Stuck in Airports...

Oh. My. God.

I'm on the flying journey from Hell.
Got to SFO at 9:15 thinking I needed to be there 2 hrs before my international flight, not realizing that I was actually supposed to be in the domestic terminal bc the first leg of my journey is to Chicago (where I am now). And who would have thought the whole Bay Area would be at SFO in the domestic terminal at 9:30 PM on a Sunday night??! Jeez. It was so crowded and I was basically rushed through check-in and security.

Got to my gate and waited for a good hour and a half, no big deal. Got on the plane, window seat, ok things are getting better. Then a man, who was bald and quite large sat in the middle seat next to me and I'm like ohhhh no.

We take off, all good. Man next to me starts snoring. Oh HELL NO. Then a baby starts crying. Then another baby starts SCREAMING. I kid you not. So it's like 12:30 in the morning and all I want to do is sleep through this flight and I can't. Kill me.

We land in Chicago at 5:15 AM Chi-town time (aka 3:15 SF time) and I'm up. I sleep on a bench at the terminal like a bum, Tom Hanks in The Terminal style for a good two hours, then I wake up and I'm bored (again). Then Jesse McCartney sits across from me HAHA poor guy. some teenage girls accosted him just as he was leaving and asked for a picture. I was still looking like a bum. Excellent.

Now more waiting till my flight at 1:15 to Toronto, and more waiting till my next flight (finally) to Madrid. I hope I make it there without pulling all my hair out... One minute 33 seconds left before my time runs out on this airport computer... Adios amigos!!

Bon Voyage, Mon Amis!!!

Departure: 

6/28/09  11:35 PM  SFO

Arrival:

6/30/09  11:10 AM  MAD

Yes, that's correct. A 36-hour journey to get to Madrid. I kid you not.

I single-handedly vacuum-packed all my clothes today (using ZipLoc storage bags and my butt to sit on the bag and squeeze the air out... surprisingly effective), which left me with twice as much space in my duffel bag. YES! In the small rolly I'm checking in there is: all my toiletries, a Longchamp tote bag, and high heels. Everything else is sitting in ziploc'd bags with my name and address on them in my duffel/carry-on. Must admit I'm very impressed with myself.

Pray that my luggage makes it to Madrid with me. PLEASE.

See you on the other side of the world!!!

Hard Labor and Great Rewards

I now know why fruit is so damn expensive... it's freaking hard work picking it!!! I sweated and burned from the hot hot heat, and then sweated some more out in Brentwood today, picking peaches, apricots, nectarines, plums, and cherries. 

Wow, in hindsight it actually sounds quite impressive.

Anyway it was hard. labor. 

a) I know nothing about picking peaches... they were all rock hard and I like my peaches soft so I was very confused. (Like... why are they telling me I should be picking these peaches that are hard as rocks and then asking me to pay $2 per pound for them???)

b) it was about 2,000 degrees outside. Ok, small exaggeration. I still managed to sweat off probably all my water weight... if any of my weight can be attributed to "water" as opposed to the McDonald's that I frequented while at school... :)

After we picked (and ate) enough fruit, we decided to head over to Napa--Mom wanted to visit the wineries she hadn't seen in years, and I wanted to drink. Perfect. Except, well...

I know it seems like common sense, but farms are dirty places. Literally, there's a lot of dirt. And hot air blowing the dirt around. So as you can imagine, I looked super sexy rolling up into Domain Chandon, the beautiful champagne winery, completely sweaty, clothes wrinkled, red cherry juice all over my brand new Rainbows, dirt on my toes, hair attempted to be smoothed down... Oh you know, no big deal. Nothing like going to a swanky place looking like you slept amongst the hogs and the hay last night. I love it.

Ignoring the fact that we probably smelled worse than wine gone bad, we visited three vineyards, did two tastings* (well, I did two, Mom got too "happy"** after the first one), and walked away with two bottles. Success!

Then we pulled into a little burger place on the side of Highway 29 (forget the name, sorry! But right across from Merryvale winery if you ever go) that had the best garlic fries ever. Just enough garlic to get the taste but not too much that nobody wants to touch you with a ten foot pole ;) 

After dinner we walked around downtown Calistoga (which looks a lot like downtown Saratoga--one short street of quaint little shops and restaurants) and visited the Indian Springs, a collection of cottages that we stayed at once when I was a kid. Oh, memories... as in, the memory of Sam and I sitting in the hammock outside our cottage... and then flipping over and landing face down in the grass. Yay.

Day trips rock: fun fun fun and then home in time to get clean and jump into your own bed at the end of the day :)

*Don't worry, Sam was the DD ;)

**Mom never gets "drunk" she just gets "happy" as she likes to call it. We play along that we believe her. 

Femme Fatale? No: The Fatale of Les Femmes: Efficient Packing.

With 4 days left till I embark on my flying nightmare (13 hours worth of layovers and 2 days worth of flying before I land in Madrid) and subsequent European adventure, packing has commenced! That is to say, it definitely commenced but it hasn't really gone anywhere since.

I usually look forward to packing, because I get excited about choosing the outfits I'm going to wear wherever I'm going, you know, "This is the perfect outfit for Paris!" and then I picture myself walking around Paris in said outfit. But this time I had decided to confine myself to carry-ons only, because of my bad luck with lost luggage (I still have a personal vendetta against Hawaiian Airlines) and hectic traveling schedule.

So: one duffel bag and one backpack. The idea of it is frightening... horrifying. 5 weeks out of carry-on-sized luggage??? What am I doing to myself, self-inflicted torture? It's like packing for boot camp in some remote place where all you need is clean underwear and a toothbrush. Except I won't be going to a remote place, I'm going to some of the most beautiful places on Earth. And instead of looking uber-cute (as I had of course planned on) I will probably look like one of the gypsies that steal money from tourists: dirty. Well... plus side: maybe they won't steal from me if they think I'm one of them. On second thought, doubtful, I'll just look like a dirty tourist.

Naturally, that plan went out the window after I literally sat in front of each piece of clothing and stared at it trying to decide just how badly I wanted to lug it all over Europe, and still couldn't bring myself to leave some things behind. I even brought Sam into my room to help me in the final elimination, but for every piece she vetoed, I defended its importance and insisted on keeping in the "take with me" pile. FAIL.

So, now I've cooked up a new master plan. I'm checking in a small-ish, medium-ish (depends on who you ask, these things are all relative) rolly suitcase filled with only liquids and 2nd string clothes (aka things I can't carry on), and then carrying on all my 1st string clothes and shoes. 

Guaranteed success, I love it. The only thing is, now that I have more room, the "take with me" pile is getting bigger. Again. 

Oy, back to work...

Friends Forever

I have been reminded recently of the importance of having friends.

It's not that I didn't know this before, but in the uncertainty of graduation, the subsequent scattering of all my friends around the world suddenly seemed like the pink elephant in the room that nobody wanted to talk about. Keeping in touch somehow seemed so impossible, so I quietly accepted that all the friends I'd accumulated in my four years at college would become memories. Looking ahead to my year abroad, I started to wonder what the point of it all was, if I was only going to be leaving again, with another set of friendships left behind...

I know, a very depressing thought. 

But I got a phone call today that reminded me of just why it's important to make friends, and why it's even more important to keep them. Because in making new friends you leave the door open to meet those people who will always stay in your life, and who will make you feel like you've never left each other at all. 

Friends are easy to find, but hard to keep. Like I learned from my encounter with public transportation, there's always some obstacle that will present itself and keep you from staying in touch. But friendship surprises you, and you learn this just when you begin to lose faith. And after a conversation over coffee, or canadian ham and bacon, or on the phone, or on gmail chat, you remember why you became friends in the first place, and how lucky you are to have them. 

Mom always says great friendships are those that leave you feeling refreshed and fulfilled. This post is dedicated to all my friends who've kept up with me, who've been there for me, and who've always been great friends to me. And especially to Aileen, Maggie, and Niki for being the first to read & comment on my blog, it really means a lot, I love you guys!!! :)

Against All Odds

Today I braved the horrors of public transportation and put myself on a 3-hour journey to and from the beautiful city of San Francisco. Now, having safely arrived home, I can proudly say I am a survivor of public transportation! 

Well, barely.

As you may or may not know, I typically am not a big fan of public transit. The few experiences I've had with public transportation have, quite frankly, left me scarred with terrifying memories of dirty and drugged (I'm convinced) homeless people harassing me for money, suspicious-looking men giving me the eye, and gum stuck to every possible hard surface. Busses are the worst.

Anyway, I decided to save some gas money, and mileage on Sexy Lexy (she now has over 130,000 miles! Poor gal!) and take the Caltrain & BART into the city. I mean, I just graduated college, I was pretty sure I could handle a small thing like this. Getting the right ticket, getting on the right train, getting off at the right stop--a breeze, right?

Apparently not. Not only did I miss the very first train for the first leg of my journey, but I managed to miss the second train by even less time (about hm, 30 seconds?) and then miss my stop. 

Jess 0, Public Transit 3. 

Oh well, nothing lunch with good friends, a big glass of wine, and some retail therapy can't fix right? And that's just what I did.

Against all odds, I learned some valuable lessons today: 

1. Be on time for public transit. They are always on time.

2. When at first you fail, try again. If you fail again, look for a place that sells wine.

3. Friendship is always worth the effort, even if that means taking public transportation.

for PRoe, Reezy & Steph--had SO much fun with you guys today!! can't wait for next time! ;) Love you gals!

Home Sweet Home

It's been exactly three weeks and six days since Graduation, with a capital G. It still boggles my brain that I'm now a college graduate, and no longer a college student, and I don't think I've fully grasped what that means, or the reality of what that means, yet. Gone are the days of sleeping in, skipping class (sorry Mom), late-night cramming, binge drinking, and more seriously for me, binge eating (haha sad but true), and in its place... what?

Following the big hulabaloo that was Graduation, I spent about three weeks living with my dear, dear grandparents--not particularly by choice, and I don't recommend it unless you don't have a choice, like me. Now, I love them, but being 21 and having just graduated from college doesn't exactly make me the best candidate to be roommates with my 80-some-year-old grandma and 90-some-year-old grandpa. I think I may have aged about 60 years in my stay there, having read a ton of books and finished an obscene amount of jigsaw puzzles... I will say, though, that my grandma is still a rockin' good cook!

This brings me to the present: home, finally. Nothing says welcome home like "Yeah, we noticed you got fat, especially around your hips." I love my Mom. I really do, I swear... most of the time. Coming home and moving back into my old room made me realize two things: one, that I have way. too. much. stuff. It took me a record three days to sort through everything, try to cram everything into my closet (oh my shoes!!), and throw out the things I don't need anymore (goodbye 90s boombox). Two, that I feel like I'm 16 again--under my parents roof, and therefore, bound to their rules. Damn it.

Life from here is taking rather a sharp detour from what I had always imagined it would be. I assumed I'd graduate and, like most other kids, get a serious job, my own apartment, and start the 9-5 drudge of real life. Luckily (or could be unluckily, you'll have to keep reading my blog to see how things go haha!) for me, Dad put up a serious offer on the table: move to Taiwan for a year to learn your native language all on my expense and I'll send you to Europe for 5 weeks. Now, I don't really consider myself business-savvy or anything, but even to me it seemed like an offer I couldn't refuse, so I didn't... after much discussion with family and friends.

So for now, I'm playing the waiting game: two and a half weeks till I say bon voyage and leave for my European adventure. This gives me exactly two and a half weeks to figure out what I'm going to pack, and more importantly, how I'm going to pack for a five-week trek across Europe...

Me? A Blogger? Who Woulda Thunk...

Ok, so it doesn't exactly have the same ring as  "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" but that wouldn't have been accurate at all. Having just graduated college, I am most definitely neither rich (haha! laughable.) nor famous (I think it's fair to say I'm pretty unknown). No, "Recently Graduated and Unemployed" is far better--or at least far more appropriate--a title, I think.

My first blog! My sister Sam merely laughed when I told her I was making a blog. See she knows me, and therefore knows that I'm probably the least tech-savvy person, and the least likely to make a blog out of all the people she knows... which is actually quite a lot of people for a 16-year-old. She's right: up till now I have had nothing to do with technology (other than my trusty Blackerry and the important--aka basic--functions of my MacBook: e-mail, iTunes, Facebook...), and that's been by choice! 

But seeing as how this next chapter of my life will take place all over the globe, and all the people I love and care about will no longer be a text or a 5-minute walk away, I figure it's time to key into the twenty-first century and submit myself to the life of a blogger. According to Mom, "it's the thing these days," and she insists she knows a lot about "these days." Sam and I are less inclined to believe her.

In any case, my brilliant idea to start blogging is officially taking form. With any luck, my blog will be much more clever and funny than I really am in real life, which hopefully will be a pretty good read if you're bored at work, or avoiding your own life and wondering what J$ is up to these days. :)

So, cheers to (hopefully) becoming a little more technologically savvy and joining the rest of the world in the blogging craze! As Kenny Chesney says, it's 5 o' clock somewhere!