I can has old

John's taking me out to Millennium tonight, and I'm going to guzzle wine and stuff myself until I pass out and he has to carry me home like a newborn lamb on the shephard's shoulders in the nativity scene.

Things

My grandma died this morning.

I didn't know what to do, and I couldn't really do anything anyway.

So like a true Ballert, I made food. I made chive spelt biscuits, mushroom gravy, and red flannel hash. The hash had potatoes and beets from my grandma's garden in it. Between that and the smell of the gas stove and the foggy Sunday morning, I felt like I was back in her kitchen.

I'm still hanging out in the kitchen, seasoning the cast iron skillet that she gave to me. Apparently it was her mother-in-law's. I closed all the doors so the heat stays in, and now between that and my redleaf tea it's quite toasty in here.

I feel indescribable loss, but at least I'm home.

I feel like of all the parts of me, as much as I constantly struggle to define who I am and come up with no answers, the parts of my life that have Grandma in them make sense, and those parts are solid and reassuring, and make the rest of the puzzle pieces fall into place around them.

Random Things Shouted At Me While Cycling In Berkeley

This may be a regular thing.

#1 - Solidarity
(while riding bicycle through heavy rain/wind)
Me: Grunt.
Guy on Bike Passing in Opposite Direction: YEEEEEEEAAA-HHHHEEEEEEEAHHHHHHHH! *fist pump*

#2 - Whateva whateva
Me: *pausing briefly at stopsign, clear for miles in either direction, moving on*
Douche in Bad Sunglasses: There's a stopsign there, you know!
Me: *happily* Thanks for pointing that out! *zooooooom*
D.i.B.S.: *incomprehensible muttering*

#3 - Ew
Me: *enjoying the sunshine*
Creepy bike salmon driving on wrong side of the road: *leers* HEY THERE SWEET CHEEKS.
Me: *swerves out of way, shudders*

#4 - REALLY EW
Me: *riding in skirt and opaque leggings*
Creeper on bike: *cuts me off going around corner in opposite direction* *screams* I CAN SEE THAT SLIT!!!! ALMOST!!!
Me: Really, you fucking pervert, really?
C.O.B.: *bikes off cackling*
Me: *glare*

#5 - Sort of ew but also funny
Me: *stopped at red light near thrift store at University & California*
Older Dude 1: You ride good today?
Me: Yes, I did, thanks!
Older Dude 1: YOU SHO DID.
Older Dude 2: MMMMM-MMMMM! SHO NUFF.
Older Dude 1: You lookin' FINE today girl.
Older Dude 2: KEEP WORKIN' IT.
Me: *blushing, grinning, rides through intersection, ego feeling quite inflated*

Summer

Exciting things!:

-End of June: World Wide Vegan Bakesale!
-Beginning of July: Portland trip!
-Middle of July: Cousins/aunt visiting! Weekend at parents' place! Moving to our new place!
-Middle of August: Germans! And vacation time off from work!

Goal #1 (out of 100)

Read an article in German every weekday.

Hmm

This is some of the best writing I've done in a while. I don't know whether to smile or weep.

Also, here is a pretty picture of cactus flowers from my bikeride this weekend:



Also, some sheep butts from the same ride:

"Review"

So, after two months, my boss gave me the results of my "review." 2 pages full of negative things. Not a single positive one. 13 out of the 16 things on there, we'd already discussed. 1 of the remaining 3, I'd no idea I was in charge of. In the 9 months (wow, it's nine months TODAY) I've been here, no one has had one nice thing to say about me other than "Your cookies are good." 2 pages of criticism and she can't throw in a "Hey, thanks for completing reorganizing the mail station, it was a shithole before you got here"? Hmm.

So, in a big EFF OFF to my employer (not really, more like a way to keep myself from feeling too shitty), here are 16 things about me that are FUCKING AWESOME. I don't care if this makes me a snot. I spent half the evening crying and wondering why I suck at everything so much, so AYHSMB.

1. I'm a really good cook and baker. I make awesome food. My NICE coworkers tell me how fantastic my cookies are. John's classmates started calling me the Boalt Cookie Fairy; people I met for the first time say "Oh! I've had your cookies/muffins/etc! They were awesome!"
2. I don't own a car, am vegan, have reduced my trash output at home and at the office to half of what it used to be, give money to homeless people, try to buy non-sweatshop and second hand clothing, shop at local stores more instead of ordering online (eff you Amazon), and in general I give a shit about the world around me.
3. I volunteer.
4. I'm pretty cute. I have healthy hair, nice big eyes, and my calves are looking pretty hot.
5. I could beat any of my coworkers at a bike or foot race and laugh while doing it.
6. I bring in baked goods to work, even when I don't need tester recipe feedback.
7. I always bring 2 or 3 dishes to company potlucks.
8. For Christmas, I compiled all of the positive comments that the techs had gotten from customer surveys over the last year, and put it all into individual Christmas cards for them. (No one said a damn thing about it.)
9. I organized/cleaned: the mail station, the supply cabinets, my desk, the empty cubicles/storage spaces, the cabinets, and the fridge. It was a pit before I started working here.
10. I try to help my friends/fam out as much as possible. Sometimes I'm a spaz and forget things but I always try to make it right.
11. I make people laugh. And not always at me.
12. I donated money this year to several different causes, both animal rights and humanitarian.
13. I organized a food drive at work. Doing another one in June.
14. I knit things for people.
15. I listen.
16. I KICK ASS AND TAKE NAMES.

Trying

I look for a new job every day.

The economy sucks.

In other news, Vegan Brunch is out and my weekends are about to get a lot better!

Douche of the Day

Conversation I had on the phone at work today...(the names have been changed because it's the interweb):

Me: Thank you for calling [my workplace], this is Megan, how may I help you?
D.M.: [Coworker's name], please.
Me: May I ask who's calling?
D.M.: [Douchey McFuckerton]
Me: And may I ask what the call is regarding?
D.M.: New software. And I wear a size 11 shoe and I'm wearing a yellow shirt. I'm a BUSINESS EXECUTIVE and I am not used to playing these GAMES on the PHONE.
Me: Oooookay, one second...

What I should have said was, "Sir, it's my job to ask who is calling and why, so sorry if that is a problem for you, but I know you'll understand, and I'll trust you to be more courteous on the phone."

"Also, you can SUCK THESE NUTS." *click*

Perverse joys

There are so many perverse pleasures I get out of riding my bike in the rain. I maybe wouldn't go so far as to call myself a bike snob, but I would. I did get into this bike thing rather late in the game but after riding my bike to school every day through the rainiest year of the four I spent in Eugene, and riding my bike to work every day to work here, I think I've accrued a little street cred and can enjoy a bit of snark here and there.

Of course there are things I don't like about riding in the rain: the oppressive damp, Buttstripe, a slower commute, slippy pavement, automobile drivers who can't understand why there's WATER of ALL THINGS, FALLING from the SKY, and apparently think it's my fault and try to kill me in hopes of placating Thor, god of thunder, and bringing the sunny East Bay weather back.

Despite (or perhaps related to) the increase in cars, there's a substantial decrease in the number of other cyclists. I see my regulars: the cute hippie-ish looking girl is wearing a yellow rain slicker, the middle school kid on the BMX with the soggy sweatshirt looks grumpier than usual, and Captain Dashboard with his mirrors, thousands of blinking lights, and acid green windbreaker looks like he always does.

The straightaway between Sacramento and San Pablo is empty, and I get a brief fleeting feeling like I could keep riding in a straight line forever, bypassing the turn on 9th St to go to work entirely, circle the globe, and come back, a little soggier, a little happier.

So, I ask, where are all the bespectacled, beshorted, bestockinged, besandaled fair-weather cyclists with their enormous road hybrids and their inability to pass someone ON THE LEFT NOT THE RIGHT THE LEFT YOU TWAT.

Ahem.

They've got their bikes back in the garage and are no doubt one of the many insane self-righteous Prius drivers (it is Berkeley, after all) just begging for a vehicular manslaughter charge on their way to work this morning.