The One with the Note

Sunday, May 31, 2009

I received this lovely little note on our car this morning:

I have a lot to say about this.

1. We've been parking in this spot in front of this house since the day we moved into our apartment over two years ago. So why now, all of a sudden and out of the blue, do they have a problem?

2. The reason we park there is
(a) it's shady so the car doesn't get blazing hot during these increasingly warmer summer days
(b) it doesn't get dowsed by the sprinklers every morning and leave water spots
(c) our neighbors smoke constantly (at least a pack a day, each, and there are about 5 of them) and I really don't like the smell of smoke so I try and park away from where they huddle
(d) while we do live on a corner lot and there is a parking lot in the back, I often come home carrying heavy buckets of scrapbooking layouts and I prefer to walk the shortest distance possible from the car and up three flights of stairs.

3. Our car is gone from 7:30am to about 7:30pm Monday-Friday while I work so why is it such a big deal?

Now my problem is how should I handle this situation?

1. WWJD - do as the note asks and park elsewhere. Just forget the whole thing and move on. Least confrontation. I don't like confrontation.

2. Write something nasty back and stick it on their door - but there are four different doors on this house with four different sets of people living in them so I don't know whose door to leave it on. This could get ugly. I don't like ugly.

3. Keep parking there and hope they don't key our car or something. We're only going to be living there for three more months. Plus, they don't own the streets, I can park wherever I want to. At least I thought I could. Our car isn't hurting them or causing them any damage in any shape way or form. I just don't get it.

Since I'd like to think I'm not a mean person, I'll probably stick with option 1. I just wish the note could have been a bit nicer. I don't like being yelled at first thing in the morning.

Vent over. Blogging sure is therapeutic.

The One with the Circle of (No) Life

Saturday, May 30, 2009

My life revolves around three of these: Google Reader, Blogger (hosted by Google) and Gmail (by Google). Not sure what the two dots and the flower icons are.

I don't know how I would survive without technology. Especially without Google.

The One with Black Rock Desert

Friday, May 29, 2009

From about 1993-1996 I was afraid of wind. As embarrassing as that is to admit, it was a true and honest fear.

I was terrified. Petrified. Paralyzed.

Even a leaf barely moving in the wind was enough to send me into fits. If wind speeds were over 20mph and I would run straight down into the tiny basement under the house where there are no windows and no sounds. I spent many a night sleeping in that hole.

It all started at Black Rock Desert in Nevada. It's a bunch of nothingness. We went to see a rocket show while my mom stayed at home and tended to our newborn baby sister. Everything was going great, I even had a new toy to play with. At one point I convinced my brother to ride our bikes out to the mountains. They looked really close, maybe a 10 minute ride. Appearances are deceiving though, especially in the open desert, because they were probably 15 miles or so away. But I'm not a good judge of distance. Anyways my dad must have known we wouldn't get very far because he let us go without hesitation. Those two black dots in the middle of the photo below are me and Eric riding out to the mountain. I remember we found bright orange flags that were all sticky with bugs stuck on them. Probably some environmental study. I tried to peel them off and save them, but no such luck. I felt bad for the dead and dying bugs. What a sad way to go.

Seeing rockets blast off was nothing new, but it was still fun to see and hear. My dad used to take us to various parks on Saturdays to launch his rockets. It was a great past time.

This man's rocket didn't fare too well upon landing...

I don't know what was so exciting that made Eric jump, but here he is, captured forever in mid-air. He so started the jumping trend 15 years ago.

This picture was taken just minutes before my life turned upside down. Those ominous clouds in the background are my arch nemesis.

With our campsite set up and hours of rocket launching behind us, we settled down to eat some spaghetti. One minute everything was fine and dandy. The next, everything was blowing everywhere and I couldn't see two feet in front of me because all the sand flying around. I started panicking and screaming, thinking I was going to be picked up and blown away. We climbed into the Trooper which I remember was rocking back and forth in the wind. My dad was scrambling around, packing everything up in a hurry because clearly we could not stay the night. I would have died in fear.

We finally got out of the desert and looked for the nearest hotel. It was really late. My dad made us kids go in with him in hopes that even though the sign said "no vacancy" they would give us a room. No such luck. We kept driving and found somewhere else to stay the night.

For the next three years, I was traumatized. I slept with the radio on right by my ear so I couldn't hear anything at night. I forced myself not to look out windows and see leaves rustling in the wind. I made my dad take out the center piece of the wind chimes so they didn't make any noise indicating it was windy. It was a horrible way to live, in fear, that I would get blown away.

Eventually, after we moved to Washington where there were trees galore, my mom had me meet with a grade school counselor. She said the best way to get over my fear was to submit myself to it. I remember the very afternoon I overcame my fear. It was a pretty blustery day. As scared as I was, I forced myself to go outside and surround myself with the wind. I realized then that nothing was going to happen to me. I was fine. Wind couldn't hurt me. I never slept in the shack again.

Every now and then, when the wind really picks up, I get a brief fluttering of the reminiscent fear in my stomach, but as quickly as it comes it disappears.

I was scarred for life, but now I'm over it and at least I'm alive to tell the tale.

(Random side note - that car in the last picture is still up and running. It's the Pooper Trooper. My sister who just got her license on Wednesday now drives it to school. I swear this car has 9 lives. Just when you think it's about to go to the dump, my dad gives it some TLC and pulls a Lazarus on it.)

The One when Paige Turned 24

Thursday, May 28, 2009

(singing)

"Happy birthday to me!
Happy birthday to me!
Happy birthday dear me!
Happy birthday to me!"

I'm just one year short of being 1/4 century old, but I'm still feeling young and spry!

To celebrate, I'm going to come home to a clean house (wink wink Chris!) and then he's going to bake me the ultimate, crème de la crème birthday cake: Funfetti! Tonight we're having pizza over at my Taylor Grandparents and tomorrow night we're eating Thai food with my Warner Grandparents.

The following are some pictures from my lifetime.

I bet this is the very first picture of me as cute little embryo.

Me in the womb!

Pardon me while I get rid of a little Jaundice.

Brand spanking new first time parents.

As I grew older I used to play "baby doll" with this basket. Funny that I used to fit in it.

I was one chunky baby. In a journal my mom kept for me, she told me that she would love me no matter how big or small I grew up to be. (Check out those vintage computers! Technology has come a long way in 24 years!)

I drooled so much I wore a perma-bib or else my shirts would be covered in spit.

Apparently I liked this ball because it's in a lot of pictures with me.

My one year old picture? Don't quote me on that.

Me and my studly Dald.

I've been told that weaning me away from pacifiers was a horrible experience. Sorry!

Grandma Warner and me in Florida.

Cheese!

Swing swing.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away! Growing up in California, the apples were always so delicious and flavorful.

Strike a pose!

I have ALWAYS LOVED ANIMALS!

The beginnings of my compulsive organizing - lining up every single item in the kitchen.

When I grow up, I want to be just like my Malm. I'll start by wearing her shoes.

Don't mind me, just heading out to celebrate Mardi Gras.

Rockin' the pig tales

My Mommy and her baby and me and my baby!

Alls I remember is that tutu was itchy.

I shudder at the sight of those bangs. Woo wee!

My very first bike.

Jelly shoes! Those are so back in style. What goes around, comes around.

Halloween in kindergarten. I was very very sick with strep throat, but nothing could get between me and my candy!

A school pic.

First day of first grade (maybe).

Playing in the mud. It's good for your skin you know.

Ummm...I think I'm a little too big for this game...Eric and Allie think so too.

I had braces when I was just 8 years old. Talk about traumatic! But it was only for a year and half so I'm over it.

6th grade. The beginning of my very awkward years when I would wear my dad's t-shirts to school every day. So I'll just skip a couple years worth of pictures.