Unfortunately, my trip didn’t get off to a very peaceful start.  Because I am a procrastinator, I put off completing some mandatory training for, oh, months.  The day before we were all meant to take off for the Bay, all of my coworkers and I received an email threatening “public humiliation” at our retreat if we did not finish the training by the next day.  Obviously, I was nowhere close to finishing.  Therefore, I ended up spending most of the evening before leaving hunched over my computer scrambling to finish  with technical problems making the task take about four times longer than it should have.  (Avoiding public humiliation is a pretty good incentive.)  While I was able to finish the training, there were two highly negative consequences of my cram session:

1. I went to bed way too late, knowing that I’d only be able to get four hours of sleep that night.

2. I slept through my alarm. (But I got more than four hours of sleep, which is good … sort of.)

I jolted awake the morning of our flight an hour and a half after I’d planned, missing my airport carpool.  I panicked, scrambled around, shoving items in my suitcase, managed to throw on some jeans, and sped to the airport.  I parked … somewhere, found out what airline we were taking at the last possible second (I was so prepared), and made my way to the gate.  Luckily, I made it there with time to spare.  But I had to spend the entire day looking like hell (and had to give a presentation in front of everyone that was videotaped).

Also, finding my car when I returned to LA was sort of an adventure.

Despite the rocky start, the retreat was lovely and I learned a lot.  This weekend, I was happy to spend some time relaxing, and I saw the new Woody Allen flick, Midnight in Paris, which was romantic and lovely and made me want to take off for Paris immediately to wander the streets with Owen Wilson, who was really delightful in this movie.

When I found out that there was a new Sweet Valley book coming out, I ordered it online immediately.  And yes, I devoured it and it made me feel as if I were in 6th grade again.  (I mean, it’s Sweet Valley, it took an hour.)  I loved the Sweet Valley High and Twins books when I was a kid; they are such wish fulfillment for an 11 year old who imagines that high school will be glamorous and exciting with impossibly pretty people and also, in California, where high school kids hang out at the beach (THE BEACH!) and can actually go outside in the winter. (Contrast: my friends and I were really excited in high school when we discovered a rock in the middle of nowhere with Snoopy painted on it.  This was our stimulation.)

Anyway, Sweet Valley Confidential was kind of bad and kind of awesome, which is exactly how it should be.  It won me over with the nostalgia factor, and it made me sad when some characters didn’t turn out as they should have … which I guess is a part of adulthood in general.  You look back and reflect on your image of who you would become and who your friends would become and it never is as you imagined it would be, but always both better and worse.

I am digressing and I know I am making it seem like reading a Sweet Valley book was a profound experience, which it was not, but it did make me think about how all of the characters in the young adult novels we read growing up become a part of us, a part of our growth.  They impact our impressions of the world, our fantasies, and shape who we become.

I think I always felt that hiring a cleaning person was too extravagant, when it was something that I am capable of and really should have enough discipline to do myself, and also, I kind of figured that the cleaning people would make fun of all of my stuff, which made me paranoid.  But, you know, now my apartment is clean, and maybe they made fun of my stuff, but I think I’m okay with that.

I went to the gym tonight to take one of those Body Cardio Pump Works Whatever classes and realized that I had only brought one sneaker.  I was very upset because I actually had the motivation to take the class, so I decided to run across the street to buy some new sneakers since my current ones were kind of falling apart anyway.  (I was constantly in danger of almost falling down cliffs whilst hiking.)  I bought a new pair and now feel like I am walking on air!  When paying, I had one of those moments I have every so often where I think strangers find me really charming and interesting so I started telling the salesgirl about how I was at the gym and only had one sneaker so that’s why I am buying a new pair.  She just blinked and said, “Um. Okay,” and then laughed awkwardly in that way you laugh when you are trying to appease crazy people.

I have never been a religious person at all, but there is something about being able to hike Griffith Park on a clear Sunday with a blue sky and snow-capped mountains in the background that makes me feel really grateful for the world we have and humbled that it all came together to be this awesome. Thanks, nature, you rock.

Anyway, here is the ad.

Because I am the type of person who thinks deeply analyzes the psychology of characters in car advertisements, my thought process upon seeing this ad was, “Wow, that was a pretty bold move of Jennifer French to update her status with ‘Best First Date Ever’ immediately after getting out of the car from the date … isn’t she worried about coming across as too overeager? He’ll think she’s clingy.  I wonder how they know each other if they are already Facebook friends.  Although, on the other hand, maybe it was a good move and neither of them want to play games and they just know it feels right and they’ll end up together. I’m sort of a romantic and I’d like to believe that.  But still, now he totally has all of the power knowing that it was her best first date ever.  And honestly, does she really want to broadcast that to her entire feed?  Like, her coworkers will be asking her about it and what if it doesn’t work out?  That’s so uncomfortable.”

It made me think that I really want to see more of the saga of Jennifer French and her suitor with the Chevy Cruze.  What becomes of them?  Do they go out again?  Is it true love?  Or should she read The Rules?  I picture an entire series of ads where Jennifer French and the (currently nameless) young man (let’s call him Ted Donnelly, I don’t know why) drive around overanalyzing one another’s Facebook updates that they hear in their cars.

Episode 2: Jennifer is driving, listening to her Facebook feed. “Ted Donnelly is at Starbuck’s with Karen McGravy.”  She grows agitated.  Who is this Karen?

Episode 3: Ted leaves another lovely date with Jennifer.  He listens to his Facebook feed. “Jennifer French is now listed as in a relationship with Ted Donnelly.”  His eyes widen in shock.  They only went out twice!  Sure, they slept together that last time, but still!

Episode 4: Jennifer is driving.  “Ted Donnelly is attending Ryan’s Engagement Party  on March 13.”  What the hell, she thinks.  That is this weekend.  He didn’t invite her!  Doesn’t he like her anymore?  Is he taking KAREN?! Doesn’t the fact that she slept with him mean that he should take her to engagement parties?  She is confused.  What kind of girl does he think she is?

I could go on, but I probably should finish my homework and go to bed rather than imagining the relationship progression of people from a commercial.

I really love eating out and sometimes I think that if I had one wish for my life, it would be to have endless funds to eat out whenever I wanted and to never gain any weight from eating rich, restaurant food all the time.  Eating out is one of my favorite parts about travelling. Dining out in foreign cities is always fun and exciting, and for me, having a nice, leisurely dinner at a nice restaurant  in the city I live in makes a typical Friday night seem a bit like a vacation.

Last night I think I attempted to perfect the Porno Pout. This is that mouth half-open sultry look that can typically be seen on Megan Fox in most photos of her.  Observe:

Megan Fox is really pretty, why can’t she smile like a normal person?  Why must she always hang her mouth open?  Do guys see this as a sex invite or something?   I mean, maybe I am sort of a prude in some respects, but I am just not a fan of the “sexy” mouth open/dead-eyed photo look.  It makes women look like blow-up dolls/sex robots.   However, it was amusing to try it.  Here is my take:

Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be making that one my new Linked In or Facebook profile photo.

I lose everything.  I currently cannot find a) my driver’s license, and b) my school ID which allows me to park in the good parking lot.  Yesterday, my friend was making fun of me for losing everything all the time and I proceeded to leave my debit card at the restaurant we went to after the event.  I went back to get it first thing this morning, but who loses three important things in one week?  It’s kind of out of hand.  (I also should point out that I was not drunk; this is just my natural state.  I also fall down a lot.)

I spill everything.  I always want to come across as classy and together, but I literally cannot hold a glass of liquid without getting at least 30% of it on myself.  It’s really embarrassing.

At one point yesterday, I grabbed a corn dog, immediately dropped it on the floor, grabbed another corn dog, and then dropped half of it on the floor.  I am conscious of these things, yet I am still incapable of … not doing them.  The worst part of it is, these are networking events and at events like these, the idea is ostensibly to make people think you are competent so they will end up helping you in your career, and there’s Caroline, splashing wine everywhere and repeatedly dropping corn dogs.  Yup, I’m awesome.

Anyone have any tips on how I can get a handle on these issues?

Today’s flight back to Los Angeles did result in one score:

I did have the pleasure of reading The Hunger Games on the flight, which was awesome.  It’s a trilogy and I’ve only read the first book, but am totally psyched about reading the other installments.  If you haven’t read it, go. Go find it and read it now. It’s about a teenage girl named Katniss (I know, but it gets better) who lives in a post-apocalyptic version of the United States, and is chosen in a lottery to compete in a televised fight to the death with teenagers from each district.   It’s dark and suspenseful and romantic and cool.