blah-goldie-blah

ack!

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 16:00:41 -0700

I hate heavy perfumes or body products. I don't wear perfume much, or scented body products. If I do, I like things like lavendar (my fave!) or low-key earthy scents.

I especially don't like Bath and Body Works. I used to get down with it and I know a lot of people love it, but it's just not my cup of tea.

Well, I shoulda been paying attention to the anti-bacterial on my co-workers desk when I asked her to use some. Cus it is Bath and Body Works and it is heaavvvvvvy! UGH! It's going to the back of my throat and into my nose and I'm already kinda sickly, so it's making it worse! And it won't go away.

Beggers can't be choosers; co-worker was kind enough to share (whereas I don't keep my products on my desk, cus I'm selfish about those things). But still.

I smell like a teenage girl getting ready for a date or something.

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dangit.

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 09:03:05 -0700

I left my iPod at home.

I feel like I left my arm at home or something.

I'm neeeeeverrrrrr without my iPod. :(

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self-portrait 7.3.08

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 07:49:11 -0700

Sleepy.

IMG00581.jpg

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scenes in an elevator at 5:07 pm.

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 18:34:04 -0700

Elevator talk is stupid. You don't know each others' names, you don't know what one another does (except you know they work on, say, the lawyer's floor, or the hospital floor, or the computer people floor, etc.), you don't really even care to talk. You're in an elevator for 37 seconds with folks you see everyday, and while you don't typically talk to, there is an inclination to speak due to the commonality of your office building or because of the silence that some folks find awkward.

Typically, I don't fall into the category of 'we must talk for 37 seconds.' I usually find it grating. I feel there is no obligation owed to any party in the elevator to make generic conversation.

Today, though, has been a weird kind of day. I've been a bit out of sorts. And I am blaming the scenes below on my having been a bit out of sorts.

What had happened wuz: I got in the elevator after work with. The people from the lawyers floor were in there. My guard was up. Cus see, lawyers and insurance agents are typically natural born enemies (well, the lawyers that work with insurance agents are. there are good lawyers out there... don't know if I can necessarily say the same about insurance folks... but you didn't hear that from me). BUT I DIGRESS... My guard was up.

They're in the elevator discussing something and I join for the descent to the first floor to go home. The topic at hand: gaming systems. Something I don't know much about. Yet, for some reason (see: out of sorts) I felt inclined to contribute to the already-flowing conversation. While innocent enough, I felt compelled to correct one of the guys when he said Sony made XBox, cus I don't know a lot about gaming systems, but I do know that Microsoft made XBox.

Now, the situation wasn't as awkward as I so graciously painted below (see the detail of my hair, eye color and cardigan), but I felt it was. Granted, there were a few blank stares after I spoke, and I interpreted those blank stares as "Um. Why are you talking?" but I'm sure my interpretation was scewed cus, well, I don't know. I'm just sure that that's not what they were really thinking. But I kinda think it was.

Anyway, this is what the 37-second exchange felt like:

SOCIAL PARIAH STRIKES AGAIN!

edit: i just realized that 'quick. back away slowly' is oxymoronic, but it was flipping hard making those cartoons and i don't feel like fixing it, so deal (this is namely aimed at my sister, who is a grammar nazi and looms over my blog and points out grammatical and spelling errors like she doesn't have anything better to do. LOOKE, SIS! I SPELING RONG!)

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ew

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 15:25:33 -0700

I just took a swig of my Snapple and I feel like I backwashed into it a bit. I can't get down with backwash. Not Lorelai's. Not my own.

Also, doesn't my garbage bin look super huge and the Snapple bottle super small? Weird.

trash.jpg

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oh.mah.gawwwwd

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 14:33:58 -0700

My sister is such a bitch.

Yeah! I SAID IT!

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lunch with o.

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 13:19:41 -0700

My sis came to my job and took me out to lunch. Holla!

Remember that post I just wrote about the awesome pants I'm wearing? She's wearing the exact same ones. In the picture below, I'm the one on the right (with my favorite ever cardigan on... I wear the hell out of this thing)... the one who looks like her girly bits can't breath. Give us free! (edit: i just looked at this photo after i posted it, and my hand that isn't holding my blackberry looks like it's been mauled off or something and it's cracking me up and grossing me out. doesn't it look hecka weird?!)

same pants (me on right, her on left).jpg

We were gonna grab soup, but it was too beautiful outside to eat hot soup, so we grabbed Mexican instead. This place right across the street has awesome grub. Plus, I stepped outside of my office and heard music and there was a band playing outside as part of Uptown Oakland's Summer Music Series, hosted by an awesome new wine bar called Franklin Wine Bar.

nor cal luv.jpg

the band.jpg

The food, per the usual, was delicious.

yummmm.jpg

sis chowing down.jpg

My sis just got a job near me, which makes me happy (but don't tell her...) cus we can hang! YAY!

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give.us.freeeeee.

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 09:20:39 -0700

I'm wearing an awesome pair of pants. They're from Old Navy (who is totally stepping up their clothing game) and were only $8.00. My sister has the exact same pair. Usually she gives me her clothes cus, surprisingly, I hate shopping and trying stuff of with the fire of ten thousand suns. But I had to snag these pants up cus they're that awesome.

Here they are:

pin stripe-y goodness

The problem? They're tight. This isn't the pants problem... it's mine. I have a bit of the... -ahem- muffin top mayhem going on. Not only that, but my girly bits are screamin "give.us.freeeee!"

I'm shaped kinda funny, in that, I can't go a size up cus they'll just fit all wonky. And I'm totally that person that says, "I'll buy this and fit into it later." Partly cus I don't like to try stuff on, partly cus I don't like the prospect of fitting into certain sizes. Not a healthy way of going aboit it, either way.

The tightness of the pants reminds me of a time in 6th grade. It was sex-ed week. For the most part, we were extremely mature about things, with the exception of a few instances:

The topic of yeast infections came up. Our teacher advised us that one of the ways to get/maintain an infection was by wearing pants that were too tight. After he said that, 99% of the class said, "Marrryyyyy" (cus she wore suuuuuper tight pants). Then one kid said, "Joeeee." Cus Joe wore pants that were too tight too. Funny!
Not related, but we were discussing bewbs, and the teach was like, "Guys... breasts are not toys. You can't play with them and bounce them like basketballs." HAAAAA!

Anyway. Pants too tight. All the baguettes, chips, crisps and other delicious badness in Europe didn't help either. But I'm working on that.

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where mail boxes go to die

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 08:38:23 -0700

Something was almost poetic about this. Its a parking lot for the local post office. The gate surrounding the lot was lined with old, defunct mail boxed and there was buganvilia (I think. If not, does someone know what they are?) draping the fence.

Location: West Grand and Telegraph, Oakland

IMG00520.jpg

IMG00521.jpg

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she gets to pick what she wears most days

nobody@vox.com(goldie) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 08:27:44 -0700

IMG00556.jpg

I should also note that she has a somewhat large strawberry temporary tattoo on the side of her face.

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