Monthly Archives: December 2008

Trapped in the Desert

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Daniel and I are marooned in Jaisalmer, India for our fourth day now. We were lucky enough to get here right when it started raining for the first time in two years. Continuous rain and oddly cold weather pretty much put the city on lockdown. Our camel safari was swapped, we kind of got swindled (our fault) into another camel safari, and all we wanted to do was die a bit. The ride itself was entertaining but made our asses hurt – everything else was cold as shit and kind of miserable. Our attempt to get out of the desert a day early failed and we resigned ourselves to our room and woke up to a power outage. Now, we have another 6 hours to kill before we can board a 13 hour train to arrive at our next destination at 4:50am. It’s during this time that I plan to write a hip hopera set to R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet.”

Meta: Idle thoughts

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I should be writing a Sad Sigh about how 3″ of snow has virtually killed Seattle, causing buses to attempt to fly and causing me to wait 40 minutes in 20F weather this morning as bus after packed bus passed me because King County Metro can’t get its fucking act together. I could also talk about how SAND and SALT are not the same things and how whiny Seattlites get when I point out that a little NaCL spread nice and thick on our roads would prevent buses from trying to fly. They say “But it’s baaaaad for the environnnnmenttttt.” It snows 3 days a year here at most and you know what else is bad for the environment? Cities. 3 days of laying down some damn salt isn’t going to kill all the trees in the Evergreen State.

Anyway, that’s not why I’m writing. I’m writing because as I was one of the few people who could make it into work today, it was a pretty slow day and on slow days I mostly futz around with AdWords copy and surf around “learning” about CSS and javascript. And then it occurred to me as I mistyped a .com. Someone needs to create a new domain.

Then we could be sad-sigh.vom

Meta: Sad Sigh Makes You A Jerk

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When Dennis posted that he had been robbed at the gym again on Facebook, I responded simply with this blog’s title.  “Sad.  Sigh,” I said, encouraging him to post about his misery so that we could all delight in it.

Dennis asked me to instead post about my schadenfreude over his lost wallet.  Well, it wasn’t exactly schadenfreude.  It was more like…recognizing a Sad Sigh opportunity.  Without having any sympathy.

I blame Grace for the death of my compassion and for me being a jerk.

I got mine though, as I woke up this morning with a terrible migraine.  Dennis, for this I blame you.  Oh, and sorry about you being robbed.

Another awkward blog about my relationship troubles…

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When did I become the Cathy of Sad Sigh? And is Cathy even a relevant comparison anymore? Didn’t even SHE get married? Should I have said Bridget Jones? Or is THAT too outdated too. Oof. See? I’m even awkward about writing about relationships.

At the beginning of 2008, I made a deal with myself that I would put myself “out there” more (read: internet dating). Turns out, “out there” is a scary, scary place, full of insecure boys and terrifying facial hair. I have officially closed the Internet Dating Experiment because, in the end, this is what I got:

1. One relationship with a dude who told me he was interested in polygamy.

2. Three dates with someone who got progressively more insane as the evenings wore by, getting horrifically drunk on our last date and professing that he loved me. LOVED me. After a week and a half of knowing me.

3. A failed relationship with someone whose parting shot at me was that I was too smart to be dateable and who may or may not have had a small heart attack while we were having sex.

Sigh.

On top of which, I now have 4 weddings to attend in the latter half of 2009, and no one to attend with me, nor am I likely to meet anyone in Seattle, haven for the aggressively shy indie boy, a male type that drives me completely batty (except when this type comes in the form of the older brother of a high school chum, who I delight in flirting with as much as possible to make him feel uncomfortable). Another high school friend is engaged, and I seem to be the only person left from high school not in any sort of serious relationship. And, in the end, this blog is about making my high school friends feel extremely awkward with me oversharing, so I’m going to admit something on this blog that I would never, ever admit in person.

I AM AFRAID OF DYING ALONE.

We’re not in Los Angeles City anymore, Toto

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One of the things I found maddening about L.A. was the sheer number of people roaming the streets midday. I’m not talking about the homeless or even a recently laid off individual, I’m talking about the “kept” people whose spouses are so rich they never have to work a day in their life. My numerous lunches in ritzy parts of town like Manhattan Beach or the famed Beverly Hills didn’t make me jealous, they irritated me to no end. You would see moms with their nannies toting around well-dressed tots either for a fun day at the beach, or for a nice expensive meal at a see and be seen restaurant, on a WEEKDAY, not a weekend. Or, you saw hoity toity people with peeled back faces acting important when really, they were just jerks on a lunch date. I would discuss with whoever I was with how much these people sucked for a) not having to work b) making lunch the most important event of the day and c) being able to not work and spend lavishly without a care in the world. “Who ARE these people and why are they just walking around doing these things in the middle of the day – don’t they have anything to do?!”

Well, I left L.A. And now I’m practically unemployed. So today after dropping my mom off at work I went to my favorite townie place: Target. I was surprised at how busy the store was for a Tuesday morning. But even more surprising were the people who were out and about while most were stuck in offices. The majority were women, but they were different. They were saggy, and frumpy, and old. Not necessarily in a gross way, but just in a natural way. It kind of blew my mind. In L.A. I always had a complex being so casually dressed while dining next to the stars – if you count Tom Arnold as a star, like I was that kid in school with the ill-fitting hand me downs (my ill-fitting clothes were self-purchased, thank you very much). But here, at Target – granted, it was Target – I felt like there was no pressure and no judgment. In my ultra light weight running shoes, jeans that need a belt, and collegiate hoodie that shouldn’t be worn outdoors, I fit right in.

It was just so weird to see so many regular people during the day, not on a weekend, not wearing designer clothing whilst toting mini dogs in handbags. It’s not just a townie phenomenon. Even in S.F. there are fewer obvious douchebags milling about. Everyone knows how much I hated being in L.A. and how it made no sense for me to have stayed there so long. Here, and I’m sure just about anywhere, I feel oddly comfortable after having been so miserable for eight L.A. years. Right now, for reasons unknown, it feels good to be back in the Bay Area, living at home at age 26, and being relatively unemployed. I made the right decision to leave L.A. and get away from a life of the rich and famous. My fate was sealed when I walked an old Chinese lady to Aisle 26 to help her find Preparation H.