Traveling to the Enemy Land

I have always hated California. Aside from Prop 8, they have the WORST drivers. I didn’t have to visit California to know that because they all come to Colorado!

They are just damn crazy people.

But a very dear friend moved out there and I promised I would visit. And I must say, that it’s a good thing he didn’t move to  Utah. Because I would NOT visit. No matter how dear. Even the crappy states get rated. And California rates above Utah. Not by much, but enough for me to visit for a couple of days.

I booked my trip at the beginning of December for the third weekend of January. Kind of short notice, but it was fine.

Now…I flew. Because it’s faster. The last time I flew, I had pretty much sworn off it for a while. I think it was the fall of 2009 or 2010, probably 2010. I spur of the moment booked a flight to Alaska because I REALLY love Alaska and have been wanting to go to school out there. I had booked just a smidge past the tourist season so flights were janky. And I mean JANE-KEE. I think it was two connections, and I would basically be traveling for twelve or so hours. Start in Denver, layover in Kansas or something, layover in Seattle. And the whole trip started off bad because my ride to the airport decided to fall asleep and I had to catch an $80 cab ride to the airport at 5 in the morning. It was more of $60 ride, but I tipped $20 because that cabbie floored it. Talk about stress. Thank the martini gods you can drink at 7 in the morning in-flight.
The flight back was worse. Coming back is always worse. You just want to get the hell home. Amazing, my ride FROM the airport was on time. I still ripped him out for the huge flub, though.

Back to California.

I flew. It’s a two and a half hour flight, I think. So not too bad. But before you can get on the flight, you have to go through TSA. Oh TSA. I was freaking out just a bit. I was reading horror stories on the internet about all the recent mess people were going through with them. Nice way to make yourself stressed out, right? I was wearing clip-in extensions constantly and had read the stories of women being publicly embarrassed because of all said beauty secrets. There was a woman that was asked to take out her extensions and plenty others that were having their hair patted down. And another story of someone being asked to take out her nipple rings because of an agent’s BLATANT STUPIDITY. Don’t even get me started on that one.

Now, I’m sure there are those out there that are all gung-ho for TSA and security and safety. Shut up. Just shut up. I, along with countless other women, are not going to sit there and spend an hour styling our hair so that we can put the world’s smallest bomb on our clip-ins. And what? Blow up the plane? No. I understand there was some lady in China or whatever that tried to hide a bomb in her hair. Whatever. One idiot. Do not make me feel like I’m a goddamn criminal. Some of this crap TSA does is just down right stupid and I will voice my opinion to them.
So naturally, I still did my hair and had prepared to verbally abuse any TSA agent that tried to make a fuss over my hair. I walked through the body scanner and beeped. Of course. I’ve never walked through even an everyday metal detector without beeping. So they had me ‘assume the position.’ Something went off on my back, chest, and head area. A very nice lady agent came up to me and started the pat down and I told her I had clip-ins. She touched my hair in a way that a mom would do to her daughter when she’s bringing it away from her face. It was almost like she was fixing it. The only comment she made was that it was probably the big metal buttons on my shirt that set it off. Nice lady. Set a good tone for my trip. MOVING ON.

I landed late and got to my hotel even later. But it was fine. I had a huge king size bed to roll around in.

Now note that this is January. But not January in Colorado, but January in California. IT WAS SO NICE!!

I wore shorts.In January. I wore a dress. In January. I think it was about 80 degrees the entire time. Oh it was beautiful. Very strange not having three layers on.


I hit up a nearby mall and had some AMAZING food. Ohmygod. Islands Fine Burgers and Drinks…you will forever be in my heart. Typically, I HATE mixing sweet and savory. But they had these tacos with this pineapple and teriyaki salsa…my life began that very first bite. Five minutes, gone.


And then there comes the beach. I hate the ocean. I can swim fine, that’s not the problem. There’s just so much crap in there. And things that EAT YOU. No thank you. I’m fine without those parasites, sting rays, Portuguese man-of-wars, sharks, gross seaweed…URINE. I’m good from the sidelines, thanks. So I went to the beach, but did not go in the water. I looked at it though! And it was nice. I took this one from the Manhattan Beach pier. I could see the barnacles on the pier. Grossed me out pretty bad. Barnacles just…blegh.
I took the picture in a way that would not show the water treatment plant. Also gross. Smell of sewage if the wind blew the wrong way. I guess you eventually get used to it because it mixes with the ocean smell, but still.


Later went to the gay district with my dear friend and I am presenting to you: Hipster Realness.
We got these delicious but VERY strong drinks. One sip and I think we were both hammered. Two points to California for strong drinks. They cost enough anyways, better be something in them. And then we got these cute little burgers! Mine was some kobe beef burger with bacon. I stole his pickle. I love pickles.
Unfortunately, I can’t remember the name of the little pub we went to, but I’d know it if I saw it.


I really wish I had gotten a few more pictures of my trip. But I was more living in the moment. Still a little shocked at the fact that I willing traveled to California.

I took one selfie. Believe it or not, I don’t like taking pictures of myself. I will probably get out of that soon. I won’t post it here. I’m not particularly fond of it. But here’s a low quality picture of a beach sunset!


HAHA. Forgot one more thing. Saw this at the Islands restaurant and a few other places, too. California is just way to paranoid, I think. Don’t they know…everything causes cancer, nowadays.


Oh and get this. On the way back, I didn’t set anything off going through LAX. Did the body scanner, nothing. Maybe California is a little more accustomed to beauty secrets. Brownie points, LAX. Brownie points.


Kids Having Kids

Kids Having Kids

It’s a goddamn epidemic. We are not in a third-world country. We do not lack access to information. So why are so many young girls having kids? Getting pregnant isn’t even the issue anymore. The fact that these young girls are going through with the pregnancies, is. You HAVE a choice and that choice affects more than just you. Sure you blow up and get morning sickness and weird cravings and eventually have to push a watermelon out your peehole. But then who is going to pay for that $9,000 hospital bill? And who is going to buy all those baby supplies? And what about insurance and doctor visits? You really want to throw that hardship on your family? Oh no wait, you’ll get by with foodstamps, WIC, and basically the taxpayers’ money.

Do not misunderstand me. I support those government programs that help out those that need it. Everyone needs some help sometimes. Foodstamps can be a godsend for families and individuals struggling or just barely making it by. And WIC is an amazing resource. However…when you are 16 and 17 and 18 (and even younger, I’ve seen) and you are calling on those resources because YOU decided it would be a good idea to have a kid when you are a kid yourself…shame. When you think about it, it’s a little rude to be using someone else’s tax money for your poor decision. You wouldn’t need them if you had put more thought into your life.

Just take a step back for a second and really think if you really want to bring a new life into your current situation. JUST THINK FOR ONCE!

And not just the girls. These little boys running around sticking their pecker in anything that has a pulse and telling them it’s because of ‘love.’ Shame on you, too. Guaranteed, there is nothing wrong with your hand. Instead of spending money on that fake gold chain, those useless shoes that will be out of style by next month, or that cap to go with the rest of your collection, go buy a box of condoms. Take some damn responsibility. If you think you’re grown enough to have sex, be grown enough to buy condoms.

Talk about goddamn tunnel vision.

There are so many options out there but for one reason or another, they are not utilized.

I guess religion has played a role into this problem. There are religions that don’t allow birth control to begin with. Good for them. But you know what? Your god isn’t going to pay your bills or put food on the table. You can’t tell the hospital to bill your god for the delivery costs. Your landlord sure as hell isn’t going to accept that.
“Yeah, just fax an invoice to him. He’ll take care of me.”
No. That’s not how it works.
Why would you bring a new being into this world without knowing that you can provide for them without significant struggle?
“Because if it’s supposed to happen, god will make it happen.”
No. Use your brain. It’s simple biology. The sperm is supposed to find the egg.

After a while, it’s almost like these kids are doing it on purpose. How hard is it to use a condom? How hard is it to get on the pill? Or, and this is just the wildest idea of all, how hard is it to just not have sex?

99% of the time I honestly feel as though sex is overrated. It’s a process, it’s a hassle, it’s messy. I would rather sleep. Or go eat some delicious food.

Same Shit, Different Year

Cheerful, no?

Well it’s true. A close friend of mine explained it in a bit of a rant.

“The idea that with the simple turn of a clock, all of the problems from the day/month/year before will suddenly disappear and you are entitled to a pseudo-divine clean slate perplexes me. Your problems are still your problems, and they will only get better when you address them, regardless of when you do it. A positive attitude despite your challenges is a good place to start.”

True enough. It is a new year, but guess what, those cell phone contracts you’re in a still valid. As well as your mortgage, car payments, insurance, debts, relationship problems, anxieties, insecurities, etc. As far as personal growth goes, you should always have goals for yourself. You’re going to continue to grow, so why not? Of course, change definitely does not happen overnight, so it can be easier to lay out goals in the form of a New Years’ Resolution. And looking back on an entire, if you’re honest with yourself, can really give you a general overview of things. A lot of stuff can happen in twelve months. Circumstances change, karma kicks in, your luck is up, your luck is down.

So here is mine:
I will stop explaining myself. Which is funny in this aspect because I am explaining it right now. But in my everyday life, I will cease to do it. There are times when I do things, say something, act a certain way…and not everyone understands it. That’s fine. They might ask ‘why?’ and that’s fine, too. What is not fine, however, is when someone constantly tells me they don’t understand me and just as constantly wants me to walk them through my entire thought process. Eventually it gets to the point where I need to just walk away or do something so drastic that said person can grow the balls to walk away themselves.

I did not come with an instruction manual and you don’t get an answer key. I’m not going to change just because someone says I should. If I see I need to change something about myself, that’s when change will happen. If someone doesn’t fit your expectations of an ‘ideal person,’ then you just need to leave them alone. Stop telling them how imperfect they are in your eyes. Talk about rude.

There are the few that are in my life because I am the way I am. They are in my life because they want to be. They are in my life because they love me just the way I am. Those elite few don’t need explanations for why I do what I do, why I say what a say. So I’m not going to waste breath. The ones that try to come into my life, are going to have to get on board with that.

On another New Year note, it is the year of the snake! My year. Oooh Shaye for the win! I looked a bit up about those born during the year of the snake and here’s what I found about general traits.
Positive: The snake can be amiable, compromising, fun-loving, altruistic, honorable, sympathetic, philosophical, charitable, a paragon of fashion, intuitive, discreet, diplomatic, amusing, and sexy.
Pretty good, no? I definitely don’t agree with ALL of those in relation to myself, but then again I could just be a harsher critic on myself than others might be on me.

And the negative: The snake can also be self-righteous, imperious, judgmental, conniving, mendacious, grabby, clinging, pessimistic, fickle, haughty, ostentatious, and a very sore loser.
You know…just because these were slapped with the negative label by someone else, does not mean they are in fact negative. Take out the last bit about being a sore loser and you just have someone that’s a bitch. Even with the last bit, just a bitch. Of course if you overdo it, then yes, being a bitch can be a nuisance. But I’m a nice bitch. Promise.

I guess I, along with many others, am hoping this year will be significantly better than last year. No shame in that. But it’s only going to happen if I make it happen.

So in native traditional celebratory language, CHEERS! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!