Potty Trails

I believe I have finally embedded the route from my cubical to the potties in my little pea brain.

Starting Anew

I arose bright and early on Friday to go back to work. I semi-randomly chose 7am as my wake up time, and 8am as my target time for arrival at the office. Umm...yeah, this is because I had never thought to ask what time I should be there. It suppose it was a minor detail...

The commute will not be too bad in the future. I still have a few alternate route trickery up my sleeve which needs some field testing, but I would have made it there on (assumed) time. Would have? Yes, for the first time ever, I heard the traffic report state that there was a car crash in Cockeysville. The intersection was one I had never heard of...but I was displeased to find it was directly on my route (this would be the part that has no alternatives available). Grr...of all the days! (Oh, perhaps I should mention here that the accident was totally not serious. It looked to me like both cars could have easily resolved their issues elsewhere instead of blocking traffic. Point being that I am not insensitive enough to be angry about being two minutes late while someone has to be pried from a car with the jaws of life or anything. Side note - when I went to Catholic school, we were taught to say a "Hail Mary" when an ambulance passed...and even though I don't believe that mumbo-jumbo anymore, I figure it couldn't hurt...so I still say the prayer. I hope it doesn't count against them now that I am an infidel...)

Me: two minutes late.
Everyone else in my department: 20 minutes late (and yes, 8am was the correct assumed starting time.)

So, my first half hour of my first day was spent waiting. For someone. Anyone. To show me where I sit. (And as it turns out, my name is on my cubical wall...) On the bright side, this was very easy work, and allowed me to scope out the donut situation. I noted at least three people who entered the building with donuts clearly meant for a crowd. Next step - determine names and locations of donut-bearers, and seek out the crullers!

The rest of the day was mostly spent working. How dull. My true orientation, with the signing of the papers and the filling of the forms, is Monday.

On the way out of the parking lot at 5pm, a rainbow was clearly visible. Yeah, yeah, I know I don't believe in mumbo-jumbo...but it was pretty and calming nonetheless.

Day 19 - The Last Day!

Today was shaping up to be a blogless day...until I went to the grocery store. (On a side note: yes, I already went to the store this week, but I forgot to add the ingredients for the hopefully delicious "Vegetable Pie" which I am preparing for dinner, to my list. And to further the side note: I wrote up a new list for the pie, and left it on the table while I traveled to the store. One last side note: I actually managed to remember all the ingredients!)

As I sauntered up to the shopping carts, I noticed a little holder that was added to the left side of each cart. What could this be for? Flowers? I looked questioningly at the lady next to me, but she seemed totally unaware of the change. I decide, like her, to ignore it and go about my business. But, as soon as I entered the store, the question was answered. They have scanners available before you begin shopping! How cool! You simply scan your "Giant" shoppers card, and one of the scanners along the wall lights up. You remove your scanner, and take some shopping bags (or your own re-usable bags) to begin shopping. As you shop, you scan each item, and put it right into your shopping bag. It tells you the price, and the total of your order, which is useful for those on a budget, and allows you to remove the item if you like. It also dings occasionally and tells you about various sales happening all over the store, which is useful to...well, not to me.

When you get to the checkout line, you can do a standard "self-checkout", only all you do is pay. No more scanning required!

One question though - what is to stop you from just putting items in your bag without scanning? I was tempted to try it, for the sake of science, but I chickened out. I would not want to be banned from such a cool shopping experience after day one.

Wii Kooza

One of my super-cool bloggy friends wrote this recent post about how theatrical performances with big budgets sometimes miss the opportunity to inspire imagination in the minds of the audience, simply because they can afford the real thing. For instance, consider mimes (which, despite their bad rap, I actually like, in a creepy sort of way...). The mime has zero props, no set, and a costume that is tied to no reality. Yet, he or she can effectively act out say, the eating of a sandwich in a doctor's office - and subsequently being kicked out of the office - without a single costume change or actual sandwich. A higher budget production might a) buy a sandwich, b) set out a few doctor's office chairs, c) hire extras to play the receptionist and other patients. This effectively removes thought as a requirement from the audience, and probably makes the whole performance a bit boring. As a former set-builder and ensemble member extraordinaire in several (low-budget) high school productions, I found her post inciteful.

Which brings me to the performances I saw this weekend: one, a BIG budget production (at least judging by the ticket price): Kooza by Cirque du Soleil. Two, a small budget production (ticket cost - priceless): my family on the Wii Fit Hula Hoop game after a few cold ones.

We successfully navigated ourselves to the Ravens Stadium O Lot where a large blue and gold tent was erected to house the circus. Kooza begins with a child-like person in a park, trying to fly a kite. There is plenty of wind, but the kite just doesn't fly. Then a man delivers a box to the person in the park, which turns out to be a human jack-in-the-box. The story is a bit fuzzy after that - in fact, if the audience was asked to turn in an essay on the topic as they left the Big Top, there would have been about 50 different stories. The only thing one can say for certain: it is very French. I probably do not need to elaborate for anyone who has seen a French movie like The City of Lost Children. Let's just say it is weird for the sake of weird, and leaves the story (if there is one) up to interpretation. Of course, the set and costumes were elaborate and expensive, but for a show like this - which includes tight ropes, trapeezes, and a large figure-8 shaped spinner with man-sized hamster wheels on each end - the money is in the props. It's a true visual spectacle, with talented performers: jugglers, contortionists, men on stilts, unicyclists, and clowns. Of course, my favorite was the scantily-clad man who built a tower of chairs and then hoisted himself up in ways that defied gravity. High budget, yes; but with creativity to spare.

Afterwards, we managed to get ourselves to the Pub Dog, where delicious beer and pizza was enjoyed by all. We returned home for show number two - Wii. Lots of laughter, some near falls, a definite need for the wrist strap and "clearing the room around you while attempting to bowl", and some Mii eye-brow tweeking ensued. Gravity was most certainly present. Though I think photos are available, I will spare you, Constant Reader. You're welcome.

Day 14 - Emission Testing

Several of my waste products have been scrutinized by "the man". I would love to leave it at that in order to create some mystery:
I imagine a Constant Reader: Woah, what could that mean? I will lose sleep waiting with anticipation for the awesome continuation of this humorous tale.

Unfortunately, the story is not that good.

Waste product number one comes from my tail pipe. A few weeks ago I received the dreaded "VEIP" envelope from the motor vehicle administration. (My most hated of all administrations.) In Maryland, we receive these no more than once every two years, and the registrations are supposedly selected at random. Somehow, I have been "randomly" selected every other March since owning my car. Under the guise of eco-friendliness, the state charges $14 to test vehicle emissions. Being a resident on Planet Earth (at least most of the time), I am a willing participant in environmentally friendly initiatives.
Not to fear, Constant Reader, for this does not stop me from complaining:

One, the program is slightly inconvenient for a lucky schlep like me who owns a new-ish car that starts every day and generally gets me from point A to point B unless I am thwarted by user error or mapquest snafus. The program can be grueling for those who own old junkers (i.e. the working poor). If the car fails the test, the owner must pay for repairs up to $200 before the state will accept that the car is just a pollutant-spewing beast.

Two, we all know the state is only doing this to make money, and they are just tickled to find a worthy cause. Environmental programs that might actually cost money stand on the wayside.

Three, the test (for cars made after 1998) consists of a guy attaching a reader to the computer and...reading it. My mechanic can't do this? I have to drive 40 minutes to the "conveniently located" official VEIP station? Whatever. To be honest, I can't think of a better solution.

Waste product number 2: my pee. I officially accepted the job offer with KCI Technologies on Wednesday! I start April 3, assuming there are no issues with the mandatory drug test.

Oddly, despite being absolutely certain I should pass both of these tests, I was struck with fear. All sorts of things crossed my stupid mind, but I made the prudent decision to do no internet research before going to the designated pee-collector. (We all remember what happened when I researched hemorrhoids...) Thank goodness I learned my lesson. Knowledge would have only increased my paranoia. According to research done today, a whole slew of things can cause false positives for drugs: liver or kidney diseases, any over-the-counter cold medications, certain vitamins, and, of course, poppy seeds. I haven't taken any cold meds (they make me a little loopey - oh, and I don't have a cold.) I don't think I have liver or kidney disease, but I do get a lot of urinary tract infections. Could this be close enough? As for the vitamins, I have been taking them all in excess due to my wacky Caveman Diet. Eeek!
I do take issue with the poppy seeds, though. I have seen scientific evidence presented before my eyes on Mythbusters that the number of poppy seeds required to create a false positive is huge. I would have to be drinking them by the cup full. This being the case, it is probably safe to assume that all these other things are hogwash too. Good logic, eh?
In reality, further internet investigation has shown that false results on drug tests are most often caused by poor laboratory standards. The lab I went to required that I wash my hands before peeing into the cup, not flush the toilet, and that I watch the technician pour my pee into a test tube. I then had to initial the tape on the tube to indicate that I watched this process. Yucky. I am very glad that the profession I have chosen does not require direct interaction with other people's bodily fluids.

Today, I think it is safe to assume that I have passed both tests. The emissions guy gave me a readout from the car's computer and told me I passed. The pee girl hasn't contacted me, but I gotta think no news is good news on that front. So...I think it's safe to say it: I have a job!!

Yay!

Day 12 - Time to Breathe

I had thought that being unemployed would suck, but at the very least, it would allow me a bunch of free time. So far, there could be nothing further from the truth (on the free time part - the rest of it still sucks.) Each day, I have risen from bed in a near panic, thinking of the resumes I need to send, the web page I need to update, the lunches I have scheduled, the interviews I should prepare for, the taxes I should pay, the health care coverage I should look into, the OBama subsidies I might be eligible for, the laundry I should do, the gym classes I should take advantage of while I can, the people I should call, the car that needs washing. Oh yeah, and the trip to Seattle I need to pack for. The past two weeks have been nothing but a frenzy.

Today, I finally had a chance to breathe, so I figure it is as good a time as any to tell y'all about my new diet. This was adopted one week before I was laid off, and though it is called "UltraMetabolism", I am torn on calling it "The Caveman Diet" or "The Hippie Diet". The Caveman Diet seems to fit because I am eating nothing but whole foods - no processed foods like Doritos or Tastykakes allowed. If my ancestor 10000 years ago couldn't eat it, then I shouldn't either. The Hippie Diet also seems to fit because I have to go to a lot of hippie stores like Trader Joes, Whole Foods, and Wegmans to buy this wacko food.

Already, I have made modifications to the plan. My book gives a menu broken down by day which includes different things each day for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and two snacks - all of these are small meals of 300 calories or less and I eat every three hours. Most recipes make 2 to 4 servings, so I have created a similar menu with less variety. Despite this, I found myself purchasing escarole, watercress, mixed greens, AND spinach. (These are all basically just lettuce, but they cost more.) I also had to purchase quinoa, amaranth, and wheat groats. (These are all basically just grains, but they cost more.) In the case of amaranth, they are also extremely difficult to find, even in a hippie store, and I gave up on finding "wheat groats". I was also unable to locate fresh figs, and gave up on dried figs as well. I figure they are close enough to plums, they just cost more.

My grocery bill for week #1 was $130. Week #2 was also $130. But I felt wonderful. I never once had a craving for...anything. I managed to stick to the diet at restaurants, and I remained calorically satisfied without counting calories! Freedom! But, then I went to Seattle. Mostly, I did manage to stick with the diet, but there were some places that had nothing but burgers and fries on the menu. There were also days when I was forced to put getting on a plane on time ahead of my need to eat every three hours.

Today, I begin anew (again). Due to my current situation, I created a budget for the groceries - though I am sure I was getting a variety of nutrients from the many forms of leafy greens, I had to prioritize. And luckily, I still had some quinoa and amaranth left over from previous weeks. Isn't it sad that it costs so much to eat healthy? I noticed that boxes of mac n' cheese sell 3 for a $1. Unfortunately, if it came down to paying the rent or opting for ramen noodles, I'd have to take the noodles.

The Spaghetti Incident

We returned from Seattle last Thursday, slept a few hours, and hit the road again for a trip to Allentown, PA. Adam's friend from high school lives there, and my friend from college was having a baby shower there.

Late at night, I had sufficiently recovered from the mass quantities of delicious homemade food (pierogies!) I had consumed at the shower, and I decided to have a small bowl of spaghetti from the fridge. I have never had food turn on me so fast.

Oh, it began innocently enough. I heated the sauce and pasta in the microwave, and dipped a finger to taste the sauce. As is common with many store bought sauces, it was too sweet. I perused the many hot sauces in the fridge door.

*****

I pause here for a bit of background: I love spicy food. My love affair with Tabasco began as a child, when my Papa encouraged a few drops in my chicken soup. I get quesadillas with extra jalapenos, and I am constantly ensuring Subway employees that yes, I want more hot pepper relish. I nearly always choose a buffalo chicken wrap, or sandwich, or salad. I love hot wings, and they best be hot. However, I have never been a "dare-devil" hot sauce lover. Peppers, when used correctly, bring out the flavors of other spices and enhance your meal. When abused, they just make your meal too unpalatable to eat. Ok, enough background.

*****

So there I was, checking out the hot sauces, trying to find the "Dinosaur" brand suggested by Adam's friend. I found a bottle, but it was unopened, and so I picked up a few others. I didn't find it, so I figured I would just try out the one in my hand, which happened to be called "Dave's Insanity Sauce." Most hot sauces come with an inner lid that forces the stuff to come out in drops at a time. Not so with the insanity sauce. I turned over the bottle, and three to four large globs fell into my spaghetti. Yikes. I got a paper towel, and proceeded to remove much of the sauce. After a few minutes, I was satisfied with the surgery and I mixed the whole conglomeration as I walked to the table. Shovelful of spaghetti #1 - damn, too much sauce. Shovelful #2 - oh God. I need some milk!

In a panic, I rushed to the fridge, finding soy milk and whole milk. Which to choose? Oh! Oh! I haven't got time to decide, my tongue feels like I have just shoved it into the flame of a lit candle, and I think my throat is constricting. I am being advised to get ice cream, but I feel like that will take even longer, since the milk is right there. I opt for the whole milk, and begin to panic more as tears well in my eyes and my face reddens. I can't open the carton! But now the ice cream is in front of me, and I scoop a spoonful to place on my tongue. Three more spoonfuls, and I begin to feel better. I finish with the milk, and pour a glass. I have more ice cream. The pain subsides enough to be tolerable. I look at my bowl of spaghetti with disdain. Why? Why did you turn on me? Of course, it may have been the half gallon of ice cream I ate, but I was no longer hungry.

Meanwhile, Adam and his friend have been unable to resist. They dipped their fingers in to the offending meal, and brought them to their lips. "Wow, that is really hot," they exclaimed as they reached for the ice cream. I told them so.

As the night wore on, I felt the hot in my throat at the base of the neck. Then, I felt it traverse to the sternum , and to the tummy. And as I lay sleeping, the heat remained in the tummy, churning around with the ice cream. I only hope that I ate enough to offset it during the last leg of the journey...