On the outside looking in....

Yesterday I walked a mile and a half barefoot.
Not to prove some grand point about how some people don't have shoes, but because I did something very very stupid. Again.
I locked myself out of house while taking out my trash, and when I couldn't creak into my own house...I walked over to my parents' house to see if I could break in there to get my spare key.
Because I can't lock myself out when my parents are in town and can come bring me my spare key. Of course not. Life is never that easy for me. My parents are in Hawaii. So after a series of phone calls trying to either track down a way to get into my own apartment or finding someone with a spare key to my parents' locked-up house so I could get in and and get my own key....I finally (two hours later, and depending on several people for help, which I hate doing) was able to get back into my house. Still shoeless, tired, hungry and completely done with how utterly stupid and idiotic I have been.

Again I ask...does this stuff actually happen to other people, or have I been singled out for some sick experiment...like a Job situation or something....

#thestruggleisreal

It has been over two years since my last post, and I wish I could say that so much has changed...but not really.

I have a new job...but I still feel 'stuck'
I have a new address...but I still don't have a 'home'

I still whine about the same things, I still run away to Disneyland, and I still live too far away from Broadway shows.

So why am I writing now? Well, if my life were a sitcom, today's episode would be called 'A Hardware's Night' or 'Hardware Times Come Again No More' or some other cutesy play on words that would accompany the events that led to the minor freak out I had at the hardware store today.

I am a girl. I am single girl. I am a single girl that sheds like a golden retriever. My hair gets everywhere, and all of the sudden my shedding has caused my bathroom sink to drain v e r y  s l o w l y...

There was a product that my dad used to use in my bathroom sink when I lived at home, since this product unclogged the sink I shared with my equally shedding sister, I figured it was strong enough to fix my clog as well! But this industrial strength hair-dissolver, sink-unclogger stuff isn't something a person can just buy at Target, I had to go to a hardware store.

I feel I'm decently equipped when it comes to minor household fixes. Just yesterday, I helped my dad with a light fixture at my parents' house, but walking into that hardware store made me feel like a stupid little girl.

I didn't know where to look, what to look for, who to ask or what to ask for. I just felt so helpless and idiotic. Part of me was angry because I'm a feminist and I should know these things just as well as any man, but part of me was upset because I'm single and I don't have a husband to take care of this stuff for me.

This has been the identity crisis I've been struggling with for years...I need to know this stuff, but I don't want to need to know this stuff. Any of it. Unclogging sinks, fixing lights, getting my oil changed or my tires rotated...I don't want to be helpless, I just want to be helped out!

My Poor Thea

Thea, being my car, of course.

I am seriously going to pack up all my stuff, sell anything unnecessary (including my poor baby) and move to New York...or somewhere else with public transportation that will allow me to never have to be behind the wheel of a car again. I don't deserve a car, and my poor Thea definitely does NOT need me as a driver. My first brand new car. My first car that is MINE...and what do I do? I got us pulled over back in June (although, I partially blame her and her super enthusiastic accelerator for that) and then today...I hit a pole.
A pole.
A pole that wasn't moving. A pole that I've been parking next to for the past four months. Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!! As much as I'd love to blame the pole for this, I can't. I wish I could blame the engineer who designed the parking structure...since I'm the only slot that has to park between two sets of poles. Our carports look like this:
|_ _|_|_ _| aka: set of poles, spot, spot, set of poles, my spot, set of poles, spot, spot, set of poles...given my propensity for disaster, it was really only a matter of time. But my baby. My less than a year old, new off the lot, my name on the registration baby...has a giant boo boo on the panel thingy between the bumper and the front passenger's side door. Which will need to be replaced. Which will cost me lots of money and leave me carless for some time.

We've been over my dislike for the southern part of California about a MILLION times, and I'm not even the biggest fan of driving...
Yep-I think it's time for me to wake up in the city that never sleeps!