I'm writing this blog entry from the AIRPLANE!
And remember when they used to yell at you for playing your game boy on the plane?? Yeah old, wears too much perfume and bad lipstick color, stewardess, you look like a real big dumdum now don't ya.
So finally after a slight hiccup in my travel plans (I missed my flight because I'm perpetually running about 20min behind and then I hit construction and traffic in St. Louis that made 10miles go from a normal 10min drive to taking OVER FORTY-FIVE MINUTES) I am on my way back home and I am very relieved.
Things I've learned from traveling…ALWAYS give yourself at least 3 hours for travel time. Just do it. It'll save you headaches and lots of money in the end. (there goes my xmas savings…) and do not where a maxi dress through security because TSA will think you're carrying something underneath and then will proceed to take 15 min to try and find a female agent and then take another 10min taking you to the back when I was saying the whole time "Just lift my skirt! I promise I'm not hiding anything!" but as soon as I go to do it and probably risk flashing everyone but I don't care because I just want to get through security, they freak out like I have a …*coughbombcough* strapped to my thigh.
Most ridiculous and awkward travel experience. EVER.
But everything happens for a reason and while I waited for my other flight for 4 hours I got homework for both work and school done. I applied for this business school externship program, I got details worked out for my group project and I slightly glanced at my accounting homework but then I started to feel queazy and stopped. No not because of turbulence, but because it's accounting.
Also, as I was about to board, a man accidentally rolled his luggage over my foot. It didn't hurt at all but he was very embarrassed and apologetic. I board and guess who I'm sitting next to? The same guy who not 5 min ago ran me over. I swear my life is a sitcom.
We laugh at how this should have been apart of one of the recent SNL skits where they had the airport/plane one, and we get to talking some small talk.
He works in LA as an owner of a construction/building consulting company. He's just branched out on his own and his new company is less than 1 month old but he has high hopes and already a fairly large clientele list. Cool. Oh and he got his MBA from USC. Double cool.
So we talk about MBA classes and how most of the time you sit in class going, well ya, this is obvious stuff. But he's telling me about how it's more about the personal connections you make and that your grades will never ever matter. He doesn't mean networking either, he means literal, first name basis, can make un-awkward eye-contact relationships. He talks about how that's how he got the courage to go out on his own because he was doing the same thing for a different company but he was tired of the way they were doing things. So his old school mates rallied behind him, helped with the legal, financial, design, etc. and boom. He has his own start up at the ripe old age of 36 with 2 kids under 3.
Ok. That's pretty freaking awesome.
He asks what I want to do. Haha. Good question, well how about in about 2 years YOU hire me?? I'd be ok with that. He laughed and said well I'm glad you think my work is interesting. That led to more talk of his work and then to LA and how he loves it there and I say I would like to end up there eventually and he says you should, have you been and I go a few times my aunt works at Occidental University and he goes, wait, what? really? They're one of my clients. I just helped them with a music building and I'm going to consult with them on a new library.
SMALL FUQING WORLD
I ask for his card and he writes my name and my aunts on the back of his and pockets it. (hey Cool Aunt, keep an eye out for a Chris who is consulting on your library at Oxy! Put a good word in for me *wink*)
It's like something was telling the world "make Marissa late for her flight" and everything I guess really does happen for a reason.
Alrighty that story aside, let me tell you about last night and how I'm starting to finally love it here in C-dale.
I had class pretty late and a presentation in it none-the-less but a friend who works in the office asked for me to pick her up from the mechanic shop. Her little car is leaking and struggling to the max. Of course, I agree, and we pretty much spend the afternoon together. She is so fun. She's from Chicago, has a deep chicago accent and a do not mess with me look as she's from south side Chi-town and I bet she's seen some things way worse than Kanye and with her whooping 5'2'' stature that stare can take down the strongest/tallest/scariest of dudes. She's been hit by a car and walked away like a champ. No lie, she is one tough chic but she is HILARIOUS. All we do is laugh and laugh and I think I'm going to get a six-pack just from all the laughing I do when I'm around her. She's older and much wiser and often she just looks at me whenever I go on with my silly antics like randomly skipping or dancing like no one is watching or start doing something especially blonde or dumdum and just shakes her head and goes 'this bitch' as if someone else is standing there watching and judging me. She does it so often I'm pretty sure it's my new nick name. (i never claimed normalcy, haters gonna hate)
So we're paling around and then she takes me to class and takes the car to work since hers has a boo-boo.
She picks me up from class and I get a call from my dad.
He's calling because I had previously called him when I was jumping up and down over my excitement of getting asked to work the regional flag football tournament for NIRSA, which I'm pretty stoked about still and I'm so going (going to these tourneys is a good way to meet people in the field of rec at different universities and as I'm new out here I'm pretty jazzed. It was an application process and I didn't think I'd get it because I am new but now I get to go check out Touchdown Jesus and the fighting irish!!) but my mom was confused as to what it was and was wondering why I was going to Notre Dame, when, for how long, and how much, etc. and so he called me to clear some things up and the conversation basically went like this…
"Hey, Shorty, f***, your mother is f***in crazy, she's f***in reading into this way too f***ing much, Like F***, we're f***in proud of you and f*** you should go, don't worry about whatever the f*** it cost, we'll f***in make sure you get there if the f***ing school can't pay for f***ing sh**. Don't worry about it.
And I'm totally used to it, and go thanks dad, I'll call mom and explain it to her later.
Amy the girl in the car who has obviously just heard everything looks at me with big eyes and says
Wow. Was he just really really mad??
No. Not at all. Why? Did he sound mad? No he was just excited.
She turns to me and blankly stares and goes (this is the the 'this bitch' look too)
He just said f***, f***in f*** probably 100 times.
I died.
That's just my dad. I didn't notice. Not even slightly bothered at all, I'm immune to the word. But whenever someone new meets my dad my family gets a kick out their reaction because he's quite the character obvi.
for reference my dad is a blue collar worker and the f-bomb is used by him and his workers daily and they uses it so much that if he didn't use it on the upwards of 100 times a day I'd be worried for his health. And now I have the mouth of a sailor but hey, daddy taught me well.
I will own this one day.
So after laughing about my family dynamics and how she doesn't like it that at 5'8 my family nick name is 'Shorty', we go out to the fields to help her finish up her shift. It was a super fun night as I got to see lacrosse practice and got to play with these really cute puppies that were brought out by their owners who play flag football and then when we were driving the Kubota around in the dark we're just super weird and going off the path and I'm getting a pointless tour of absolutely nothing but we're screaming when driving around corners because we don't want the Yeti or Sasquatch to come out and eat us. There are woods in-between all of the fields we're making the rounds on and at night when you're on that kubota alone it is absolutely terrifying. but when you have someone else, especially if it's a petit school teacher in the making from south side chi-city makes you feel 100000x more safe. and a lot more giggly. makes total sense right? right.
But even though it's hard to explain why we had so much fun or what exactly was so funny about screaming in the dark while riding around on the kubota it just was. And I was a little sad to say bye to her for the weekend even though I'll be back very soon and will want to just go back to my family.
Another part of C-dale I've come to love is the odd little dive bars/eateries that are around. For instance, for one of my group projects we met at the lib and then after some solid (ok not so solid as I'm the dumb blonde of the group but someone has to fill the position and might as well be me) work we went for a round of beers at this mexican restaurant that turns into a bar and then a casino (?) at night. This was a Monday too and instead of being absolutely dead besides me and my group it was actually pretty crowded. whoa. That atmosphere is welcoming but slightly dirty and kinda on the not exactly your finest establishment side as men are chewing and their idea of fine beer is coor's but hey. I loved it. and I like how I'm becoming more accepted within the business side of my life and not just with work people. it was so refreshing to talk about work and they had NO idea who or what I was talking about. so i didn't have to talk about it much. perfect.
and that's that. I'm about to get into LAX now, and officially be back in CALIFORNIA!!!
California…California….Here we come!!!
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