Ouch

My feet hurt.

Shoes

For my week long trip I had to pack a suitcase of clothes and a bag of shoes. I rarely even pack enough clothes so having to pack two bags is annoying to me. Usually I get to my destination and realize I cannot count how many days I will be gone and therefore pack for a weekend when I am staying a month.

This time though, due to the fact I will be walking miles around a hotel everyday, had to pack different shoes for everyday. Each pair gives me a blister in a different place. Walking in heels is warfare.

Dressing up is good for me, though. My patience meter for people ordering me around and talking to me like I am four is an unstable two when I am wearing jeans but jumps to an eight when I have on a suit. Oh the mysteries of life.

Lyrics of the week

After years of expensive education
A car full of books and anticipation
I'm an expert on Shakespeare and that's a hell of a lot
But the world don't need scholars as much as I thought
Maybe I'll go travelling for a year
Finding myself, or start a career
Could work the poor, though I'm hungry for fame
We all seem so different but we're just the same
Maybe I'll go to the gym, so I don't get fat
Aren't things more easy, with a tight six pack
Who knows the answers, who do you trust
I can't even seperate love from lust
Maybe I'll move back home and pay off my loans
Working nine to five, answering phones
But don't make me live for Friday nights
Drinking eight pints and getting in fights
Maybe I'll just fall in love
That could solve it all
Philosophers say that that's enough
There surely must be more
Love ain't the answer, nor is work
The truth elludes me so much it hurts
But I'm still having fun and I guess that's the key
I'm a twentysomething and I'll keep being me

Beach bum

Pictures from North Carolina:

This is the lake we went paddle boating on. Very pretty! Alligators too, but luckily they didn't eat me.


Yes, I am wearing a jacket, but the water was warm!

Someone's fault

I appreciate taxes that help other people. But damnit, I don't want to pay them.

Minnesota has all these crazy rules for auto insurance all of which is costing me about $300 more every six months than my Kansas car insurance. Unfortunately, my car insurance company found out that indeed I do not live in sunny Kansas but instead in traffic-crazed, icy road Minnesota.

I have to pay for underinsured and uninsured drivers, no-fault insurance plus everything else including the fact I live in a big city, don't take the bus and park outside on the street. Oh yeah, and I drive a "muscle" car and am young. They care only a little that I have never been in a car accident or gotten more than a parking ticket.

It's nice Minnesota is such a progressive state. I enjoy the prevalance of a third, sometimes fourth political party, the organic grocery stores and no tax on food or clothes. I, however, am not amused that I have to pay for idiots that don't bother to get insurance or decide to run me over with their cars. Also not amused by the fact I am being punished for not wanting to live in the suburbs and be surrounded by Olive Gardens and Kmarts.

Step one: Get rid of Mustang.

Step two: Move.

Southern relaxation

I'm in Wilmington, North Carolina aka Dawson's Creek central. I love this area of the country. So many trees, so green and so close to the ocean.

For the first time this week, I am headache and frantic free. Further proof that working a job is unhealthy, and I would be much happier just being a beach bum.

Plans for the weekend are to see sights from movies filmed here (it's called Hollywood East), eat lots of seafood, look longingly at the beach in the rain, shop, sleep in and enjoy a girls' weekend. And if I have to fly all the way to the South to get a weekend like this, I will.

Plus, if I say Louisville the right way here, they don't look at me funny. I originated as a Southern girl, after all.

At least I am not..

Dennis Hastert.

What's in a nickname?

Names I have been called by people I work "for:"

- Kiddo

- Buddy

- Girl

- Dear

And that was just this morning. Unfortunately I am not a 4-year-old. But man, I wish I was.

The Women of Philadelphia

I'm in line at Starbucks this morning, which is in the lobby of my hotel, and this man/woman is behind me talking about Jerry Lewis and doing a strip tease in the middle of the night because she was too hot in her hotel room. She has a voice that makes it completely unable to distinguish if she's man or woman.

I finally can turn around to look when I get up to order my mocha and she is wearing red plaid pajama pants, a black faded t-shirt, extremely damaged blond hair that goes past her shoulders and looks as if she has neglected to brush it for months, unisex glasses and a weird face. Add all this to the weird voice.

As I am waiting for my drink, Josh II (Josh is my Starbucks pal in Minneapolis, not his real name, or could be, who knows?) catches me staring at this woman as she deeply chatters away. He says "hey, how are you today?" with this big I-caught-you grin on his face. I start laughing and say "oh good..." He goes back to making his drinks with a huge grin on his face as well as a head shake and laugh occasionally with a glance at me.

Note: While all this is happening, I am definitely wearing polka dot flip flops, navy pajama pants that could probably pass for daytime pants, a K-State windbreaker, no makeup and unbrushed hair. It remains to be seen whether Josh II was thinking "that girl looks like she just rolled out of bed and came to the lobby for wireless internet, who is she to judge" or whether he thought I was cute and hillllarious.