Becca had gotten the day off from work after manning the office solo for nearly a week with the express purpose of visiting Fort Worden with her best friend and honorary big brother Nils since their work schedules rarely allowed for days off at the same time. After trekking out all the way to the park, Nils and Becca were very excited to be at the beautiful coastal area (and, more importantly, not at work).
The day was starting off wonderfully. Nils and Becca were armed with a flashlight in anticipation of exploring the old bunker, gummy sharks, granola bars, and Propel water. They were a little bit sad that it was so cloudy and not sunny and warm so they could play in the water, but they weren't about to let that dampen their day. Then they walked on a little farther, and noticed the first ill omen.
Nils and Becca were a little bit concerned about the tsunami hazard sign, but the beauty of the park soon let them forget their concern.
Fort Worden was infested with ZOMBIES!!!!
Fellow park goers were being attacked left and right! Becca and Nils had no idea where the zombies had come from, but there was no time to ponder these mysteries! Becca and Nils fled to the nearest secure looking structure, but it was locked.
So Nils and Becca fled to the ominous looking abandoned bunker in the distance!
Nils and Becca immediately started exploring the old bunker, looking to a place to hole up while they figured out what to do. The bunker seemed safe at first, and after a little while of searching, Nils and Becca allowed their guard to drop. Nils leaned up against a wall to take a break, then the zombies STRUCK! They seized his camera case and tried to pull him down to the room below!
Becca quickly picked up her camera to capture Nils in this hilarious position before she rushed to his rescue. The zombies were strong, but fortunately she and Nils were able to pry his camera case away from the zombies before he was dragged down. Nils cursed at Becca for taking a picture before helping, then he saw the photo and laughed. All was forgiven.
The two continued their exploration through the bunker. They seemed to be staying above the zombies, which appeared to be trapped in the lower level. Suddenly Becca remembered! She had a cell phone! They were saved! All she had to do was call the White House and demand immediate national guard assistance! Becca pulled her phone out of her bag and started dialing when she tripped and fell, dropping the phone down a grate! Without thinking, she lunged after it!
(Becca was tempted to be mad at Nils for taking pictures instead of rushing to her rescue, but after a moment of reflection she decided not to say anything.)
Nils was getting angry. "That's it!" he told Becca. "We have to get that phone!"
"No, Nils!" Becca cried, still shaking from her near brush with death. "There are zombies down there, in case you haven't noticed!"
"Well, what else are we going to do?" Nils demanded. "I'm going, you stay here!"
Paralyzed with fear, Becca watched Nils descend to the lower levels.
For a while Becca quietly pondered a life without Nils in a world filled with zombies.
Then she went after him. Unfortunately, her first attempt to find Nils didn't go very well.
Becca finally found Nils racing up a flight of stairs with zombies hot on hot on his heels!
Reunited, the two took a deep breath.
"What the hell are we going to do now?" Becca demanded. "We don't have a phone, we're totally surrounded, and there are zombies all over the lower level!"
"Well...." Nils was unhappy. "I guess we should go practice martial arts on the beach and prepare for the worst."
Becca thought he was kidding.
Suddenly Becca realized something. "Stay here," she ordered Nils, and before Nils could regain his balance as he came out of Shaolin Bear Strike, she was off, tearing across the roof of the bunker and down the ladder.
Five minutes and she was back with the phone. The national guard showed up a half hour later, killed all the zombies, and after giving Nils and Becca a thorough medical examination to make sure they weren't bitten, they were released and sent home.
What did Becca realize that allowed her to retreive the phone so easily?
Becca is really a superhero.
But don't tell anyone.
Two to three bedrooms, small lots, definitely no pools. And that first one is a manufactured home.
Of course, $300k would be completely out of my price range, along with the vast majority of other young adults in their mid twenties. Lets think about the first time home buyer and take a look at what we have for under $200k.
Ermm, no offense, but eww. Tiny, old manufactured homes on itty bitty lots in my least favorite area of the county.
BUT! Lets check a couple of random states!
If I felt like moving to Portland, Maine I could buy this:
So it's pretty ugly, but with some paint and landscaping it could be cute. I kinda like how weird it is. And it's four bedrooms, two and a half baths on over an acre with an in ground pool. For $158,200. And I love Maine.
Or if I took off to Huntsville, Alabama I could get this (I just have to point out real quick that in Huntsville one can get an ACTUAL HOUSE for under $20,000. WHAT?!):
Uh, this is pretty cute for a first time home buyer. Know how much it is? $65,900.
Hazen, North Dakota?
Three beds, two baths. Over two thousand sqaure feet. Larger lot. $89,900.
I've reached a conclusion.
I'm living in the wrong state.
It's frustrating to look around where you live and think to yourself, I will never be able to buy a house here. I hate paying rent, but even with the housing market crashing and burning and prices dropping like stones everywhere I look, there's still no way for me to buy something halfway decent.
Single men and women with decent jobs cannot buy a house in this area, unless they want to take a dive into the nasty part of the county. And I think there is something seriously wrong with that.
I visited my SiteMeter stats today for the first time in a looong time. Interestingly enough, the vast majority of my site hits come from people googling various search terms for Brazilian Wandering Spiders.
Maybe I should put a disclaimer in the header:
"The author of this blog knows very little about and is in no way, shape, or form an expert on Brazilian Wandering Spiders. She has an irrational fear of them and has made two or three blog posts about them over the past three years."
It's nice to know I have a niche...
I have to have a very loud alarm clock to wake me up and convince me to get out of bed if I expect to get to work on time (especially recently - I've been having a much harder time getting up since I started dreaming about Dean Winchester.... I've gotta stop watching Supernatural....).
One of the things that I hate the most about my morning ritual is this alarm clock. But not when it first goes off. No, I understand and appreciate the need for the alarm to go off at 7:30AM, even with the vast amount of emotional distress it causes me. What I hate is when I push the snooze button then get up and go take a shower without actually turning the alarm off. Then when I get out of the shower, feeling a little bit more awake and alert, almost cheerful, and I'm greeted by the hideously abrasive BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP that never ever stops. I rush into my bedroom swearing and clutching my towel with the ultimate goal of ripping the alarm clock away from the wall, running to my back deck, whirling it above my head, then releasing it, where it should fly down the street and into the bay, never to be seen or (more importantly) HEARD ever again.
So far I've managed to control my rage by the time I reach my bedroom and just flip the little switch that turns the alarm off before stalking off to get dressed.
It's just one of those random pet peeves that drive you absolutely nuts. And on a Monday morning, it's not really a great way to start the day.
Happy Monday everyone.
It's July 25th. Which means it's almost August. I was startled when I noticed the date this morning, and was struck once again by the realization that the warmer, sunnier months really do just fly past while you're looking the other way.
I always have a double handful of grandiose plans for summer (visit Prague), and three times as many simple plans (visit the beach once a week). Usually by the time I've realized that I haven't done any of the things I wanted to do, it's midway through September and it's nowhere near as warm and beautiful as it was a month or two ago. So I shrug, and I say to myself "I'll do it next year."
Well, suddenly next year has rolled around. Want to know how many times I've been to the beach this summer?
As I get older it's becoming more and more important for me to make sure I do more than go to work, put my nose to the grindstone for eight hours or more, then come home, play some video games or watch a movie, and go to bed. I want to be doing so much more than that, but generally by the time 6:30 rolls around, I've finished work, I've gone to the gym or my yoga class, and I've finally gotten home. I think about taking off to the beach or riding my bike down to the store for strawberries, and I just can't make myself get off the couch. I'm tired.
I'm also tired of sitting around the house doing nothing.
Before it's over, this summer:
I'm going to Bumbershoot for sure, and maybe Warped Tour. Both are summer music/arts festivals that I have a blast at. It's been years since I've been to either one.
I'm going camping for at least one night.
I'm going to the beach, damnit!
I'm visiting Fort Flagler.
I'm going to Seattle to wander around and hang out.
I'm going to ride my bike more.
I'm going hiking at least once.
And so end my summer ambitions for this year.
Maybe next year I can go to Prague...
I slept really well last night and have regained my power to speak in complete sentences. Which means it's time to write about the Judas Priest show.
This is what Becca looks like after she spends all night watching Judas Priest rock Seattle and hanging out with her friends. Then goes to bed at 6:30AM. When she has to be at work at 8:30AM.
Becca is not enjoying work today.
Just in case you were wondering, Becca is still not enjoying work.
Somehow Becca has managed to sound reasonably intelligent when speaking with clients, but she's tripped (several times), walked into a wall (once), and knocked her phone into the garbage can (twice. unfortunately no, I'm not kidding).
And now that she's writing this, she's realizing that this isn't all that different from a normal day. Except on a normal day she doesn't have anything to blame the clumsiness on...
The Scene: Pat and I are sitting outside about to water plants. Pat appears in a contemplative mood. I am contemplative as well. I am contemplating very seriously how to bypass the spider webs without actually touching any of them so I can get to my hose.
Pat: I wonder what it takes to reach 'plague' status.
Pat: You know. A plague. I wonder when it becomes a plague, and not 'that nasty bug that's going around'.
Me: Oooh. (I'm thinking about something that logically should come before plague. I'm searching for the word, and I can't for the life of me remember the what it is. Of course, NOW I remember. EPIDEMIC. But I didn't remember at the time, so the silence stretches on as I wrack my brain which apparently retains information about as well as a colander retains water. )
Me: I don't know.
Pat: But plague doesn't just apply to illness. Like 'a plague of locusts'. How many locusts does there need to be to have a plague of them? And can that apply to anything bad that there are a bunch of?
Me: Definitely. Like on my back deck there's a plague of bees.
Pat: (laughs) I think that any more than one bee is definitely a plague. And you definitely have a plague of bees on your back deck.
Me: And in my kitchen there are a plague of dirty dishes. And in my hallway a plague of disorganized CDs. And in my bedroom a plague of laundry...
And at work today I've been harassed by a plague of phone calls while simultaneously trying to handle a plague of faxes and help a plague of clients....
One of my all time favorite thing to do is go to concerts. Give me a metal band in a small venue and I'll be happy for weeks. Somehow I have been to exactly zero concerts this year.
So, kicking off my new concert calendar for the summer and fall is........
JUDAS PRIEST. Playing with TESTAMENT.
Small venue? Well, no. But how does one pass up the opportunity to see Judas PRIEST? I certainly haven't figured it out.
I'm going to have Ram it Down stuck in my head all day now.
The worst part of a bad sunburn isn't the day or two after the initial burn when it feels like someone tarred your back and set it on fire. You're expecting it to hurt, you're prepared for it. It sucks, but you suck it up and deal with it.
No, the worst part of a bad sunburn is when it's been almost a week. You've been religiously keeping the burn moisturized with aloe lotions and it's finally starting to not hurt that much any more. You're even able to go to your yoga class and stretch without crying.
Suddenly, without warning, huge sheets of skin peel off. The skin underneath HURTS LIKE HELL and the aloe lotion that was the soothing balm you relied on so heavily a week ago just makes this new skin STING (and when I say sting, I mean STING). So you're back at square one, with the tar and the fire feeling, except you weren't ready for it this time and it really really hurts AND it's still not done peeling so it itches....
*** out of ****
I wasn't expecting anything out of this movie. I mean seriously, I'd heard some pretty awful reviews. It's always great when you go into a theater expecting to see the worst thing to ever hit the big screen, and end up with something ten times better. Besides, how could I not go see a movie about a bunch of assassins led by Morgan Freeman?
Premise: The Fraternity. A deadly brotherhood of assassins (plus one woman) formed a thousand years ago, graced with near supernatural abilities, taking the names of their targets directly from fate. Enter inconsequential cubicle dweller whose life gets completely turned around when he is recruited by The Fraternity to hunt down the traitor who killed his father.
Okay, I'm going to come out and say it now before I go any further.
Why does Angelina Jolie look like a holocaust victim? And furthermore, why does she think that she can be an action hero with arms that look like toothpicks?
I spent every scene where she did something that would have required any kind of strength or stamina laughing behind my hand. Oh, and the scene where she's beating up McAvoy? I wasn't even bothering to laugh behind my hand. I'm assuming her character was meant to by alluringly dangerous, and Jolie fails utterly and completely to provide that kind of magnetism. Why is this stick-thin ideal still perpetrated? Who thinks that sunken cheeks and frail limbs are attractive? If Jolie ever wants to act in an action movie again, I would suggest she gain some freaking weight. MUSCLE, Jolie, MUSCLE. It is your friend.
You know who would have been BAD ASS as Fox?
There's an action heroine.
It's too bad, really. Fox was a wickedly cool character who was beautifully illustrated and fleshed out through the film, and held true to her motives until the end.
Anyway. I'm done ranting now, promise.
The movie was surprisingly well done. I wasn't so sure when it started - it has a pretty shaky beginning - but if you can get through the silliness of the first third you can start to appreciate the character development and killer action scenes, especially the ones that start popping up towards the end of the film.
James McAvoy (Wesley Gibson, main character) did a fine job. His character's transitions from Disinterested Slacker to Eager Wannabe to Determined Warrior to Wrathful Son were very black and white and didn't allow for a whole lot of room for easing into each phase of the character, but McAvoy did very well.
The storyline was entertaining and fun to follow, and though it throws in the usual quota of predictable twists here and there, it leaves you satisfied. This movie also features my new very favorite 'go in guns blazing' scene ever.
(Keep in mind before you watch this that this flick is rated R for a reason, and this is a violent clip)
Anyway, surprisingly good movie, I'd recommend seeing it if you enjoy action films. Aside from my aforementioned problems with Jolie, I enjoyed this move quite a bit. Don't take it too seriously - it certainly doesn't take itself too seriously. And the very last scene in the film is worth the price of admission all by itself.
"This is me, taking back control of my life. What the fuck have you done lately?"
Ahh, Engadget, it's been too long since I've visited you...
My cat, and many (if not all) of the numerous other cats I have encountered, would go bananas for this. But I can't help but feel it seems a tad unnecessary...
"Cat Faucet solves elusive cat drinking from sink issue, we sigh in relief
Cats like to drink from everywhere but the places they're supposed to drink from, and for that they offer no excuses, reasons, and just walk away, tails in the air. This independent spirit, though, means that we're often stuck turning faucets on and off for thirsty felines because heaven forbid they drink from a dish. One crafty soul has solved this gripping conundrum with an IR detector, valves, some plastic tubing, and a whole lot of moxie. The detector can even suss out if the subject is human or feline in order to keep the faucet from triggering every time someone walks by. Our test subjects won't comment on the new tech, but they've stopped complaining and have become extremely athletic and hydrated super-cats of doom. Still reading? Peep the video after the break of hot kitty drinking action.
Okay. Come on. My cat loves the bathroom faucet, but I'm not going to go rig up or purchase some special contraption to attach to my plumbing just so she can spend all day wasting water. She has a bowl of fresh water changed multiple times a day, for crying out loud.
I love my cat as much as the next person. Although Stella is still a little too bite-happy for my nerves, she's the 'person' who greets me every day when I come home from work, sits and watches movies with me, always wants to be in the same room with me, lends me her moral support when I have to clean the bathroom or kitchen, makes me laugh when she decides she wants to play fetch.....
How do I get one of those things....?
So this afternoon my mom texted me at work with this:
Myspace is not my favorite thing ever but I still keep in contact with several friends through the site, so I log on every now and then. I logged in today to check mail, and on the sidebar where they keep the big obnoxious advertisements I saw THIS:
(*crossing fingers* Please don't get sued for snaking that image...)
I got a good laugh out of it. I admit, I'm not familiar at all with dating sites, but this just seemed silly. And shallow. And wrong.
So of course I clicked on it.
Apparently this is "where the classy, attractive, and affluent meet". The front page told me I could start interacting with the most attractive, wealthy, and desirable people in online dating, should I so choose. Still, I was hesitant. Even though they proclaimed they had been delivering a superior dating service since 2002 I was wary, so I decided to check out their testimonials.
Well! High praise from a lot of rich men who hooked up with beautiful women. And hey! Even a few recommendations from some satisfied ladies!
I was impressed. I was convinced. I was ready to meet attractive, wealthy, desirable people.
I went back to the home page and selected "I am a woman looking for a Sugar Daddie (male)" from the drop down menu. I left the country set at "All Countries". After all, who would turn down a foreign Sugar Daddie? Age, lets see... well, I'm not going to be too picky if they're affluent and pretty. Between the ages of 21 - 45? Sure, why not.
Goodness. There's certainly more than a few decent looking guys, and several showing off perfect steroid sculpted bodies. Hey, check it out! A 40something man introduces himself with the quote "WELCOME TO THE PLEASUREDOME!" Dream come true! Ooh, here's another one that sounds promising: "Cadillac on the loose seeks brakes". I'll give him points for being creative.
Unfortunately one can't view full profiles without registering, and though I clearly could see that the site would definitely be able to hook me up with the Sugar Daddie I had been waiting for all my life (as long as I put on something slutty that showed off my breasts for the profile picture, of course) I didn't feel that I was quite ready to take that next step.
So what did I do next? I wrote a blog post.
In all seriousness, although I do feel a little bit bad for making fun of this dating site..... HOW SHALLOW IS IT? I mean, honestly!
***1/2 out of ****
"He lied to me. Now I can't think of one reason big enough for him to lie that's small enough not to matter."
I can never consistently post on this blog. There will be weeks where I post every single day, and weeks were I don't post anything at all. I'm very easily distracted.
So, because I'm suffering from a bad case of writer's block, here are some of the things I've been distracted by this time around:
1. GORGEOUS WEATHER! It's finally summer here in good old western Washington. Not that I've really been doing anything outside, but man, that sun sure does look pretty coming in through the windows! Of course, it is awfully bright, and it does make my computer monitor hard to see. And it's soooo hot... I can't do anything but lie comatose on the sofa when it's this hot.
Where the hell did the rain go??? I live in Washington because it RAINS, it's not allowed to be 90 degrees! Erm, hey, autumn? You coming our way any time soon?
2. Hellgate: London. It's a fantastic game, and has made for a nice break from the World of Warcraft grind to 70.
3. I discovered that Dean Winchester from Supernatural (a.k.a. Jensen Ackles) is the most divinely beautiful man alive. Plus, his character is perfect. Just the right combination of tortured angst, arrogance, and silliness. And did I mention that he was divinely beautiful? Look!
Oh, and the rest of the show is awesome too. Very fun, and surprisingly good. Can't wait for the fourth season to start airing. I just plowed through all three seasons, and I'll be writing a review eventually.
4. Guitar Hero. Yep, it's pretty sad. Do I care? No.
(I just beat it on medium. I rock!)
5. Booze stealing raccoons. In this story I get drunk, think the raccoon hanging around my porch is trying to steal my alcohol, and.... well, anyway... that's a story for another time. Yeah.
And that's about it.