All the white things in my life are being destroyed. I went to Vegas last week and brought with me my vast collection of white attire.  I went to a club the second night I was there, and now my gorgeous white semi-see-through pants are covered knee down in blood splatter. I think this is the end for those pants. $140 for the pair and only the second time I've worn them. Other people are disgusting.  I went to a pool the next day, and while I was soaking in a hotel pool listening to a guy talk about how to take weed on a plane by making a candle around it, someone either peed or spilt beer on my gorgeous white shorts. This resulted in my having to walk back to the hotel room through a crowded casino wearing nothing but a bikini and high heels. Then I get home and was putting my suitcase away and crunch I stepped on my white sunglasses that I love soooo much. The ones I'm wearing in almost every picture on this  blog.

Today, I told people I was leaving at 4:00. I left at 4:33. I arrived at my house at 6:58. Yes, 2 and a half hours in LA rush hour traffic.   I spend 30 minutes changing out my suitcase from work wear to Vegas wear, throw on the first three pieces of clothes that aren't already packed, do a parting wink at myself in the mirror, kick the dogs a few times, and tear out of there.  I get to the airport at 7:47; I check in without looking at my watch and am informed that my baggage is too late be guaranteed to make it on my flight. What my plane doesn't leave at 8:40! It leaves at 8:15. Who knew. I rush through security, waiting in line, as i hear another lady convince the security guard to let her cut cause she has an 8:15 flight. Ick. Why didn't I think of that. I make it through the beep machine after three tries and three removals of jewelry. My jewelry, the sneaky cons, forgot to remind me to remember to pick them back up after their removal. Ugh. This flight just went from 40$ to 80$. mmm.

So also, I'm scared, the flight, as the pilot says, will be jumpy today. I'm distracting myself my being disgusted by the lady next to me who keeps putting her trash on the seat between us. I don't like other people's trash. And I'm consoling myself by thinking about what an AWESOME time it would be right now for that BIG ONE earthquake that's coming to LA to happen.  I want to either be  in the sky when the 7.5 hits or in a Utah desert.

I'm famous by association by association. My sister had her blog post read online on the RADIO in MONTANA!!! Which is pretty cool if you are into micro blogs AND happen to live in the Missoula, MT (how's that for two circles that have no union) and or happen to listen to old archives of micro blog audio files.  Anyone... Anyone...<Cricket chirp> <Cricket Chirp>.  Sis, you amazed me with your ability to have an obscure event occur as a cause to your obscure effect. It's like our own butterfly effect.  The people in Montana have had their lives altered by my sister of all people!

The founder of onesentence.org, Ryan McMichael, was interviewed on 100.5 The Rock KJJM and read my sister's post as one of his favorites.  The post is under the heading Reno Reading

So my sister(s) is in the top 10 posts of all time on favorite micro blog www.onesentence.org. Rating is based on voter popularity.

Go to the site and vote. We want to be #1. Seriously, it shouldn't be that hard; the one's rated above her are good, but not better than a childhood misunderstanding perpetuated by a smarmy older brother.

I wanted to tell everyone the background of the sentence, and I've written and erased it a number of times. I have decided that I won't go into anymore detail so as not to destroy the mystery and surprise of the sentence itself. The sentence is super popular for a reason. Wouldn't want to change the environment of something that's performing successfully.

Just don't tell Abby that the word internet from her post is supposed to spelled with a capital "I."  And she thinks she's good enough to critique my blog and say elitist things like "Uh, womb is not the same as whom"

Yesterday, I bought my third pair of white pants. The cost per wear of these things is like $15 dollars. Totally, an absurd waste of money. 

Today, I experienced my second Los Angeles earthquake. This one, a 5.0, seemed significantly less powerful than the 5.4 one I experienced last year. Even though the epicenter of this one was 25 miles from my house instead of the 45 miles of the one from last year.  That .4 makes a big difference. This one didn't even get my nerves riled. Probably, cause it happened for less than a third of the time of the previous one. I didn't have time to think if I should grab my sharky fruit snacks and head for the streets. Still, it scares me. LA is not the place you want to be when a massive earthquake hits. You want to be in Utah hiking through the desert. Oh, no, some red sand is sifting! Of course Utah probably doesn't get earthquakes. Shame. Maybe I should move there.

Also, I wanted to share with you what I use for a homepage. I use a randomized wikipedia page. Trust me it is random. You get to see the dregs of Wikipedia. Still, though, it's nice to see all the things that exist that otherwise I would never think to think of. Like today, my screen opened up to the Live in Vienna album details of the German band Böhse Onkelz. They existed in MY LIFETIME and I had NO idea. Use the url: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Randompage as your home page and you too will be amazed at all the things you don't care about.

Today, I went to yet another cupcake group sponsored by my friend and VERY popular blogger Tara from When Tara Met Blog . This chick has over 10,000 hits on her blog A WEEK. This time we went to ButterCake Bakery in West Hollywood.

Also there, was the ever present stereotype who's all "blah, blah, I really shouldn't be eating all these, just look at my thighs". And I'm so over it. You're at a cupcake club meeting, eat your damn cupcake, and leave us out of your insecurities.

So then I was on my way to get a facial, and ended up instead throwing more money at lululemon. I got a hat, a workout thong, and a cute "workout top" that I'm so going to wear jeans with. I find that I find a brand and become obsessed and purchase their product exclusively. This happened with lululemon/athletic clothes, Mario Badescu/skin care, Bebe/party wear. And I still can't find a regular, "casual clothes" clothes store to sink my teeth into and make eyes at. Hence, my casual wardrobe is a notch above pathetic and usually consists of lulus that I try to pass of as "hang around town" wear.

So first things first. Tonight, I tried to open a bottle of wine with a bottle opener that I couldn't get out of its package.  I only ended up with a little cork in my drink. Things could have been worse. I was getting ready to scoop out the cork with a fingernail file.

I wanted to tell you about the new critter story I have. As you know from previous blog posts, animals hate me. It's ok. I hate them too. Mangy creepers that snot all over you're leg (THANKS A LOT CHERRI) uuuuugggghhhhh.  At least I think that's the name of the damn Doberman that wiped his nose all over my beautiful lulus. I've lived with these 2 Dobermans for over 9 months now and still can't remember which one is which. It coulda been Ruby. I guess it dosn't matter, I despise them both equally. Wait, that's not true. One of them wheezes and that's nasty.

So anyway, I was in Point Reyes. Julie and I decided to go hiking. We drive to the spot, and I open my glove compartment to throw my keys in only to find a full sized NEST in there. A NEST!  On closer inspection one could see it was entirely possible for a critter to crawl up through the engine and make it's way in to the glove compartment. I was horrified. The critter had chewed up some of my paper materials and had waived them into the nest.  Validated parking passes are hot on the list in critter real-estate these days. Then he peed on my MAP of LA! It looked as if the nest had started as a discarded piece of laundry dryer fuzz and was just dragged with enhancements into my car and set up for a night of camping. I spent a good hour reflecting on the "Why me's" in my life before saying "F-It, the wildflowers await." 

Last weekend I went to Point Reyes again. The park doesn't hike itself.  Stayed at the Point Reyes youth hostel, hiked every morning, studied every night. I've never been hostling before. And now I know why nobody goes to these places. People aren’t avoiding torture, they're avoiding the weird crazies that stay up in there. Hostels, if you havnet been, are like dorm rooms. You stay in a room with like 20 other people. The rest of the house is open for people to sit and read and cook and hid from elk. Now, this hostel unlike many others, HAS Wi-Fi, they just won't let you get to the Wi-FI. The owner, an INCREDIBLY hot, young, tall, chiseled blonde (OMG, is this stunning goddess for real running a hostel!), decided that she wanted to foster discussion amongst the guests so no Wi-Fi internet allowed! And discussion we got. Lots of crazies up in hea.

One of the ladies at the hostel kept loudly announcing to every one that she had just been laid off from her job and so SCREW them, she's going on a vacation by golly for 2 months. She has a degree from DeVry did you know and so it's the company's loss cackle, cackle, cackly, she's going on vacation. Julie (my traveling buddy) was all "lady, when you get laid off it's not called vacation, it's called unemployment." This lady also happened to be a softw... (oops, I mean) former software engineer. When she heard Julie and I were also technologists, this clearly nutcase started screaming about how "good for us" and "men try to keep you down" and "I have a degree from DeVry" and we were all "you are exactly the type of woman we hate being in our industry. The kind who are actually strange and clearly incompetent and when they get laid off for being a loony it's all discrimination this and discrimination that" 

Another one of the creepers at the hostel kept talking about how he thought that women should realize that women in PlayBoy don't actually look like that. That most of those pictures are either computer generated and the models are airbrushed. As if airbrushing can solve all physical deformities. Girl: "Doctor, Doctor, I just fell and knocked all of my teeth out and my nose bone is now jammed clear through my forehead and worst of all I have a PlayBoy audition tomorrow." Doctor: "What are you freaking out about, they have airbrushing don't they?" Julie and I were all "You have seen the lady who works at this place, right?" The guy then continued to make the point that full-figured women were not only normal, but were also preferable. He used the following analogy, "My sister likes going to the gym with African American women, and she likes it cause it makes her feel skinny"   Literally, I was so dumbfounded by this logic as being proof that bigger women were better that I had to get up immediately and go to bed to allow my brain to process all the new information while it was asleep. Maybe I'd jolt up in the middle of the night and scream, "Now, I understand!!"

Then there was the guy who tried to convince us that gay people should be allowed to get married as long as they didn't call it that.  Clearly, because words are more important than concepts . But he was only ok with it as long as the gays didn't go and get all perverted in the streets. And I'm all, well, you certainly were wise to leave the Poconos in Pennsylvania to come out here to San Fran cause I hear that the pervertedness in the Poconos is OUT OF CONTROL.  As I was leaving the living room after the aforementioned "black people make white people skinny by comparison" comment, I ended up giving my name to the "perverted gay people" guy. He instantly started pulling candy out of his pocket and shoving it at me telling me that ginger candy and ginger tea solve the majority of his health problems.

The next morning I get up and walk into the kitchen to be greeted by Julie and this red eyed fellow whom Julie had accidentally made conversation with the night before. Now, this man had gotten a reputation in the hostel for doing things like this. Normal person: "Well, I'm done here in the kitchen, I'm going to go read a book." Creepy red-eyed guy, "but I just got done making you food."  So the red-eye man was carrying on conversation with Julie as I strolled in. Without even looking at me and with me standing 3 feet away, he says to Julie about me "Who is she; is she staying with you?" I again am stunned silent, and I hadn't even spoken a word since the night before! I turned and stared at him viciously which he saw!, but it didn't matter. He continued on asking Julie "Is she taking the same test as you, does she work at the same company as you, is she leaving here on Thursday like you are?" Julie has more of a problem being out-and-out rude to people than I do, but even she was having trouble maintaining decorum at this point. I turned around without saying a word and went back into the bedroom with Julie hot on my heels where we screamed about the man for a good half hour until my serial killer self managed to sneak back into its chair in the corner of my mind. Later in the week, I found myself alone with this man in the kitchen. He tried to engage me in conversation. I am standing the same three feet away, and I don't even acknowledge his existence.  I was all "look who's invisible now MoFo." One of my prouder moments.

Well, I've have more stories of this trip which I may or may not get around to telling. Depends on if someone at work makes me angry tomorrow. I find I'm more in the mood to write when I'm pissed off.