UFC - Ultimate Front for Consumerism

I know it's been awhile since my last blog. I finally landed a part-time gig and so I've been a bit more busy as of late. Since I'm working now, this blog's title should really be something like Blog de Semi-Employment, but I don't want to change the URL and confuse all my readers, so the Blog de Unemployment it shall remain. In case you're wondering, I won't be blogging about my new job (good or bad) because I don't want the thought of them reading this to influence what I write and it's not that exciting anyway. On to more exciting things...

So the other weekend I had the pleasure of attending a UFC viewing party and seeing this "bloodsport" for the first time. I must admit I was a bit disappointed and even dismayed at how this once-illegal sport has become the hip new way to plug one's business and/or product. There were logos everywhere, even on the fighter's shorts. The next time I want to order condoms online, I know exactly where I'm going because this company's brand is indelibly etched in my mind after seeing it on every other fighter's ass: CondomDepot.com. One winning fighter even used his victory speech to proposition Donald Trump, who was sitting in the audience, to sponsor him because there was "plenty of room" left on his shorts. If he really wanted to make some dough, I thought, there was also a lot of virgin skin on which to put a nice, big Donald Trump tattoo.

I thought I was going to see a bloody, no-holds-barred battle to the (almost) death. Instead it seems that this sport has tamed its early "no rules" stance with a million and one rules (weight classes, timed rounds, etc.) that make the events more palatable (and profitable) for sponsors and pay-per-view stations. Surely this has made the sport safer and increasingly popular, but I would say also all the more bland and corporate. I was hoping for blood, guts and excitement and instead I came away with an unconscious yearning to drink Bud Light and buy a Harley-Davidson.

Smells like senior spirit

Why are old people so cute? On Wednesdays there's a "Senior Fitness" class at my gym. Rain or shine, these same seniors are there and they always arrive promptly half-an-hour to 45 minutes early for the class. I was in the aerobics room today where the class is held and had the pleasure to observe a few of these venerable citizens.

Apparently it was one gentleman's 94th birthday and several of the ladies brought brownies and balloons in celebration. Wearing grey trousers with a semi-transparent button-up shirt (he was kind enough to pair it with an undershirt), he shuffled across the room carrying a Zach Morris-style cordless phone (does it work? I wondered) and a fuzzy blue cardigan sweater that I at first mistook for a blanket. As increasingly more ladies entered the room bearing with them goodies and gifts he exclaimed, "Happy Birthday to me!" Later I peeked into their class and watched him do toe pointing exercises to rag-time music with the other seniors and I couldn't help but think how adorable he was.

Of course, many people might say that calling old people "cute" and "adorable" is demeaning and somewhat ageist. However, would it be ageist if I were to say that children are cute and/or adorable (even though I would have to disagree)? Just wondering.

Also, I did a quick Google search for "old people are cute" and I found out I'm not the only one who thinks this way...

Old People Can Be So Super Cute (an anecdote about some older people and "the Internets")

Cute Old People (another old person anecdote about an elderly couple and their car alarm)

Cute Old People Dancing in Barcelona (A YouTube video of some senior citizens dancing to a Spanish Frank Sinatra sound-alike - I love the gentleman in the suit jacket dancing by himself!)

Bring it on

At my volleyball class the other night my soon-to-be-coach was lamenting how little six-year-old gymnastic stars can do double back handsprings and we adults could barely summon the energy to look athletic in our volleyball approach. True dat, I thought. It's so easy to get lazy and settle for mediocrity, especially when you have the skills to back up your less than vigorous jump/approach to the ball.

Anyway, I thought of this again today when I came across this YouTube video of little Japanese girls (ages 9? 10? I'm not sure) doing a dance routine (the title of the video is "CHEERLEADING From Japan Best Ever special Stunt!!" which of course made me want to watch it). There are no "special stunts" that I can see (then again, I know nothing about cheer or dance), however these kids' synchronization and flexibility is amazing.



When I watch something like this it gives me chills and motivates me to improve my game. If these springy little kids can perform like that, perhaps this old girl can get up the gumption at 27-years-old to play a better game of volleyball too.

Hot town, summer in the city

I am so happy that the weather has cooled down. It changes my whole outlook on life. We don't have airconditioning, so whenever it gets above 85 degrees our house becomes an oven. A very uncomfortable, stifling and disgusting oven. I'm a homebody, so a perfect and restful day for me would be to wake up, eat breakfast and leisurely decide what I want to do. I'd be perfectly happy reading a book for a few hours, or watching a movie on the couch. But when it's hot, I'm forced to leave my home for somewhere cooler and I don't like the weather dictating how my day will go.

I've always been a very "warm" person, so the heat affects me more than most. That's why this whole global warming thing freaks me out so much. Not because the ice caps are going to melt and there will be famine and global unrest, but because I fear being uncomfortable all the time. One of the reasons we moved to San Diego was for the weather, but the past few summers have had some nearly unbearable and humid (yucky!) days.

Anyway, I'm just so happy the weather has cooled down. Now I can get to that huge mountain of clean laundry that needs folding. Yipee.

Into the essence

Last night I watched the film Into the Wild directed by Sean Penn. Having read the book by Jon Krakauer, I thought it was a great adaptation of the book. Both the book and the film tell the true story of an unconventional young man named Chris McCandless.

I was going to try and write a plot summary for you, but decided that the summary from IMDB had already hit the nail on the head, so to speak: "After graduating from Emory University, top student and athlete Christopher McCandless abandons his possessions, gives his entire $24,000 savings account to charity and hitchhikes to Alaska to live in the wilderness. Along the way, Christopher encounters a series of characters that shape his life."

Anyway, the film (like the book) got me thinking about how we are all completely tied down by our careers and our homes and our things and the people around us. That sounds very pessimistic, but that was the very thing that Chris was trying to shake off. By living an aesthetic life on the road he was attempting to escape all these societal conventions that hold the rest of us down and prevent us from living life to the fullest.

For example, when I first moved away from home, all of my possessions fit into a suitcase. At the end of my freshman year, they fit in the back of an Explorer (with my bike hooked to the back). Each year since then I've progressively accumulated more things until the last time Gene and I moved it took a 17' van plus our cars to move it all. You don't realize how much these 'things' tie you down until you think about life without them.

Of course, I have an amazing husband and wonderful pets (my furry children) that I wouldn't leave for anything. But for just a moment I like to imagine the freedom it would bring to be footloose and carefree (and to simultaneously have the ability not to worry about money, where I was going to sleep next, etc.). This film (doesn't film sound so much more sophisticated than 'movie'?) also made me think that there is nothing more melancholy in this world than an old man's eyes brimming with tears (83-year-old Hal Holbrook gave an Oscar-nominated performance).

Anyway, just some food for thought. And if you have Netflix or whatever, I definitely recommend you take a look at this film.

Acronyms

So I recently came across this acronym: SAHM (Stay at Home Mom). Why do people need to have a special acronym to describe their home/life activities? Anyway, I've decided the acronym for my life right now is SAHL (Stay at Home Loser).

Yesterday, while feeling bummed out about the whole job thing, I went downstairs to make dinner. First of all, I've never been good at cooking (nor do I even like cooking), but as a SAHL I feel it's the least I can do to contribute. We decided on stir fry for dinner - easy enough. But when I went to pour some rice into our automatic rice cooker - it looked a little strange to me. However, I thought, 'I'm just feeling funky and there's nothing wrong with it' and so I continued to pour the water in.

A few seconds later after the water came oozing out the bottom through all the electrical circuits, I realized what I'd done. Sitting over on the dish rack was the insert that goes inside the rice cooker to cook the rice and prevent such a catastrophe. Arghhhh! Thinking I could fix it, I tried to get all the rice and water out and go through with using the cooker (my husband Gene was upstairs and I figured if I could get it all out he would never know what a stupid thing I did).

After much shaking, I felt I'd gotten most of the rice out. I also opened up the bottom and dried out the electrical items as much as I could. Then I started it cooking. Even with my efforts, with the amount of rice I'd poured into the machine (two cups), it was inevitable that there was still some rice inside So, as the cooker heated up, the hot plates, etc. began cooking the rice from the inside out, causing a steady stream of smoke to pour out of the top.

I turned on the stove fan and the kitchen fan and opened all the windows hoping, at this point, to at least salvage dinner out of the disaster. While fanning the smoke, I watched and waited for the rice to finish cooking and for the switch to flip up from "Cook Rice" to "Keep Warm," but it never did. Finally, I realized there was a tiny piece of rice stuck in the flipper mechanism preventing it from popping up. Meanwhile, the rice had continued to cook past well-done, creating even more smoke.

In the end I was able to salvage a small amount of rice for our dinner. Clearing out the smoke from the kitchen as best I could, I called Gene down to eat. The first thing he did when he entered the room was squint his eyes, cough and look over at my stir fry veggies (which were also a bit overcooked by this point).

"Well, I f*&$-ed up," I said.

He continued to stare at my brownish vegetables. "I messed up the rice," I said.

"What'd you do, pour it straight into the machine?"

"Yeah - how'd you know?"

"You did? I was kidding! That's about the only way I could think of to screw up cooking rice with a rice cooker..."

Luckily he was very nice about the whole thing and only beat me once. j/k Anyway, just had to throw that bit of idiocy out there and see if anyone wanted a bite of it to help take away the sting (and have a little laugh at my silly SAHL self).

Did I mention I also broke the Crock Pot awhile back?

Bueller? Bueller?

OK so I am becoming so incredibly bored with job searching. Will someone just hire me already? I feel as if it's harder to find a non-professional part-time job than it is to find a career job. OK, so I do have standards. I won't do telemarketing or sales and I won't go below $11 an hour, but come on, with five years marketing and public relations experience isn't there anyone that wants to hire me to do something, anything, for them? With every resume I put out there I feel like I'm shouting into the wind, "HEY, DOES ANYONE HAVE A PART-TIME GIG FOR A COMPUTER LITERATE PROFESSIONAL?"

I didn't think that my self-worth was tied up in working, but I think it might be. For awhile I satisfied myself with thinking that my job was to save money on our food bills, keep the house clean, cook and work out for volleyball. However, I've been sick the last few days and unable to do those tasks very well and suddenly I'm feeling quite chaffy. Desperately bored (and secretly hoping I'd win the prize) I went online and filled out a survey for Walmart that came on my receipt. When it asked what my employment status was, I was too embarrassed to click "unemployed".

Oh brother.

How the bunritos were won

Since leaving my job I've taken over the meal planning, shopping and cooking for our house. We used to share this duty, but since I've got time I'm taking care of it now. In addition, since we're without my income (we're gone from DINKs to SINKs) and with gas prices rising to ever more ridiculous levels, I've made it my personal crusade to save as much money on food shopping as possible.

So far I've managed to keep us fed for an average of $45 a week (we used to spend about $150 every two weeks before food/gas prices started rising). To do this I've been clipping coupons, comparing prices and going to an average of four stores per shopping trip to find the best deals (they're all in a row on Clairemont Mesa Blvd., so I'm not using too much extra gas).

My new favorite stores are the 99 Cent Only Store and the bakery outlet. Believe it or not, they have awesome produce at the 99 Cent Only Store! I've gotten heads of Cauliflower and Broccoliflower, three cucumbers, a package of green onions, five tomatoes and even a pound of ginger at the 99 Cent Only store all for only a buck each. The Orowheat-Entenmann's Bakery Outlet on Clairemont Mesa Blvd. by the 163 freeway is also amazing. For a little over $6 I took home three loaves of good bread and a package of dinner rolls (the rolls were free for spending $6+ dollars). Later when I was at the grocery store (Food 4 Less) I saw the same loaves of bread selling for $4 a piece (which is f-ing crazy by the way)! Of course, you have to freeze some of the bread for later, but no worries, it defrosts just fine.

Anyway, most people I know won't care too much about this. Why? Well, because they're working and have money, but not a lot of time, so they don't mind spending a little extra for the convenience of getting their shopping done ASAP. Also, most young professionals don't have mortgages for homes bought when the market had peaked, so 70% of their income isn't tied up in a house that's steadily decreasing in value, so they aren't feeling the pinch as much as we. OK, that's enough of my pity party. I'm just hoping that through a little frugality here and there we can still have a decent lifestyle and save enough to make it through until after the volleyball season when I'll have (cross my fingers) a well-paying, full-time job. Thanks for reading!

PS The word "bunritos" in the title isn't a typo. When I took over the shopping/meal planning my husband already had some meals written on our fridge wipe-off board, including what appeared to be bun-ritos...he he.

The stinky sock

I went to the gym the other day. I always had excuses not to go before, but now I have ZERO excuses not to go. Plus I want to get in shape to play volleyball for San Diego City College this fall (yes, at 27 I'm going to play sports for a community college), but that's a whole other story/blog.

Anyway, I was surprised to find some interesting contrasts at the 24 Hour Fitness on Balboa Avenue. They have a new fingerprint identification system so you don't have to bring your card (I guess this is something 24 Hour Fitness is trying in San Diego). Cool, I thought, this place is high-tech! With such a neat-o ID system, I expected everything in the gym to be new and slick. Oh yeah, and this is a 24 Hour Fitness Sport, so I expected it to be cavernous, light-filled and in a word, nice (I base this on the experience that every other 24 Hour Fitness Sport I've been to has been top notch).

However, once inside, this gym reminded me of this tiny rinky-dink gym I went to in college that was out in an industrial park. The gym was the cheapest around because it was small and in some places, even claustrophobic. The 24 Hour Fitness on Balboa Avenue reminds me of that gym. The cardio area was dark, had low ceilings and was a touch too small for the number of machines/sweaty people they had in there. The was a light odor of stale sweat that made me think the foam floor was at maximum capacity for sweat absorbency.

After using the stationary bike I went to use a pad for sit-ups. This pad was old and made of a kind of foam that allowed all the dirt and grime to get stuck in the crevices - yuck! While doing my sit-ups I looked up at the ceiling to see water marks.

In 2005 the 24 Hour Fitness company had an annual revenue of $1.1 billion per year and 300 million (!) members. Jesus. With all that dough coming in, you'd think they'd have some cash left over for repairs/upgrades to their gyms. On the 24 Hour Fitness website they have a photo gallery where you can "see inside the clubs". The photos for the sport-style club show you what I was expecting to see, however they cover their ass by saying "Actual club appearance may vary." It's a nice way of saying, here are some photos our flagship clubs and the rest of them may, or may not be, well, crappy.

Anyway, I just wanted to rant about that. My new name for that gym is The Stinky Sock, so when I say, "Well, I went to the Stinky Sock today..." you'll know what I mean.

Actually, I think Stinky Sock is a good name for a laundromat. Anyone want to put up some investment capital to open a Stinky Sock with me? I'll offer you 50% of all the revenue for the first five years and all the dirty, smelly, abandoned socks you could ever want.

Oh the horror...

When I was working, I had nightmares about work all the time. I often dreamt that I didn't make it to an important meeting or television segment on time or that I forgot to do something of paramount importance and ruined an entire event. I thought that these so-called "stress dreams" would stop when I stopped working, but they haven't.

I've had three nightmares in a little more than a week. In these dreams I'm back at work even though I've quit and they usually involve my boss ridiculing me in front of others. In one dream I got chewed out for not being on top of something that had to do with a Rod Luck television segment. In the dream Rod ended up having his face burned by some wayward fireworks...oops. Poor Rod - though I'm sure he'd take an at-work accident over the legal issues he's dealing with right now.

So how long will it take for my work nightmares to stop? People with PTSD have recurring nightmares all the time, but I doubt that my work environment was stressful enough to rank me among the Iraq soldiers who've returned home with PTSD and dream about IEDs all the time. In fact, I'll take a mutilated-Rod-Luck-face-dream any day over anything those poor soldiers have to dream about. Sweet dreams.

How I got here

So, a few months ago I decided it was time to move on from my job. After nearly five years I needed something different. I gave two months notice – what I thought would be plenty of time to find a new job.

My husband knew how much I needed to get away from my work environment and told me we’d be OK for “awhile” if I didn’t find a new job right away. Since he’s more financially savvy than me, I’ve let him take care of our finances for the last few years. So in truth I was ignorant to how long “awhile” might be (and maybe I just didn’t want to know).

As time wore on during the last weeks at my job, cover letter writing and searching Craigslist and Monster for that perfect new position seemed less and less important. I knew if I found something they’d probably want me to start right away and I was looking forward to leaving business casual and deadlines behind, even if only for a few weeks. I imagined sleeping in, lunching with friends and being one of those people I saw shopping unhurriedly while I ran my errands in lightspeed on my half-hour lunch breaks.

At a party a few weeks ago I told a friend my plans to take some time away from working and she said, “Well that’s good, so long as you can enjoy it and not get stressed out.” Not enjoy it - was she crazy? And how could I be stressed when I was ditching my biggest source of stress and angst? How could I be tense when I would be beholden to no one – imagine a weekday at home where I didn’t have to call in sick or take a vacation day? It was almost unfathomable.

And so here I am in my first week of unemployment. It’s 11:45 a.m. on a Thursday and my cat is sitting on my lap as I type this in my “home office” (my kitchen table + laptop + cell phone). In my first week “off” I’ve been hiking and to the beach on a Monday afternoon and thrift shopping on a Wednesday. Being at these places at these times is almost like traveling to a foreign country - things are generally the same, but somehow everything seems just a little bit different on weekday time. And now I’m off to be one of those leisurely shoppers I used to envy. I’m going to compare prices, read labels and take my time...