Tuesday, July 12, 2005

flooding

I went to sleep at 6 a.m. Sunday morning. It's late, I know. But the point is is that everything in the apartment was shipshape. I believe I set thet alarm for 11 a.m. because I need to study for the CSET that's coming up really soon. So the alarm goes off as scheduled, and I, of course, press the snooze. I think I heard the door knocking around 11:30 because for some reason, I remember the clock reading 11:30. I thought, maybe Julie or Andre can get that. I hear the knocking some more, and then I hear Julie's voice. Going back to sleep, I decided. Except now I want to know who was knocking. So I get out of bed.
 
And step into wet carpet.
 
My entire room's carpeting was so wet that when I walk toward the dining room, I can see my footprints. As I continue toward the dining room, the wet footprints follow. EW. EW. EW.
 
Julie said she tried waking me up to tell me, but I was apparently too asleep to notice -- remember, 6 a.m. So the plumber was the one knocking, and the carpet people are on their way.
 
Julie, Andre and I move everything I own in Tampa (minus the clothes hanging in the closet, which is also sopping wet) to the living room after Julie and I move the heavy brass-like-legged dining table and chairs to the living room. You can see the wet dents where the legs were. So my belongings are in the living room and some of my clothes are wet.
 
The plumber said our toilet's filler (?) or filter (?) or something that starts with an F in the tank was corroded and it reached a breaking point and the water overflowed. So the bathroom is also wet. Bathroom, my room, dining room and spots in the living room.
 
The carpet people came and sucked the excess water off the carpet and put in a carpet dryer thing. The apartment has to be left at 70 degrees to avoid mold and mildrew (you don't want that), so in addition to being wet, the apartment is now cold.
 
I have to make up my days for this Friday and Saturday, so I'm working Sunday and Monday. I go to work on Sunday at 3:30 p.m. as usual and returned to the freezer. I go to sleep around 3 a.m. and woke up Monday morning at 9 because it was so cold. I didn't care about sleeping in the living room, but it was freezing. Did the same last night, but less cold.
 
This morning, the carpet in my room dried, and the carpet people moved the drying machine to the dining room, where the carpet is still a little damp. I have also moved my bed to my room, but the other stuff's gotta wait until Friday morning or whenever I have time.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Dennis/Sex and the City

Well, so much for being in Florida, during summer, working for a newspaper. I really wanted to work during a hurricane -- not that I wish destruction on people, but it seems like the thing to do when I'm working at a Florida newspaper -- like a test of endurance and stuff.

*

But anyway, I saw Sex and the City for an extended period of time tonight with Lindsay, Allyson and Julian. I knew it was going to be good, and it was -- and I can feel myself getting addicted (which is bad). It was a fun night. Allyson bought popcorn, and none of us were watching and listening for the popping to stop, and the popcorn was spewing smoke from the microwave. It was funny. We had to open her doors to prevent the smoke alarm from going off. It was good times. :)

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Check out postsecret.blogspot.com. It is a site where people send in their secrets -- some are funny, others are sad and alarming -- on postcards that they decorate. It's hard to describe the feeling after reading them, but definitely check it out. It's worth it.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

history

I have one week left until I take the dreaded CSET -- California Subject Examination for Teachers. And since I want to go to graduate school in secondary education and since I want to teach history, I have resigned myself to relearning history. ALL history. California history (which I know nothing about), world history, U.S. history, social history, war history, legislations, Supreme Court rulings. Everything. So basically, I'm screwed. I need to find a school that'll let me in with a history minor, no teaching experience, and don't require anything more than the GREs. ahhhhh.

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The broadcast TV overcoverage of both Hurricane Dennis and the London attacks have officially begun. Rejoice. Revel. Revile.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Dennis update

I think Dennis is gonna cause little trouble. It is veering to the left (west for you directional people) toward Louisiana. I was so excited. pooey. But anyway, I have 4 cans of tuna and 4 cans of veggies in case it really comes to Tampa. As of 11 a.m., it is 150 mph; a Category 5 hurricane is at least 155 mph. So this one is pretty big. I really hope I get to work on Sunday. That would be awesome. :)

Dennis/London

Well, when I left for work this afternoon, Dennis was a weak hurricane. When I got to work, I think it was a Category 2. Somewhere between then and 11 p.m., it became a Category 4. I didn't even hear about Category 3. Anyway, I am preparing -- for the first time -- for a hurricane without parents. So this should be interesting. And besides, I volunteered to work on Sunday, so I might be at work all weekend anyway in the safe shelter that is the glass-enclosed, Hillsborough River-view, evacuation-zone Trib newsroom.

Tomorrow -- today -- I am going to get some canned food, some candles, some batteries, some cash and a full tank o' gas. Hopefully I will be awake in time to do that before everything gets sold. Woo. hoo.

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My homepage on my computer is Google News, and when I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is to check the news. Today, I awoke to the news of the London subway bombings. At first, I thought the news people are toying with people's emotions. That is, until I checked CNN, BBC, LA Times and other major sources of news. It's horrifying. Why? Don't you wonder why? How? How did the world come to this? When did it all start? People will argue that it started when on 9/11, others will say when the U.S. attacked Iraq, but I think -- I know -- it was way before then. But when? Was there a point in the timeline of the world when chaos started to reign? Did anyone see this coming say, 50 years ago?

On a more personal note, I am going to be in London in almost exactly 3 months. Should I be scared? I'm not right now. It seems irrational to worry about things I absolutely have no control over. I mean, short of avoiding all subways and buses in London, what am I to do? Life has to go on, right? These people who did this -- and we don't know who it is yet, so don't jump to conclusions -- are playing a psychological game with the western world. What will be next? Who will be next? Where is the end of all this?

Thursday, July 07, 2005

journalism

James is in town, and we went to lunch today. We talked about random things here and there. We talked shop -- read: Daily Trojan politics. I am in office politics hell. The DT saved me, loved me, hated me, and it will be the death of me.

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Today, a judge sentenced a New York Times reporter (Judith Miller) to prison for not revealing her confidential source in the Bush administration's unrelenting quest to the end of this CIA leak. It is truly sad what the judge said when he sentenced Miller. You know, without journalism, without the First Amendment protections, without confidential sources who stay that way, the U.S. government, financial companies, so many other people and organizations will never to discovered to be corrupt, unsafe, neglegent. Let me submit for consideration the Seattle Times story about Boeing 767 with the rudder problem that kep crashing planes. The Albuquerque Journal that revealed the U.S. government, during World War II, was injecting supposed terminally ill people with plutonium just to see what would happen. Let us examine the entirety of Washington Post's coverage of the Watergate scandal. More recently, let us look at the LA Times' King/Drew series. Without journalists who are willing to keep their promises to their confidential sources, this country would be in shambles. It's too idealistic to say that the sole reason of journalism is to serve the public good, but it is true. Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted, someone said. We need strengthen the First Amendment and protect journalists with a federal shield law so that other Judith Millers or Matthew Coopers won't have to deal with this. All they're doing is their jobs. Let them.

Tampa, part deux

Where was I? Oh, yes. The drivers of Tampa.

Let me preface this by saying that since I began driving in LA, my main complaint was that they don't know how to drive in the rain, especially when they don't turn on their headlights. So imagine my excitement to go to a city where it (apparently) rains all the time, thinking (naively) that they would know how to the drive -- at least in the rain.

Well, they (I mean, most) can drive in the rain all right, but during the (few) dry weather, I have come to the conclusion that they're maniacs. I'd rather drive in LA and die.

First, they go right-lane speeds in the left lane. You know, if you wanted to go 5 mph in a 40, I'd change lanes, but seeing as how you're doing that (and not me), you should change lanes.

They also don't use the blinker. Fine. Don't use it. But don't cut me off on the interstate while not using it. I'm going fairly fast, and I need some sort of warning. I am not paying for your stupidity.

The merge-onto-the-interstate lane does not equal the stop-sign-and-look-for-cars lane. Merge. They're supposed to let you through if you just take some vehicular initiative.

And finally, you'd think for people who've driven through rain almost everyday and lived through several hurricanes, they'd know how to turn on their headlights when there is no visibility. But, of course, too much to ask.

I didn't used to have road rage. Until I got to LA. It is now even worse. Perhaps I should curb (haha, play on words) my anger and redistribute it somewhere else. Perhaps I should just take deep breaths and spare my passengers the venting and ranting.

Hey, I'm not the perfect driver. But these people drive me nuts.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

hmm, Tampa

Well, Tampa. It's an interesting town full of fun-loving people, crazy weather and the most idiotic drivers I have yet to come across. Let me explain, point by point.

The people of Tampa are a rare breed indeed. They survive near-100% humidity in near-100-degree weather with little complaints. Last year, as y'all might know, the special (more on that later) people of Tampa braved three hurricanes.

Let us move on to the weather of Tampa.

Let me begin with my first week in town. Not only was I hit with a wall of humidity the second I stepped out of my car after sitting roughly in the same position for 10 hours, I soon realized the fickleness that is the rain "schedule" here. Everything was beautiful for the first, um, three days, thereabouts. Sun, no clouds, etc., if you're into getting skin cancer and all that. Then BOOM! Thursday hits, and it POURED at random-ass hours. We're talking 2 or 3 p.m. and 2 in the freakin' a.m.! Yes! After midnight! Pouring down rain! This continued for about 2 or 3 days. It would rain, out of the literal clear blue sky. BAM. Cats and dogs and puppy tails.

(an aside here. I just lost my many-hours-long effort of transcribing interview tape into the night by a single click of a mouse. Don't let this happen to you. Am now kicking myself.)

Continuing on with the weather. See, I thought people at work were kidding when they said it will rain on one side of the street and not the other. IT'S TRUE! On more than one occassion (I think I spelled that wrong) I have driven through literally 5 seconds of rain .... that's like, 10 feet of asphalt .... only to find that is it completely sunny right in front of me! wtf?!

We'll save the fun and joy of Tampa drivers for a later entry, with Fourth of July photos to come. Fun stuff indeed. It is now time for sleep.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

homeless in Tampa/my eye

So I'll be in Tampa for the summer, and I'm still trying to find housing for three months. My expectations have been getting lower and lower. Right now, I want a place to live that's safe and cheap in price. Is that so hard?

In other news, my corneal scratch has returned, and I am now wearing glasses again, which interferes with my lovely new haircut. Booooooo.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Shakespeare in Love

I have finally caved and bought a copy of Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night." You see, the reason is that every time I watch "Shakespeare in Love," I always want to read the play. So the movie was playing on BRAVO last Friday (or sometime like that), and that last scene made me want to read it again. My problem comes in when I actually get ahold of the play and couldn't get into it.

So "Twelfth Night," along with "John Adams," "House of Leaves" and "Anna Karenina" are my perennial "books I can never really finish." But "John Adams" is almost done. One of the reviewers for "House of Leaves" mentioned something to the point of not reading it at night. So I guess I'm waiting for summer to read it. :)

Monday, February 14, 2005

round II

possible corneal scratch, round II?

Friday, February 11, 2005

Travelin' Soldier

DIXIE CHICKS
Travelin' Soldier

Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hairHe's a little shy so she gives him a smile
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talking to me,
I'm feeling a little low
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go

So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you


Chorus: I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Over love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier's coming home

So the letters came from an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of
He said when it's getting kinda rough over here
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for awhile


[Chorus]


One Friday night at a football game
The Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang
A man said folks would you bow your heads
For a list of local Vietnam dead
Crying all alone under the stands
Was a piccolo player in the marching band
And one name read and nobody really cared
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair

[Chorus]

[Chorus]

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

career mistake?

In declining the offer of reporting intern for Ann Arbor, I possibly might have also passed up my chance at a reporting career. So I'm going to have to live with that realization. But Tampa is going to be AWESOME. :)

Friday, January 21, 2005

my eye 3

http://familydoctor.org/205.xml -- I have all the symptoms and the doctor did all that. But it sounds hopeful.

my eye 2

So I went to see the ophthalmologist today. He looked at it. Shined some REALLY bright lights into my eye, and called over one of his colleagues to look at it. That's not a good sign. Apparently I have a corneal scratch. I hope it's not going to be too bad. I like my eye. A lot.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

my eye

So let me tell you about my eye. It is red, first of all. It also hurts when it touches sunlight. Seven on a scale from 1 to 10, I tell both the nurse and the doctor. I can't open my eyes. The doctor said I should see an eye doctor. So I am going tomorrow at 12:30.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

autobiographies

In your college career, how many autobiographies have you written? How many index cards have you filled out? How many times have you introduced your name, year, and major? How many times have you frantically thought of a clever adjective to alliterate with your name? I was always "joyous Julie." Then last Wednesday I discovered "journalistic Julie." Where that was my entire life I don't know.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Marilyn Monroe

I think everyone should read the autobiography of Marilyn Monroe. It's heartbreaking.