Burt

An old friend has returned to my life. His name is Burt. For those of you who don't know, Burt is my Rav4 who after spending the past year being neglected and living under an old pine tree, is finally insured! Thanks Geico. Now that i have a job and recently turned 25, I figured I could probably afford the monthly rate which has gone down by 20 bucks since a year ago. Sometimes growing older and not being incarcerated within the past 5 years can really pay off!

I'm actually really excited to be able to drive Burt again because even though he is getting on in years (he's a '97), has butt dents on his roof (my friends and i used to sit on him while watching summer lightening storms), has touchy dashboard lights that only come on when I pound the dash with my fist, and takes roughly 2 minutes to go from 0-60 (this has caused some tense situations on major highways), he's been my most faithful companion through the past decade. It took quite a few years for me to actually come up with a name for Burt. I think it was actually my old roommate Sam who named him as we were listening to the song "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" on our way back to Walla Walla from Seattle during a break from school. I think the artists name was Burt and the name seemed to fit. Strangely most of my close friends now know him by name and often ask me how he's doing. During recent visits to Seattle several friends would ask where Burt was or complain that it just wasn't the same not having him along for the ride. Even more strange is that in recent years when alone in the car I found myself having one sided conversations with Burt about my day or how I'm feeling. And this is why I should really look into getting a dog...beta fish...antfarm...therapist.

The picture shown above is of Burt and I back in 2001, right after we first found each other. Back when I had a size 26 pant waist, had a whole lot more hair, and was about to celebrate my sweet 16. And yes, this picture was taken with a Poloraoid Camera because we were and still are the original hipsters. Deal with it. Me and the parents were about to leave for Portland to go car shopping when Mama Sesser spotted him driving through the Safeway parking lot with a for sale sign. Destiny. We bought him that day and I was beyond ecstatic because like every other 40 year old soccer mom, I had always dreamed of owning a Rav4. You think I'm joking. I begged my parents to let me sleep in the back seat the first night that we brought him home but they told me that was weird and that I'd catch pneumonia. They were probably right, I did suffer from a very weak immune system at the time.

I've had many wonderful memories with Burt such as a road trip to Disneyland, several first dates, the drive through window at Wendy's, high school dances, driving down the highway singing Kelly Clarkson's "A Moment Like This" as we spontaneously spun a 360 off of the highway into a snowbank while narrowly escaping death by an oncoming semi truck......... Burt has also gone through some rough times. We almost lost him during the winter of '09. I was at a funeral in California when a tree fell right on top of the poor lil guy. For some reason my roommates at the time, who shall remain nameless, (their names rhyme with Dusty and Austin and if you have any knowledge as to their whereabouts....) didn't feel the need to tell me this small detail. Even after parking the car AND watching the tree fall. I found out the old fashioned way. A friend wrote on my Facebook wall and said they'd seen Burt on the morning news and hoped he was ok. Good ol Burt, we are so much alike. We'd do anything to get on the local news. And I mean AN.Y.THING.

So today, after hanging up with Geico I waded my way through snow drifts to the back of the house where Burt has been living and of course all the doors were frozen shut except the back one. After maneuvering over the seats in my snow boots and parka and pulling several muscle groups along the way, I put the key in the ignition only to find out the battery was dead. Luckily Papa Sesser was home on his lunch break and offered to tow Burt to the driveway. Once there I poured copious amounts of boiling hot water onto the hood of the car thus allowing me the ability to pry it open and jump start the battery. I am happy to report now that Burt is as good as new and getting a well deserved night in the Sesser garage. That little trooper has certainly earned it.

It's fun to stay at the...

New Years Eve will be here before you know it so I've taken a head start on my yearly resolutions and purchased myself a membership to the....YMCA!!! Yesterday was my first day hitting the gym and I focused only on doing some cardio but today I decided it was time to play with the big boys. No more elliptical for this guy, it was time for some weight lifting. I'm not really much of a free weight kinda guy. Frankly I'm afraid of no one hearing my screams for help as I'm being crushed alive on the bench press and I feel kinda lame having to take off the 50lb weights from whoever went before me and replacing them with a pair of 20's. Ugh. So I decided to try the machines, but as fate would have it they were all taken up by an insane amount of senior citizens. I guess water aerobics was cancelled today? Anyways I saw one open machine but then that meant out of like 15 manned/womaned machines I was the youngest person by a good half decade. So then I figured I'd try the Dumbbells. Yes Dumbbells sounded great. I start doing curls with pair of 30's.....ok they were actually 25's, and who do I end up standing next to? Yep. One of the jocks I went to high-school with whose arms are now the size of my quad, except much more tan. I should have known this would happen. Now to begin with I'm not real fond of running into people that I know at the gym. For one this I've usually just rolled out of bed or I'm dripping in sweat from my level 7 fat burner workout on the stairmaster. And more than anything I loathe it when that person turns out to be someone who knew me in high-school when I had acne, wore socks with my favorite Payless sandals and weighed a healthy 110 lbs. I was beyond flustered. So as I'm doing my reps in front of the mirror and and catching awkward glances from this guy I'm pondering, "Should I say hi?", "Does he even remember me", " You never acknoldged my existence when I sat beside you in Current World Events so why start now?" Granted i'm assuming we've both matured somewhat since those days and people are normally friendlier once they leave behind the social norms of high-school but you just never know. Something about running into these sort of people from my past just brings out that insecure high-school freshman deep down inside of me. Hopefully I get over it by the time my worst nightmare arrives. The ten year reunion. Ick.

Bye Bye Bye...tonsils

So this past week or so has been a long one. It began with what my anesthesiologist described as "an assault on my throat". At the ripe old age of 24 I finally had my tonsils removed. Why the doctors didn't just take them out as a youngster like the majority of the population I'll never know. Through the years, experts had always assured me that I had abnormally small tonsils that shouldn't cause me any problems. And of course being the trusting, blindly follow kind of person I am I believed their words. Then came the sporadic sore throats and what I can only grossly describe as cottage cheese like entities that I'd hack up at very inopportune times. I finally decided enough was enough. The tonsils needed to go.

So last Tuesday was the big day. I had been good and not eaten past midnight the previous night. In preparation my calorie intake that Monday rivaled that of a squirrel ravenously preparing for winter. Going without food is something I'm not very good at so in preparation I consumed roughly 4,000 calories with the hope my body would slowly digest over the first few days post surgery. I was the first patient that morning and mom and dad drove me there at the ungodly hour of 6:30. After stripping down to my boxers and putting on the gown and requesting several warm blankets they wheeled me in to the surgery room. The last thing I remember before going under was the cold sensation of the anesthesia rushing through my blood stream and Dr. Rice telling me that this was Michael Jackson's drug of choice. What about that statement was supposed to bring me comfort!?!?! This stuff killed him!?!?! He'd obviously missed the memo about me being the unrefuted prince of pop (shut your mouth Justin Bieber) and had I succumb to the same sort of tragedy that took Michael the world would have mourned. Mourned I tell you!

The first few days were not fun. However it was by no means as bad as when I had my wisdom teeth taken out. That was pure hell and if anyone had offered me a diet coke with a teaspoon of arsenic during those dark days I would have graciously thanked them and asked for a straw. It was that bad. One thing you quickly come to realize after a tonsillectomy is how often the average human swallows in a day. I was told it was somewhere around 600. That sure felt a like a low estimate!! Oh and waking up several times every night to the sensation of blooding flowing down your throat gets real old real fast. After one such night my parents decided it was time for a check up to make sure everything was ok. When the doctor asked how much I had bled during the night I was doing my best to guesstimate while under the affect of painkillers. Then completely out of left field my mother pulls out of her Vera Bradley purse a Ziploc bag bulging with all my bloody Kleenex's that she had collected while I was sleeping. Oh yeah, and then my dad felt the need to inform the doctor that the bleeding occurred simultaneously with my first bowel movement in three days. I. WANTED. TO. DIE. (P.S. Mom and Dad if you are reading this, I forgive you and realize now that you did this out of love. xoxo) There has been one at least positive thing that has come from this whole ordeal. I've always said that I was one stomach flu away from my ideal weight. Alright, maybe I've only been saying it since 2006 because I totally stole it from Emily Blunt's character in 'The Devil Wears Prada'. But now I can safely say that I am one tonsillectomy away from my ideal weight! It truly boggles the mind how much weight someone can lose when their only calorie intake for the day is 5 cups of shaved ice, a bowl of blue Jello, and a Tazo Berry Blossom tea with two splenda and a splash of honey! Why didn't anyone tell me about this diet years ago!? Maybe I should write a book because the world must hear the good news.

Four Eyes

Yes. That is correct. The picture above is of me and I'm biting my finger to contain my enthusiasm because I'm so freakin excited. I just picked up my new pair of glasses and the world is now a much clearer and vibrant place. The past few weeks have been a bit rough because I had been suffering from really bad headaches that would not go away. First I blamed it on a possible sinus infection because Lord knows that wouldn't be a stretch for me this time of year. The doctor gave me some antibiotics which did nothing for the headache but did clear up my skin so that I looked fabulous for my San Francisco trip. Thanks walk-in-clinic :) FInally figured it might be my glasses and sure enough my prescription was too strong because my vision has somehow improved! It's a miracle (heaven opens up, angels sings, and doves are flying everywhere)!!!

Now don't let's be mistaken. Wearing a pair of glasses hasn't always been a bed of roses. The first pair of glasses I had were in the 1st grade. I think at that time I was excited to have glasses but the novelty quickly faded from view. It only got worse when my mother and optometrist came to the unanimous conclusion that extremely light sensitive Robbie James needed transition lenses. That happened around 3rd grade and whenever I see pictures from those years I just have to cringe. For one thing, I had a bowl cut the size of Crater Lake and my glasses took so long to transition back once I returned from recess that i was in a constant state of tint. And don't be fooled by my happy appearance in the above picture. Putting on a smile and facing the world was simply a coping mechanism.The only thing that kept me going in those days were the whisperings from Mom and Dad that once I reached high-school i could get contacts.

All was fine and dandy until recently when my eyes dried up like the Dead Sea and my optometrist gave me the cold hard facts. Nowhere in the near future will my eyes be able to support contacts due to the fact that my eyes don't create enough moisture for sustainable living!!!!! Luckily all of this is happening in a day and age where glasses are cool. Hip you might say. Last year i bought a pair of glasses somewhat similar to the ones I have now and people would not shut up about how great they thought they were. I must admit they were pretty cool and they did have fleur de lis on the side. Sometimes I just ooze classiness. Needless to say, these days people would kill for my imperfect vision. I've been offered couples first born children in exchange for my stigmatism. And who can blame them because nothing is more lame that a poser in non prescription glasses. Well unless you're Britney Spears. Because let's be clear people. How adorable does she look here???? Love you Brit :)

In closing I would just like to thank all the people in this world who have made my home called earth a place where people can be openly out and proud about the fact that they wear glasses. Gone are the days of ignorant jokes and feeling less attractive for something completely out of my control. These days when walking down the street I'm greeted by uplifting words such as:

Random stranger: Well heeeeeeeelllllllllloooooooo there four eyes!

Me: Thanks for noticing.

Random barista: I think your stigmatism's sexy!

Me: I get that a lot.

New Blog Title

Well now that my "10 MOnths in AmeriCorps" are over I've decided that it's time for a new title for the blog.
Growing up as a small child in rural Eastern Washington, I spent many a day contemplating the fame I would gain in my adult life. The lights. The cameras. The tabloid covers. But most importantly I spent a lot of time thinking about the name of my future memoirs that my screaming fans would be understandably begging me to release. Early on I had decided upon the name Robsessed for obvious reasons. For one thing it sounds awesome and it's basically my whole name minus the R. Clever right? So you can can imagine my horror the day i get a facebook post from my friend Jess Miller alerting me to the fact that freakin Robert Pattinson must have gained access to my childhood diary labeled 1994 and stolen my title! It's a sick sick world we live in folks. But I've persevered. The show must go on. And so in spite of copy right infringement and the looming possibility of being eaten alive by the Cullen family I have decided to stand my ground and claim what is rightfully mine. Therefore, from this day forward my blog shall be known as: ROBSESSED......... go team Jacob!

First day in San Francisco!

Well here I am. Living it up in one of the coolest cities. EVER. Now this isn't the first time I've been here but i don't think the past encounters really count because both times were under 3 hours and gave me enough time to run through the men's floor at H&M and eat a crab at the fisherman's warf.

So I'm pretty sure my love of San Fran came from all the movies I've seen that are set in this city and the fact that there literally aren't any that I haven't liked. Movies such as:

Vertigo: Amazing. One of my favorite movies of all time. Jimmy Stewart? Bernard Herrmann score? Give it to me all day long.

Pursuit of Happiness: Gets the tears running everytime.

Homeward Bound 2: Lost in San Francisco: This one clearly speaks for itself.

Milk: Inspiring

The Princess Diaries: Anything with Julie Andrews is pure gold.

Herbie Rides Again: Well ok actually this was a pretty terrible movie. As if having a Volkswagon Bug with human emotions wasn't weird enough, at one point i vaguely remember Herbie driving up to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. I was probably 7 at the time and even I knew that was just plain silly.

Superdad: One of my families favorite movies and a very underrated Disney comedy from the 70's. I even learned how to play the theme song on piano... Disney big notes of course.

Now as previously mentioned I am slightly obsessed with the movie Vertigo. Jimmy. Hitchcock. Great music. Beautiful shots of the city. Drama. Drama. AND MORE Drama. So my goal for this trip has been to retrace Jimmy Stewart's steps and thanks to google they were kind enough to supply me with addresses for my first Vertigo pilgrimage. Last night was quite the thrill because my sister and I walked all the way from Ghiradelli Square up the squiggly part of Lombard St. where in the movie Jimmy lived! (900 Lombard if you care to know). So there I am awkwardly standing outside someones apartment (cuz Jimmy don't live there no mo) staring like a deer caught in the headlights at the steps that Kim and Jimmy once stepped upon. I would liken the experience to the viewing of the cloak of Jesus by young peasants during the early days of the Catholic Church. Life changing.

So today I decided I was going to hit the city hard. See as much as i could see and for some stupid reason i decided it would be nice to walk as much as possible as a way to become accustomed to my new surroundings. It would not be an understatement to say that i walked close to 7 miles today around the city and by the end of the day i finally caved and decided public transportation was necessary. Although i did have a frustrating incident with a man who got incredibly angry when i sat down in one of the seats near the front of the bus and yelled "THIS IS FOR ELDERLY AND DISABLED PEOPLE. WHY DON'T U MOVE!?!?!" But how was I to know the rules of bus etiquette? Do i look like someone who regularly rides public transportation!!?!?! The correct answer would be no. I don't. After telling him to can it I decided it would be polite to stand. I cave in so easily.

Anyways many sights and sounds i did indeed see today. City Hall. Union Square. Harvey Milk's and Scott's camera shop. :'(. RIP. Amazing vintage shops on Haight Street. Sunset over Golden Gate Bridge. And most importantly Mission Dolores. And why you ask would I visit the oldest existing building in San Francisco and the oldest Mission in all of California?? Because Jimmy went there. Duh?! In the movie he follows Kim into the mission where he finds her staring at Carlotta Valdez's gravestone. And for 5 whole dollars I got to see the whole thing. I may or may not have been playing the films soundrack on my ipod as I walked through the chapel where Jimmy once tread and I may or may not have tried to find Carlotta's gravestone. Turns out she wasn't a real person but it was still well worth my time.

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.