What I learned: Get more sleep.

3) Saturday night: Halloween. We were Brownie Troop 069 from Licking Valley (a real place, apparently). Too bad this blog is anonymous...some great photos. I had a good time that night but being so tired definitely put a damper on it all. And I have to say I had more fun as a Fanta girl last year.

What I learned: Get more sleep.

4) Sunday morning: My new, very anal landlord called at 8am to remind me of something she's told me a gazillion times. I couldn't sleep more after that because the sun was out and because I was anxious to finish unpacking. And we had to go and clean the old apartment too for our walk-through...So I spent Sunday unpacking, cleaning and being exhausted.

What I learned: it sucks to move.

Other news....

The Barista: I've been going to the Daily Grind because I have NO OTHER OPTION now (due to where we live and my route to work). I have encountered the barista each time and it is awkward and strange but I am forced to deal with it. It is my coffee-cross to bear.

Boys: NBF, for "new" BF, is very sweet and nice and he keeps talking about hanging out more. And, he called me early Sunday after seeing him Saturday night just to say hi. This can't go anywhere but that doesn't mean I don't want it to. And WBF, is WAY over. I don't even want to go into it but it all ended with him being dishonest, me calling him on it, him apologizing, and then a week+ of my oh-so-passive silent treatment.

The Newspaper: I had a meeting with the paper last week and have two new assignments over the next month. This is fun.

Photos of the Last week: I have so many good ones....I am getting so addicted to photography. It's like my release lately.

So that is an update on what's been going on. Happy Tuesday.