Blonde Moment of the Day

Today in my oh so exciting life I was working at a volunteer center for people who call in to sign up to help patrol beaches and look for signs of the oil spill. Not a lot of people had called in, and when i say not a lot i mean 2 people had called in and i hadn't had to answer either call. So lucky caller number 3 phones in and the phone is in front of me so i figure its my turn to pick up and I'm doing a fairly descent job telling her about ways she could help and when the trainings are taking place. Out of nowhere she asks me the address and i start to panic and i'm frantically looking for the business card that has that info but i can't find it. By that point i had probably said the word umm at least 3o times before someone brought me the card and I'm like "oh the address is P.O. Box 2128........"Awkward silence ensued and the woman on the other end of the phone is asks, "How the hell do you expect me to meet you at a P.O. Box!?"

Boy did i feel dumb.

Waking Up in Biloxi!!!

Well once again the good Lord has blessed me with another month in the South, which means I am just another step closer to meeting Anderson. These days I’m kickin it in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. It’s probably safe to say that none of you have heard of it because it’s a pretty small beach town. Now the reason we’re down here is because instead of moving on to our next project which would have been back in Iowa where we would have been landscaping and tutoring emotionally traumatized children, which could have been scary, we got called to do disaster relief. You know that whole oil spill thing that’s going on in the gulf. Hopefully you’ve heard of it by now. Thank God none of the oil has washed ashore yet, because for one thing it would just suck for the ocean life and the local economy, and most importantly I can still get my tan on at the beach and swim around in the water. Yaaaaaaaah! Although experts are still debating on whether or not it’s a good idea to be in the water but I figure that if it does give me cancer someday down the road I could easily sue BP and become filthy rich. Bwahahaha! Everything is going according to plan…..

The nearest big town to us is Biloxi which is viewed as the Las Vegas of Mississippi. Now I’ve never been to Vegas but I did see The Hangover and this place has nothing on Vegas. However, Biloxi is the birthplace of my favorite soda ever, well besides diet Coke……it’s Barq’s Rootbeer!!! So for that I am eternally grateful. I had never been to a casino before so I was very excited to see what they were like and possibly win a few bucks. So about 7 of us get all dolled up and made our way to the Hard Rock casino cuz we don’t mess around. So of course they ID you before you walk in and they’re checking all my friends and its almost my turn and I have my card ready and I’m about to hand it to the bouncer and he glances at me and just waves me through. Now maybe the man was just tired and didn’t care but I took it has him saying, “Let’s be real. You look ancient. Here’s some fresh tennis balls for the walker your caregiver will be bringing you shortly.” The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that I had recently had a high school girl wrongly guess my age. She was off by ten years. And just to give you a hint, she didn’t think I was 14.

So I had told myself I would only spend 5 bucks but once I got inside the casino I realized I had 8 in my pocket and why not live it up. So I had absolutely NO idea of what to do and how the machines work and even after spending two hours on the nickel slots I’m still fairly confused. Basically I was just pushing buttons to see what could happen. Now although it turned out to be a great night with friends there were several disappointments. Firstly, I was slightly disappointed when I got there and found out that money doesn’t come pouring out of the slots like in the old days. Everything is digital and all your money gets put on a card, which makes a win very anticlimactic. Secondly, contrary to popular belief, lemons do not come flowing out of the slots when you line up all 3 lemons on the machine. I felt so lied to. Thirdly, the Sex and the City 2 slot machines were occupied by two middle aged woman who spent at least the whole time I was there spending away their retirement money trying to match up screen shots of Samantha, Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda. Grrr…should have been me. And lastly I didn’t get a free drink from the cocktail waitress even after following her around, changing seating locations, and waiting at one machine for at least half an hour betting one penny at a time just as a way of stalling and making it look like I was a big spender. I was perturbed.

But I can’t really complain because I did end up winning 11 dollars which sent me in to some loud screaming and jumping up and down fits which in turn caused one of the workers to come over and ask if everything was ok. I then proceeded to cash out and leave. Always leave while you’re ahead.

I'm on the NEWS!

http://greenopolis.com/videos/volunteers-taking-charge-gulf

Here's my 15 minutes of fame...well it's more like 30 seconds and it wasn't exactly Barbara Walters asking the questions... 
but I'll take it.

Another Fake Out By Anderson Cooper

Life these past few days has been a whole lot of crazy. First off, as some of you might know, I went through a phase last summer where I was SLIGHTLY obsessed with Anderson Cooper. I blame it mainly on the fact that I had an internship that left me with nothing better in the afternoons then to spend hours reading basically every CNN.com story ever posted. And my obsession peaked when I got to go to Atlanta where I stayed at a hotel adjacent to the CNN headquarters. My main objective for the whole trip was to somehow meet Anderson but it turns out his office is in New York so all my efforts and wasted time taking the CNN NEWS TOUR were all in vain.

So this past Saturday I’m walking around downtown New Orleans having a little personal time while the rest of my team is working on a community service project. As part of the project they put hair into panty hose, that were primarily donated from a group of Transvestites in San Francisco, with the intention that they would be used to be taken out to sea to soak up oil from this little mishap some of you may have heard about. Anyways I had just bought some real hot boating shoes when my teammate Maddie calls and is like “Rob, the press is eating this up, we were just filmed making these hair booms and they want to take us all down to a marina where the oil is to have us put them in the water…….AND ANDERSON COOPER IS THERE!” Needless to say I took off running to the Ritz Carlton Hotel, which is where this whole thing was taking place, because there was no way that my team was meeting Anderson without me…even if I was wearing glasses, a tank top, and cut off jeans. Long story short, a news team from Los Angeles drove us down to the marina, which was 1.5 hours away. I felt so VIP. We got out and the journalist was like “ok , there’s lots of reporters here looking for a story so as long as you don’t say a word to anybody we’ll buy you dinner." So who got a free shrimp dinner for keeping his big mouth shut? This guy. But the sad thing was that by the time we got there Anderson was long gone and was probably back in New York tossing back gin and tonics with Kathy Griffin. So jealous. Mark my words Anderson we will meet someday and become besties whether you like it or not. But it was still pretty sweet to get interviewed by the news team. Plus our chauffer, who’s name was George and supposedly was going to be drafted into the NFL before he blew out his knee, bought me a ruby red grapefruit drink for the ride back. It was loverly.

In other more disturbing news, last Friday I woke up with a layer of skin missing from underneath my nose and it kind of had me concerned because I figured that either I had been bitten by a cockroach, a mouse had used my nose as a punching bag, or I had slept walked into a boiling pot of tea. Needless to say it hurt like hell and had puss coming out like there was no tomorrow. So today I go into the walk in clinic because I have a slight chest cold and I’m chatting it up with the doctor and I’m like, "oh yeah in case you hadn’t noticed the ginormous crusty mess on my face I think I burned myself in my sleep." To which he replied, "how would you have burned yourself in your sleep? That is clearly bacteria growing on your face." Yep. Bacteria. Chilling under my nose because apparently sometimes bacteria can grow under the hair follicles in a beard and the area beneath the nostril provides a cool, wet, and dark environment for it to grow and flourish. WHO KNEW!!!!!!? I guess thinking back on it it’s a good thing I didn’t meet Anderson this weekend because he might have been slightly alarmed by the sight of the bacteria; which I will soon be applying vigorously the cream the doctor prescribed. That is once the Wal-Mart Pharmacy gets their ish together and orders the cream that go figure they were out of. I mean seriously Wal-Mart, with all the money I’ve spent in your store you could’ve had the courtesy to have my Bactrum cream waiting for me in my lowest hour of need.

Rob the Firefighter

Well the impossible has happened. Little Robbie James is officially a trained Wildland Firefighter. I know I know, pretty hard to believe and if someone had told me this would happen a year ago I wouldn’t have believed it. But after a week of really boring classes where I sat and watched videos depicting every worse possible situation of a fire and after passing the pack test where you have to walk 3 miles in under 45 minutes while carrying a forty pound pack. Not to brag but I did it in 43 minutes (please save your applause for later). It been pretty awesome and I could totally dig having a job where all I do is walk around with a drip torch lighting things on fire all day. My inner pyro has definitely been unleashed. Oh and by the way, my team is already talking about releasing a calendar because isn’t that what all the real firefighters do? I’m already claiming November and I’m envisioning lots of flames, sweat, mesh tank top, and Dalmatian puppies all over me. Its gonna real classy.

The other day we were doing a prescribed burn on about 100 acres of prairie and my teammate Stephon and I got quite the rush of adrenaline from this whole fire thing. We had just lit a huge fire line across a field when our crew boss drove up and was signaling at us to get in the ranger to move farther down the line. I of course being the sensible of the two told Stephon that we should walk down further where the fire hadn’t touched in order to get to the ranger. He of course was like well let’s just jump over it. Seeing as my nickname on the team has become old man Sesser I wasn’t about to let this young whipper snapper show me up so we both started running towards the fire line and once our feet left the ground to jump over it I swear the flames grew twice in size which pushed a rush of adrenaline through my body like I’ve never experienced. Within seconds my body was drenched in sweat from the heat. In the moment I seriously felt like I was in the Gladiator movie when Russell Crowe is fighting in the battle and he yells “UNLEASH HELL!” Then out the dark smoke and flames you see this huge wolf fly out of it and attack. Basically that’s how it probably would have looked if you had been standing there…minus the wolf…and insert me and Stephon with a touch of slow motion for dramatic effect. All I’m sayin is that it was pretty “bad a”. And my asthma didn’t flare up due to all the smoke inhalation, which was also a big plus.

Now speaking of me, Stephon, wild dogs, adrenaline rush, feeling like your life is a movie, etc….Last weekend we thought it would be a great thing to go spend some time volunteering at the local Humane Society and it was all going just peachy until Stephon decided two put the 3 yr. old St. Bernard in the play area. I don’t really know how but Stephon was playing with the dog in the pen but “Jesse” was apparently feeling a little claustrophobic. So out of nowhere the dog bolts for the gate where he jumps up and body slams it thus opening the gate. Everything after that seriously could have been the new script for the seventh sequel to Beethoven. So the dog just takes off and I was standing close by with my dog who was some sort of large terrier who coincidentally has a knack for squeezing it head out of a collar and running after large St. Bernards. So then we had two dogs on the loose and I’m running like crazy seeing as we’re right next to a busy road and I’m screaming “JESSE! JESSE! STOP! BAD DOG! BAD DOG!” I was so flustered I couldn’t even remember the other dogs name so I had to refer to him as HEY YOU! STOP! Those dogs really could have cared less as Stephon and I chased them for probably a good quarter mile before they finally stopped. And seeing as I probably ran the fastest quarter mile of my life while wearing a parka I was about two steps away from a collapsed lung. So I go up to Jesse and grab him by the collar and surprisingly he’s really happy to see me and figures I would love a good lick. So he gives me those innocent puppy dog eyes and proceeds to lick the entire length of my arm and covers it all in nasty white foamy drool that had all been built up from the run. And go figure my parka was dry clean only. And you have no idea how hard it is to find a good dry clean in rural Iowa.

Double Tall White Mocha?

Today I had a major reality check by one of the bazillion differences between Seattle and Iowa. I was craving some Starbucks and the only option within a hundred miles was the one located inside the entrance of a Target. I know. Tragic. So going into it I should have known there would be lingo lost in translation. I mean its not like I’m a total high-maintenance customer that’s asking for a Venti, 3 pump, non fat, vanilla latte with 3 Splenda, stirred, at 180 degrees with light whip but I do have my whole drink shpeel memorized and I can say it pretty darn fast on a good day. Usually it’s a little more complicated but I decided to leave out the 2 pump, non fat, extra hot part because I’ve learned that once you leave Seattle you have to repeat orders like these four or five times before they have it all written down on the cup. So all I asked for was double tall white mocha and he looked at me like I was speakin Mandarin. So after 4 seconds of extremely awkward and confused eye contact, the barista dude looks at his manager who can tell he has no idea what I’m talking about and slowly tells him “well you press the button that says white mocha and then press the add a shot button”. During all this I’m holding back the urge to grab him buy his collared black poplin shirt and scream “Who the hell do you think you are calling yourself a Starbucks Barista! Take off that green apron you imposter and get a job at McCafe!!”
But I regained my composer and realized we’ve all been there. I too was nothing but a newbie barista at Starbucks which I secretly love to tell other Sbucks baristas because once you tell them you worked at the mother-ship that is Seattle they instantly have a much higher respect for you which I won’t lie I totally eat up. Unfortunately i'm pretty sure the barista wasn't new and that he had in fact been working there a while. If Howard Schultz were dead he would have rolled over in his grave.

Mardi Gras

Well my time in the South has ended and I’ve found myself back in rural Iowa in a place called Wapello. Its pretty tiny. As in 2000 people live here and none of my friends from Iowa have even heard of it and its not exactly a diamond in the rough but its kinda nice to be back to a slow pace of life after spending six weeks in the south during Mardi Gras. Now don’t get me wrong, it was great being down there for all the hubbub, excitement, parades, unending king cakes, and just getting to experience for myself what a huge part of the culture it is down there.

One of the last weekends in Alabama a group of 12 of us did a 24 hour trip to New Orleans for the big Mardi Gras weekend which at the time seemed like a great idea but I would never do it again. My only responsibility for the trip was to rent two mini vans for our group which I thought wouldn’t be a big deal except the day that we were supposed to leave none of the mini vans were returned by their drivers so they had to give us three SUV’s which cost a little more but I’m not gonna lie was kinda sweet because I felt like Obama driving with his entourage. We left right after work and drove the two hours to New Orleans and first stopped at our sweet apartment room we rented where we slept three to a bed and everyone else got the floor. I was lucky enough to grab a middle spot on the bed and I don’t know how I slept that night because half of my lower body was hanging over the bed. Eventually in the middle of the night I got up and grabbed a chair for my feet to rest on which was a big help. Within minutes of us getting to the apartment the guy who was renting the other room in the apartment who had obviously been smoking pot all day came over and was super friendly and wanted to hang out with us and then invited himself to come down to Bourbon St with us which we ultimately didn’t mind because he paid for all of our trolley tickets. Again, probably because he was high but hey I’m not picky. Unfortunately the trolley we were taking dropped us off like two miles away from Bourbon so after a long walk and a bathroom break in a random hotel lobby, whose toilet hadn’t been flushed during the past 20 uses, we finally made it to Bourbon and it was a whole lot of crazy like I’ve never seen before. It was literally a half-mile street with wall to wall people. Within seconds of going into the crowd we all got separated and then of course all of the cell services were crashing because of all the users which was super inconvenient/thrilling/terrifying because I was trying find my friend Adam who was only two blocks away. And normally one wouldn’t think two blocks to be a great distance but it literally took us an hour to find each other and of course by that time we both had to pee and I hardly had any voice left after spending an hour shouting into the phone to tell him which street corner I was on or what the florescent sign I was standing under.

The next morning my one and only goal was to go to the French quarter and grab and beignet at Café du Monde’s but after driving around for an hour looking for a parking spot I gave up because we had to return the cars before we got charged an extra days fee but this just gives me a reason to return someday.

On Fat Tuesday a bunch of us went to the last Mardi Gras parade in downtown Mobile even though I was less than enthusiastic about going considering I’d already gone to several and in my opinion you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. I mean it was pretty fun the first time grabbing as many beads as you could and I even caught a teddy bear that had kisses all over it which I loved at first until I found out a majority of the stuffed animals came from Goodwill so I became a little concerned about where that thing had been. But anyways the parades are pretty dangerous so even if you don’t want to catch anything you still have to hold your hands up to shield your face in case you get beamed by a stray handful of beads. Another thing they love to throw is moon pies which is a nasty desert that’s basically 300 calories that I’d rather consume elsewhere. Anyways they’ll usually just throw one or two at a time from the float but every once in a while you’ll get some fat lazy guy on top of the float who doesn’t have the decency to open the box to throw one so he’ll chuck the whole box of moon pies from the top of a possibly 200 ft float. You wouldn’t believe the momentum those things can gain and they can do a lot of damage. I feel sorry for the innocent bystanders who had to hear me shriek like a 12 year old girl and cover my eyes the first time I saw one of those boxes coming my way.

Another alarming thing is that Mardi Gras tends to draw out a lot of gang activity which I learned because as some of my teammates were waiting for the final parade to pass by and end the Mardi Gras celebration someone was shot in a McDonalds right by where my group was watching the parade!!! Thank my lucky stars I decided to leave early otherwise I’m sure I would have been in line during the attack patiently waiting to pick up my small fry with a hot fudge sundae which I’ve recently become OBSESSED with as I’m slowly working away at using up my 50 dollars worth of gift cards from mama.

Long story short. I’m loving me Iowa these days because my life no longer feels threatened. Of course that’s only temporary as well because I would not want to be here during hunting season with a bunch of Dick Cheney’s running around if you know what I mean…

P.S. Dear Jess Miller. Thanks for showing me how to attach a picture in my post. You inspire me.