Thursday, September 27, 2007

Age ain't nothin' but a number

Now that I'm 24 years old, the world seems so much different. When Monday rolled around, people immediately started calling me "ma'am" and asking for my advice on their difficult life predicaments. My landlord asked me if I was in the market to buy real estate. My dad attempted to casually ask me when I plan on settling down and giving him some more grandchildren. Being an adult is weird!

But actually, I want to know what "adult" means. Dictionary.com first defines it as, "having attained full size and strength; grown up; mature" - but I'm pretty sure I haven't attained full size yet (unfortunately) or strength (recently started working out); 'grown up'... hmm, I'll have to do a separate search for that term; mature... well isn't that relative? In fact, I think the whole notion of adulthood is pretty relative and subjective. Of course, I'm not going to argue that the 45 year-old who was smashing mailboxes with the local high school kids just a couple weeks ago still has yet to reach adulthood (he's an adult whether he's ready to admit it or not). However, I think there's about a 20 year span of room for interpretation based on one's experiences. For example, some 15 year-olds are thrust into adulthood out of need to provide for others. For some, the feeling of being an adult might not come until 35. I think a common thread, though, in being considered an adult is the necessity to provide for others. Having kids is definitely the most determining factor of adulthood. And for those who don't (want to) have kids? The determining factors probably include ownership of property, reaching a certain tax bracket, or marriage.

I DO know that I still feel just as much like a kid now as I ever have. It has it's pluses and minuses obviously. And I'm still realistic about it; I actually have a career (which still feels strange to say). But part of me wonders when that morning will come that I wake up and think, "so this is what it feels like to be an adult." Okay, so I'm pretty sure that's not how it happens, but hopefully you get my point. I feel as if I've been in a state of limbo for the past couple years now and me thinks it's time to raise the bar for my standards... I want adult standards for my youthful lifestyle. I want "things" that are new and nice - my things are old and tattered and break all the time, because as a kid, that's all I could afford. I want to be able to thrive on only 6 hours of sleep, like I witness in all adults - I am incapable of waking up before 8am and as a result it seems like I wake up, go to work, come home from work, eat, and then go right back to sleep... so my need for 8+ hours of sleep leaves me with few non-work waking hours. I guess I want to be capable of juggling more activities and responsibility, without becoming a rigid bore (just kidding, to any 'adults' reading this). I know it's possible, I just don't know how to make that transition.

Enough about my almost quarter life crisis. For my Golden Birthday this year, this is what I did: LCD Soundsystem & Arcade Fire concert on Thursday night, Josh & Karen threw me a surprise party on Friday night(!!!), Saturday went out to brunch and dinner with a bunch of friends, Sunday I went to Lauren's grandfather's funeral :( but hers is like my second family so it was good to see them, Monday I took the day off work and Josh forgot it was my actual birthday (we can joke about it now, right??) but then he felt so bad that he took the afternoon off work to bring me the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers (flowers make up for anything!), I went shopping, got a Thai massage (ouch! and most likely never again), and then went out for some delicious Yang Chow Chinese food with my family, and finally, on Tuesday, Katie took me out for my favorite sushi dinner.

That's it. I'm getting old. Maybe soon I'll start acting like it.

Thanks for tuning in.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Oh well oh well oh well!!!

Well, tonight is my would be White Stripes concert *tear*. Gosh, now I feel silly; I'm commiserating a cancelled concert as if it's the one year anniversary of my dog's death. Anyway, what am I complaining about? I get to go see Arcade Fire tomorrow night, and Cat Power the next night! I still have so much exciting activity, in fact, that I'm worried about whether or not I'll be able to push through all of it (since I've always got to be worried about something). We have an international press junket taking place over the next two days and wouldn't you know it, I got the unfortunate job of morning media handler - meaning I have to be at the international guests' hotel in Santa Monica (and I live in Hollywood, mind you) at 7am tomorrow, and 6:30am on Friday. Yikes - that's waaay before my usual wake up time. Living 5 minutes from work allows me the luxury of rolling out of bed at 8:25, in order to make it to work by 9am (yeah, you read correctly, and that's including a shower - I'm low maintenance).

So the weekend (assuming it starts tomorrow) will be great fun, and I'll probably sleep through most of Saturday as a result. Then, Monday, I am taking the day off for my birthday. I used to do that in college so I could go enjoy the beauty of being outdoors with my less financially burdened and dually unemployed friends. Making that call this year, however, was a little more difficult since now we are ALL financially burdened and work conventional day jobs. So whereas in the past I took that day off so I could be more social (read: get more birthday greetings), this year I'm taking the day off to exist in solitude. But when the time came to turn in my "time off" request form I was quite certain that I'd be perfectly happy spending the day all by my lonesome... enjoying a massage, going on a hike, maybe hitting up The Grove for some from me, for me presents. Yes indeed, it will be a good day.

Josh and I would be doing a fancy b-day dinner on Monday, however a particular gift option has come to his mind, which conflicts with any other form of extravagant spending... instead of a fancy dinner (and since he needs to figure out a main attraction gift for me since The White Stripes fell through) he suggested that he put the money he would have spent on my b-day towards... a new... iPhone. Yep, livin' the dream, L-I-V-I-N!! Truth is, however, I haven't decided if that's what I want to do. You see, I'm the type on person who sort of despises her cell phone. Ask my friends and you'll find that I often don't answer it or even carry it on me for that matter; I treat it as a nuisance, a form of restriction and excessive obligation that I just don't need... I don't owe no one no darn explanation of my whereabouts! (unless of course there are extenuating circumstances, which there are about 65% of the time.) So this makes me wonder if the privilege of owning an iPhone would just be wasted on me. Of course, my current phone is one that I bought "refurbished", dates back to about 2000, and is so primitive in its graphics that, well, it has none - its dichromatic color scheme offers a dull green backlight and inanimate black stick figure images, suggestive of an inverted MS-DOS screen. So naturally, I'm not going to be chomping at the bit to flip it open and see what cool stuff is going on in my limited world of communication - rest assured, there's nothing cool going on. But even beyond that... well I'll go ahead and say it: nobody calls me!! Karen will take right to being my only chronic texter, but aside from her, Emily (who I live with anyway), and Josh (who I practically live with anyway), I wonder if my dazzling little iBuddy will get lonely. Eh, fuck it, I'll probably get it anyway.

And then on Tuesday my lovely and dear friend Katie will be treating me to the finest of dinners at our favorite sushi joint. I dare not say the name of my truly authentic little gem, since it's getting progressively busier and busier - god knows I want to keep it freed up for myself!

So there are my anticipated birthday festivities. Maybe I'll enlist friends for a more comprehensive dinner on Saturday night. T'would be a shame if not everyone was given the opportunity to offer me well wishes. (oh no she di'in't!!)

I've realized in writing this entry that I use a lot of dashes - and improperly at that! (I stand by my declaration that semicolons are pretentious).

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

I don't think words exist that will sufficiently express my disappointment over the fact that The White Stripes cancelled their tour for the rest of the year, which includes next week's September 19 concert that I've been looking forward to (read: thinking about multiple times a day) for months now. Not only that, but it is my birthday week and those tickets were Josh's birthday present for me (now he's probably scrambling to think of something else to give me). And I've never been to a concert of theirs before. And they're just about all I've really consistently listened to for the past two years - in fact, my car CD player has been on White Stripes disc rotation for several months now, with the occasional day long break for another CD, which I immediately get tired of and then hurriedly scurry back to the heroine that is The White Stripes music. With every song I love (almost all of them) I've been thinking to myself, "OH! I hope they play that when I see them... OH! No, wait! I want them to play that one more!" Etc.

Many, many tears.

HOWEVER!!!

(section added Thursday)
TONIGHT, Josh and I are going to a live taping of E! Network's "The Soup" - a show which I absolutely adore, so I'm truly, very excited about that!! Apparently the show doesn't have a real live audience. If you watch, you'll notice that the background laughter and feedback sounds as if it is coming from a group of about ten people. Well... it is. The "audience" consists of the show's producers, crew, and such. It just so happens that E! Entertainment is one of Josh's clients and he's tight with their HR guy, so voile! We got hooked up with the intimate experience that is being part of "The Soup" audience. Do you think Joel McHale will make eye contact with me? A girl can only dream...

Monday, September 10, 2007

Vegas, Baby!

Through an unexpected turn of events, I found myself in Las Vegas this past weekend. On Friday night, while sitting on our couches watching TV and trying to gain motivation to go spend too much money at some bar we kind of like, Emily casually asked, "hey, you want to go to Vegas this weekend?"

"Wellllll. I'm not really in the financial position to go to Vegas."

"We'll have a free hotel room..."

"Count me in!"

So, in the spirit of sin, we determined what time we'd leave, what risque outfits we would pack (which, aside from showing a little extra leg sass, weren't very risque at all), and just how late we'd be able to stay out that night in order to wake up early enough to hit the road (though of course we did not abide by our own guidelines and didn't actually leave LA until 2pm).

Naturally, Vegas was an exciting weekend getaway. All in all - and not counting what I spent on drinks - I only lost $10 from gambling, though I got two free drinks while playing, so I'd say I hedged my bets well. Emily wasn't so keen on losing $70 at the Roulette table - which by the way, I had never played before and is my new favorite Vegas game. Heda, lucky girl, was the big winner of this trip, being that she had a 50 Cent sighting in the hallways of The Hard Rock and she won $130 at the Roulette table! I was really hoping I'd be so lucky and my trip would end up paying for itself, but alas...

Probably to be considered one of Saturday night's highlights (and I hope this doesn't make our night sound really lame, but I'm sure it will... even though it wasn't) was a poor sap who was too drunk to realize what a - pardon my french - duechebag he sounded like in trying to pick up on each and every girl in our group. He introduced himself to us all, individually, like this: "I'm so-and-so, I own Sharkey's restaurant, I'm sure you know of Sharkey's, I have a ticket to the VMAs tomorrow night, Are you going to come with me?" says the 25 year old, all in one sentence, I kid you not. We didn't feel so bad laughing at the situation, given that he was such a - as I mentioned before - duechebag. After his introduction and the expected eye rolling that ensued on my part, he said he's from LA too, he went to USC. I noted that my parents both went to USC - poor move. From that moment on, for the rest of the night morning he proceeded to shout "FIGHT ON!!" with his fingers in the air every time I wasn't paying attention to him... which was constantly.

But honestly, we had a fun weekend excursion. The car ride home was a bit rough for me and Emily, for a reason that I just feel horrible relaying/writing about, so I won't. It was traumatic and like nothing I've ever had to experience before... I hope that I never do again.

Yikes, this post got awfully dark for Vegas. I'm in a dark mood right now, so you know, that happens. Anyway... adios.