Thoughts on 'Straya...One Month Later.

-->G'day Mates!
So, I’ve been in sunny Queensland for just about a month now and I have much to report! I figure the best way to present to you “how things have been” is in the form of a very short book or “novella,” if you will. 

But, before I really get into the meat (or, should I say, beef) of things, I'd like to quell (not quarter quell, just regular quell) a few rumors that have been circling...

First off, I think some of you have assumed that I have moved to the “true” outback. Ya know red, cracked, dry dirt all around. (see image below).

I have included a counter image for you that I took this morning….this is the view from behind my house. It’s quite lush, as you can see.

Secondly, they really do have iPhones here. I mentioned to some of you that I bought a Nokia from 2005 when I first arrived and I think this was widely believed. I do indeed have an iPhone, although Siri and I are not really getting along right now (as per usual).

Okay, now that that's cleared up. I shall take it upon myself to describe to you my first experiences here in Australia land....

Epilogue: A Brief Background

We are currently living on a leased property called “Palmbank”; it’s just outside of a small town called Theodore which is about 35 minutes drive from the Gunthorpe’s property “Tarramba.” The house at Palmbank is interesting, mostly because this entire property is owned by a large mining company. Because “Safety is #1” in the mining industry, a few strange modifications have been made to the house. My favorite is this sign on the outside of the shed behind the house:

I like this because it makes me feel important. I sometimes assemble here by myself, even when there is not an emergency going on. It makes me feel like I could someday be a Safety Officer or even an Incident Commander.

Chapter 1: When Your Skype Boyfriend Becomes Your In-Person Boyfriend

I’m learning a lot about Adam now that we technically “live together.” Namely, he has an unmatched ability to eat pasta. Just the other day he told me he was going to have some leftover pasta for dinner. I assumed this was quite a normal endeavor on his part until he came out of the kitchen with his so called “bowl” of pasta in hand. He literally had the equivalent of an entire bag of pasta in his bowl; it had two fried eggs on top and was smothered in barbecue sauce.  Many of you might be shocked by this and assume that I would have berated him for this odd behavior. On the contrary, my competitive nature has come out in full force and I am now determined to top this gastronomical feat. I feel that the Trex equivalent of such a meal must be an entire box of frosted flakes, topped with 2 fried churros, and smothered in jet puffed marshmallow cream. 

I think adam is learning a lot about me as well. I have surprised him with both my obsessive list making and my ability to burp louder than most truck drivers.

Chapter 2: Small Hurdles, Big Pay Off

There are certainly little things that are frustrating here. Like, for example, it’s much more common to use a clothesline than a dryer. Unfortunately, our spinny clothesline thing is built for someone about 10 inches taller than me*. It’s quite a strain on my already fragile lower back to reach that high to hang up a pair of heavy, wet jeans (I know, there’s violins playing for me in the background as I type this).  When I am having trouble accepting things like this, I’ll usually turn to Adam and say in a very accusatory tone; “Why do you people do this that way”. I.E:  “Adam, why don’t you people have neon open/closed signs on your storefronts so it’s more OBVIOUS if a place is open or not, ugh.”  I’ve heard that assimilation can be a “slow and continual process” but I’m confident I’ll get there.

Despite all this, it’s been a glorious thing to finally just hang out with Adam without the threat of departure looming over our heads.

*Since original publication Adam has shown me that the clothesline thing is actually adjustable and he has thus [lowered] it for me.

Chapter 3: A Dog Missed, A Pet Export Company Scorned

Stella has yet to arrive here. Poor mother Jeanne has been stuck in Santa Barbara caring for her and trying to navigate the overly complicated world of exporting a pet to Australia. Her date of departure was delayed by 4 weeks due to a missed vaccination booster. I don’t want to name any names, especially pending litigation, but it was most definitely the fault of the Pet Export Company based in Brisbane. Her absence is very much noticed! But, fortunately, I’ve finally mated up (that's Australian for "become friends") with little Archibald Gunthorpe (who was once, in fact, named “World’s Best” French Poodle [by online survey])

Chapter 4: Tarramba Tours

We have had not one but TWO sets of visitors since my arrival in early April. My intense popularity overwhelms me at times. First we welcomed Lidia and Brian who made an inland detour to Palmbank and Tarramba during their 2 week honeymoon vacation. It was wonderful having them here and I hope they thoroughly enjoyed their Tarramba Tour. Especially because we offered them “mates rates” and only charged $650/day for their Tour instead of the standard $1100. Last week we had the pleasure of spending a few days with Uncle Judy and Barb during their bird/fish/surf tour of Australia. We had a lovely time with them, of course, although there were some red flags that were raised (this brings me to Chapter 5…)

Chapter 5: Underground Protein-Powder Trading Ring

A few weeks before I left for Australia I visited Cousin Grace at her homestead in Mexico City. The day before my departure I received an email from Cousin Pete with a list of things I should try to take to Mexico for Grace. One of the items on the list was Whey Protein Powder. Thus, I found it interesting when Uncle Judy asked if he could unload a few of his things at our house as they wouldn’t have room for some of the items they had picked up on their long journey. Of course this was not a problem with me whatsoever but I did find it strangely coincidental when one of those items happened to be a large bottle of Whey Protein Powder. I’m wondering what the next move is here? Sister Annie, don’t be surprised if you get a call from Luis asking if it’s okay if he ships some protein powder to you and if you wouldn’t mind driving it up to Ruth in San Francisco.

Chapter 6: Enchilation

Things are getting a bit chilly here in Theodore. Our large house doesn't warm up too well, unfortunately. I don't think it's very well insulated. Or, as they pronounce it here, “enchilated”. To me it seems like enchilation would involve covering our walls with 1000's of cheese enchiladas. Although this might keep us warm, I think it would make me constantly hungry if I was always smelling enchiladas. And I don't know what the etiquette is regarding eating the enchiladas directly off the walls.

Chapter 7: Fresh Cut Grass

Today I had my first experience "mowing a lawn." I actually quite enjoyed it. I was on the sort of lawn mower that you sit on top of rather than push. I believe the lay people call this a "ride-on mower." It's sort of like a very slow motion Disneyland ride that's fun and productive at the same time. Also, I'm happy to report that I remain injury free after a 2 hour long lawn-mowing stint. This is quite unlike the Weed-Wacking Disaster of 2005 which left me with scars and burns all over my hands. (Well, actually that might be a bit of an exaggeration...I have one small scar on the tip of my finger from that fateful day. Incidentally, my hands and arms are indeed a bit scarred up, but that's a result of the Dog-Fighting Disaster of 2006).

Prologue: A Reflection of Sorts

I hope this novella has helped improve your understanding of my new life here in Central Queensland. I’m sure there will be plenty more stories to tell and novellas to write. In fact, I’ve already come up with a few titles that I will share with you now…

• Sheep Rearing for Dummies
• A Theological Argument For Abstaining from the Consumption of Lamb
• Why I don’t Eat Animals If They Are Super Cute
• Developing a working relationship with a working dog
• Cattle ranching - what to do when you get attached
• Homemade sausages in a variety of flavors
• Learning to Muster and Wean in 5 Easy Steps
• Kangaroos – Not What You Think

2014 Trex Winter Games/Trials and Tribulations

I was awoken this morning by my new alarm clock (see video).  After said alarm clock was walked and fed, I headed out on the town to start my day. I was excited and optimistic. And then I was immediately pulled over for driving the wrong way down a one-way street. I was confused and in an “unfamiliar town” (aka Kalispell) so the cop was nice and didn’t give me a ticket. Next, I headed up the road to Big Mountain to go snowboarding and had the great fortune of sighting a baby elk grazing on the side of the road. At first I thought it was a very large mutant deer but, surprisingly, I turned out to be wrong. A bit later on, whilst skiing, I got a little overly excited and hopped on a lift a bit too quickly and got yelled at by the lift lady. I was naturally mortified and vowed to never return to that same lift for the remainder of the day. Unfortunately, my plans were side tracked when I dropped my glove about 30 seconds after being on that lift and had to come right back down to retrieve my lost item. The lift girl that had just yelled at me 10 minutes before was like “slow down this time, girl.” So I awkwardly laughed at her and pretended like it was my first time on a mountain (besides the time when I cruised up with Frodo to get rid of the One Ring). On my way back from snowboarding I had to stop at the orthodontist to pick up a retainer to fix my snaggle tooth. (So I’m finally getting that taken care of, which is good.) After getting my face fixed I headed up Hellroaring Road with Stella in tow for a bit of a snow-shoe. This ended up being more of a “gravel-shoe” but we persevered nonetheless. (I invited Barry Llama along but he graciously declined). As I returned back to my humble Polson abode I encountered my friendly neighbor Larry who, once again, informed me that “YOU HAVE A PACKAGE AT YOUR BACK DOOR” (Larry likes to greet most people in a louder, shouting voice). As usual, the package was from Zappos. I’ll return whatever it is next month. I think it’s a new backpack because I have a weird backpack obsession. I didn’t have time to open it because I was straight out the door after dropping off Stella to head to yoga with Kristin. Before my yoga class started, Kristin (the teacher) was asking me about “moving away” and so we started talking about my plans to head Down Under. There was one other lady in the class, she seemed to be in her late 40’s, and was one of those women that perhaps made poor choices in the past but has now “found herself” and thus knows everything there is to know about life. Upon hearing about my plans to move to Australia to be with my boyfriend, she immediately launched into a horrendous story about her cousin who moved to Australia and had a child with a man there, they have since split up and her cousin is unable to return home with the child because of their immigration laws. She cautioned me to “really be sure I knew what I was doing.” Thanks lady. Anyway, now I’m sitting around, watching “Girls” on HBO, and getting pissed off that one of the characters stole my idea for making a music video re-make to Edie Brickell’s song “What I Am” – I still maintain that my version is superior.

In conclusion, the results of today’s “Winter Games” will be released tomorrow but I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking home at least a silver medal based on today’s performance.

[apologies for the train of thought nature of this post and any glaring grammatical errors…you nose it’s been so long since I’ve blogged, I was trying to "get this out there" as soon as possible] 

A Year in Titles

After an extremely long hiatus I’ve decided to streamline my return to the world of blogging by presenting to you a list of potential book or newspaper article titles that are representative of my year in San Francisco.

Without further ado…

• Weekends; An Overrated Pastime 
• Thursdays – The New Saturday
•  My social life – A Thing of the Past
•  My Roommate, My Cousin, My Co-Homeowner (will consider abbreviating to “Co-Homo” if short for space on the book cover)
•  Scootering Vol 1: A Time for Introspection
• Scootering Vol 2: A Series of Near Misses
• Scootering (Vol 2, Ch 1): What to Do if You’ve Just Accidentally Gotten on the Freeway
•  Neighborhood Profiles; Judy Wong of Wong’s Cleaners
• The Pros and Cons of Having an In-House Band
• Band Management 101
• DST,* It’s Just Not For Me
• Teleportation: No Longer a Thing of the Past
• SMU*; an Expose in Two Acts
• Tracy Chase; the Erin Brokovich of SMU
• Becoming a Successful Tutor (OR, How I Force Underclassmen to Listen to my 35 Minute Diatribe Regarding My Issues with the “Administration”)
• Nursing school; 12 Months Seems Excessive…Let’s Get This Done in Three
• The 3 Month ANA Accredited Accelerated BSN Program; A Proposal
• Conversations Between Kelly and Dawn*: An Observational Reflection
• One Point Away from an A: My Downward Spiral
• Become a Morning Person in 12 Steps or Less
• Accepting That You’re Not a Morning Person and Moving On
• Cereal: Telltale Signs That You’ve Had Too Many Bowls
• Cereal: The Essential Vitamin
• Tanka Dogs: The Essential Mineral
• It’s Sushi Time! (Co-authored by Annie Maxwell)
• Hipsters: Enough is Enough
• Hipsters: The Fixie Bike That Broke the Trex’s Back
• Fixie Bikes: Best to Just Call it a Single Speed
• The Squirt Fashioned; A new take on an old drink
• What to do When Lent Gets in the Way of Your Alcoholism and Sugar Addiction
• Sugar Addiction: What’s Not to Like?
• Uncle Judy Comes for a Visit
• Citizens Against People Pooping in the Middle of the Sidewalk
• A Visit Home  (Alternate Title: Vacationing in the RV in My Mom’s Driveway)
• Trans Pacific Relationships: Do’s and Don’ts
• In-flight Seizures: An Economically Sound Way to Upgrade to Business Class During Long-Haul International Flights
• Big Choices, New Directions; Searching for Employment during an Economic Recession (written under the pseudonym Stella Chase)
• Getting Yourself Noticed: The Art of Using Glitter and Scented Perfume on Résumés and Research Posters
• My Time of Personal Growth and Transformation in the Foggy City (also by Stella Chase)

*DST: Daylight Savings Time

*SMU: Stupid Moronic University

*Imaginary nursing school friends

If anyone is interested in publishing one of these titles, please contact my agent, Stella B. Chase.

Thank you for your time and cooperation!

February’s Contemplations and Ruminations – Part Two

Laughing Out Loud

Question: What should you do when one of your close friends starts using “LOL” in casual text conversation?

Answer:

Sadly, this question has become very relevant to me in the past week, ever since a fellow compatriot of mine has decided that LOL-ing is the best thing to come around since kettle corn.

For now, I will allow him to remain anonymous. (I will say, however, that his initials contain the letters P, T, and S. Also, he’s one of my cousins. Whoa, I just realized that if this unnamed person married someone with the last name Dillard, his initials would become PTS-D).

This whole debacle started at 3:25PM on March 18^th, 2011 with the following conversation:

*please note that "bbming" refers to Blackberry Messaging - I guess it works long distance from Mexico

Despite my blatant disapproval, the next day it continued…

I’m not sure what it is about LOL that bothers me so much. Perhaps it’s the fact that people use it to make potentially serious statements seem ambiguously lighthearted. In a way, it’s a lack of commitment on their part. They’re not sure how the receiver of their message will feel about what they’re saying, so they throw in LOL at the end in case they need to play it off as a joke. E.g: “Susan, I’m head over heels in love with you. LOL!” This way, if Susan is like “WTF??” the entire thing can be brushed aside as a harmless ruse.

I think it also bothers me because it’s not something that I would ever say in normal speech, unlike “Oh my god” and “For your information” and “On my way” all of which are statements that I commonly acronym-ize in my textual conversations. I can’t imagine ever saying “laugh out loud” to someone in a face-to-face conversation. Instead, if someone said something that was actually funny, I would probably just laugh. On the other hand, if someone said something to me that was not really funny but intended it to be funny and I didn’t laugh but said, “laugh out loud” I think that would be pretty confusing for that person (just as this poorly written sentence is probably sort of confusing to you).

Furthermore, when someone LOL’s me via text, I’m often left wondering if they intended it as a command or if they were just describing to me what they were doing. In other words, are you telling me that I should laugh out loud right now or are you letting me know that, after carefully considering what I’ve written, you’ve decided to laugh out loud? How are you even texting and laughing at the same time? Are you doing all this while driving too?? I mean, that’s just dangerous.

If it’s the former, please stop telling me what to do. If it’s the latter, I really don’t care whether or not the people around you can hear you laugh. They probably don’t know what you’re laughing about anyway unless you’ve just read them my really funny text message. In which case, perhaps a more aptly suited acronym would be AGOUALOLAYTMRN, which translates to ‘a group of us are laughing out loud at your text message right now’. But, if you do ever receive this in a text, just be sure they’re not trying to make a reference to famed emergency room nurse, Samantha Agoualolaytm, R.N.

I’ve remained adamant in my requests that this behavior ceases. I’ve tried anger, I’ve tried pleading, I’ve even tried to confront this person using the skills I learned last semester in my interpersonal communications course* (see below). Alas, all of my efforts have been futile and the usage of LOL by this person continues to this day.

*1. Identify the behavior that you need clarification 2. present the person with two definitive reasons that might explain his or her behavior 3. finish your statement with an open-ended question like "is it something else?" to leave them room for further explanation

And so, this blog post is my last resort. You leave me no choice but to humiliate you via public forum. I do apologize to Grace as she is an innocent bystander. Although, apparently she LOL’s a lot via BBM, FYI…so perhaps she’s actually not that innocent. Now that my voice has been heard, I see this playing out in one of two ways. Either the perpetrator gets the hint and stops LOL-ing me. Or, I’ve just made my last mistake and in the months to come I’ll find myself being awoken by 3AM text messages that just say “LOL, LOL, LOL.”

IMPORTANT MESSAGE (sorry to disrupt tracy's 10 part february series)

A few of you have expressed concern as a result of most recent post. I want to state, for the record, that I have not been attacked by a mountain lion. I am safe.

On an unrelated note, I just found out that one of my acquaintances and life-long enemies (an unemployed Capricorn named M. Nagelmann) has the same amount of blog followers as I do. This makes me feel frustrated and apprehensive.

Please accept my most sincere and grateful request that you follow my blog if you don't already. Let's get these numbers up for the 2011 campaign*).

Thank you,
Moderator-at-large

*more on this to follow

Hi there! Welcome and thank you for stopping by…do you have any questions?

I often find that February is a month of deep self-reflection for me. I thought it would be pertinent and informative for the public-at-large if I documented some of this month’s ponderings.

And so, without further ado, I would like to present:

“February’s Contemplations and Ruminations – a 10 part series”

This series will be presented here in full and can also be seen in its edited form at the Santa Barbara Museum of Modern Art from February 28th to March 7th. Opening night gala and red carpet begins @7PM, Feb 28. For more information please visit www.sbmoma.org. Press contact: Mary Stuartson (805) 453-2675.

Part One.

Q: Will I be ready and able to defend myself when I am attacked by a mountain lion?

A:
For those of you that are avid hikers in the Santa Barbara Foothills, you are probably already aware that there is a 95% chance that you are going to encounter and possibly be attacked by a mountain lion at some point in your hiking career. Well, that might not be exactly true, but in public speaking that’s what we call the ‘attention getter.’ Regardless of the actual likelihood of a head to head (or should I say claw to jugular) fight with a puma, I think it’s important that you know some basic mountain lion facts and defense tips.

The absolute most important thing I can say to you is: always be aware of your surroundings. When mountain lions attack, they are usually coming at you from behind. They are often perched up in a tree or waiting for you at a rock outcropping. It is essential that you are always scoping out the trees ahead of you whilst you are on your hike (this can be done by utilizing Dan Beckman’s 3-point tree scoping triangulation technique). But looking ahead might not be enough, when I’m hiking I usually take 100 steps facing forward and then turn around and back-peddle for 25 steps. This allows me to take in a 360-degree view of the terrain I am about to cover as well as the trail behind me. Remember, a mountain lion attack is not the same as a velociraptor attack which involves 3 velociraptors (one coming at you from the front and the other two on either flank) and is basically impossible to survive. When you’re facing a mountain lion, it’s going to be a one on one type scenario that you just might be able to pull off if you’ve got your wits about you.

If you are unable to bring your pitbull with you because she is recovering from budget-breaking knee surgery, please do consider carrying a knife (a good example of an appropriate knife is pictured above). The entire time you’re hiking you should visualize yourself being attacked by a mountain lion in a variety of situations so that you are as prepared as possible. For example, let’s say you’ve just turned a blind curve on Tunnel Trail and you’re hiking on a 25º angle when all of the sudden you’re pummeled into by a 112-pound female cougar. She has pounced on you from a perch in a tree 10 meters behind you and 5 meters above you, moving at a velocity of 9.2 m/s and, by my calculations, hitting you with about 4800 lbs of force. In this case, you will most likely be knocked off of your feet and you and the mountain lion will roll and tumble for about 25 meters. These are the most crucial moments in terms of chances of survival! Because you’ve been visualizing this exact scenario, you know that you have 2 seconds to reach into your pocket, pop open your knife, and try to do as much damage as possible. Once the fight goes past this point, it’s really just up to the stars whether or not you’ll make it down the mountain alive.

By no means is it my intention to frighten you or deter you from enjoying a leisurely hike on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I’m just trying to turn you into a more aware consumer of nature. As the boy scouts always say: “Always be prepared when hiking alone in the Santa Barbara foothills – AKA the Northern Pacific Man-Eating Cougar Greenbelt.” (Their other lesser know motto is: "For christ sake, we should sell cookies too!).

(these tips are adapted from my new book – Basic Mountain Lion Defense Tips, Random House Publishing 2011®)

THIS IS ONLY A TEST (A fall on top of a fall)

Technical blogging difficulties have caused me to post what some may refer to as a "test blog." Please do excuse any inconvenience.

Incidentally, I fell off my bike today while trying to ride up a steep hill (I was clicked in and got trapped between the cement and my bike...of course I couldn't get up and there was a car coming). This happened to me once before in front of Los Banos. Compton was there, she saw it.

Dear Sir, in response to your blog...(aka, this answers so many questions)

The below post has hurt me in so many ways but also explains a lot to me about how I’m actually viewed by the outside world. I thought that my past campaigns to end prejudice against the dinosaurs still living within the confines of the U.S. borders had successfully put a stop to any anti-dinosaur sentiments still lingering in the lay community. As you have just read, however, I couldn’t be more wrong.

I would like to embark on a journey with you to explore some of the reasons why dating me may or may not be a dangerous (if not life-threatening) game. I would like to present some truths that I once held about myself (until reading the above blog 20 minutes ago) that have since been entirely negated by this propaganda campaign that was so obviously directed at me and my ‘dating life’.

[A prerequisite blog post for the following blog post can be found at this link:
http://mingle2.com/blog/view/dating-tyrannosaurus]

Before I begin, however, I feel the need to set the record straight. I just want to say that I’ve NEVER won best costume (probably because of the nonchalant attitude I always take towards Halloween that almost certainly turns to panic and distress on October 31st and leads to an expensive day-of-the-holiday trip to American apparel), I absolutely adore taking funny photo booth photos (rarely with blood on my face), my current unpaid internship would never pay for a trip to Tokyo, and my poor hand-holding skills are the result of a previous wrist injury and not due to my outlandish height. I’ll admit, the part about being bad at talking about my feelings is true but we can all agree that asteroids were a thing of the past.

Now that that’s out of the way, I will now attempt to discuss those “truths that I once held about myself:”

Part A: Superficial reasons why I think I’m still single:

1. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to personal hygiene (in other words, I’m this generations’ [person] in a van down by the river)

2. I have professional training at the graduate level but practical experience at the hostess level.

3. My nose to face ratio is about 3:1.

4. I talk a lot a game when it comes to my basketball skills and my desires to go backpacking but rarely walk the walk.

5. I’ve never successfully climbed up a rope using my arm strength only.

6. I unintentionally try to be as awkward as possible when I first meet someone that I potentially may or may not like (how’s that for a noncommittal sentence...speaking of noncommittal...see below)

Part B: Emotional and/or abstract reasons why I’m still single and/or want to be single:

1. I can up and fly to a paleontology conference in Southern Montana on a whim without having to break plans with my ‘parnter’ (nothing beats the look on those archeologists’ faces when a 30 foot tyrannosaur strolls into the room).

2. I don’t have to explain to a significant other why I’m tired today because I was up all night last night nursing a bottle of glenlivet, watching episode after episode of true blood, and eating only the streusel topping part off the coffee cake I just made earlier that evening.

3. On a scale of 1 to emotionally mature I’m about a 2.5.

4. The relationship models in my family leave something to be desired.

5. I once had a private blog with myself (you’ll know what that means) entitled: “You know you had a crappy ex-boyfriend when...” (...you've had a burrito thrown at your head for no apparent reason, etc.”

6. In my opinion, my single status is entirely appropriate whilst I’m still recovering from aforementioned “unmentionable” past occurrences (see #5).

7. I love taking physical risks (e.g. bare-foot puddle jumping in murky ponds of an unknown depth) but I’m totally terrified of taking risks that might leave me feeling emotionally vulnerable.

In conclusion...(aka, enough already!)
Before reading the now notorious ‘mingle2’ blog I had deluded myself into thinking (with the help of weeks of intensive psychotherapy) that it’s important to spend time figuring out the you in who you are before letting yourself depend on another person (and vice-versa). (Apparently I’m a school-obsessed pseudo-alcoholic with a love/hate relationship with my dog and an unhealthy obsession with the people that are obsessed with finding extraterrestrial life (e.g. SETI...look it up, it’s amazing). And hey, it’s only taken me 3.5 years of alone time to figure that shit out.

I have spent so much time convincing myself of the reasons why the above reasons are valid explanations as to why I am a GF with no BF when in actuality this anti-Trex blog has been circulating for over two years with an untold readership completely unbeknownst to yours truly. All those times I met someone new and excitedly said; “Hey I’m Trex but some people call me Tracy” instead of thinking to themselves “hmm, well that’s interesting. A dinosaur! I’ve never met a dinosaur but would really like to get to know her for who she is and not what she is” they were actually thinking about the 9 reasons they shouldn’t date me. How’s that for a glass dating ceiling.

And so, the moral of this incredibly long-winded blog is...
If you too are a long time singler (LTS) that’s ready to get back into the dating game (DG*)...stop wasting your time with self-reflection mumbo jumbo or half-hearted attempts at improving your interpersonal skills and instead spend at least 4-5 hours a day sitting on your laptop scouring the internet for over-generalized blog posts that are possibly directed at a person of your similar stature. Only then will you be able to move on and a find true happiness.

Sincereley,
Trex (and proud to be one)

*not to be confused with the popular Santa Barbara coffee shop the Daily Grind. Although, based on the amount of attractive, pseudo-hipster, and yet possibly single people that frequent this establishment (unless, of course they forgot to bring any cash) it is a possible conduit for your return the dating game

Proposed New July 17th Holiday

I’d like to make a motion to officially change July 17th from “World Day for International Justice” to “World Day for Sending Text Messages without Fixing Awkward Phone-Induced Auto-Corrects.”

(or WDSTMFAPIAC for short…but not to be confused with World Day for Stopping Terrorists from Manifesting Frightening Attacks on People in Asian Countries which is on April 7th)

It has been one year to the day (give or take a few months) since my venerable sister, Annie Quail*, sent me the infamous ‘the photo albums are in the living room underneath the yak’ message that sent me into a panic searching for yak that was not in the living room when I checked and thus had obviously wandered off. Annie’s inability and unwillingness to spell check her text messages has caused me more grief and mental strife than I care to admit. However, in an attempt to be a bit more of a positive and accepting person, I’d like to create this holiday in order to recognize the humor that these so-called mis-texts can sometimes create rather than dwell on the pain.

(Incidentally, even the ‘yak’ text had a happy ending as it resulted in Annie’s and my realization that a yak was just what we were missing in our lives. We ended up obtaining a yak last August…her name is Alicia and she’s a bit of an aggressive eater but otherwise an acceptable companion...a Samwise Gamgee of our day, if you will.)

So, please join me in the celebration of this new and important holiday (justice smustice!) by submitting your favorite auto-corretcted missed texts to me by this evening at 11:59PM. Winners will be announced via blimp message.

Proper format is as follows:

1. Intended text: “Hey Annie, what are you and baby up to today?”

2. Auto-corrected/sent text: “Hey Annie, what are you and Beverley up to today?”

3. Your emotional response: This made me feel happy and also curious about when I was going to meet Annie’s new friend Beverely.

I thank you for your consideration and timely response.


*names have been changed to protect Annie Chase’s anonymity

This Hiatus Ends Now/Six Blogs-in-Progres for your Reveiw

I deftly apologize for my inconsiderate blogging break. I've just returned from a long journey abroad during which time I was unable to access the internet.

I'm not ready to jump right back into things but here are some possible blogs that I may tentatively be working on in the near to distant future.

Any feedback will be negated and/or ignored.

1. honestly, your dance moves are really getting in the way of my tetris-playing/why can't every night end with a grand slam breakfast at denny's?

2. tips on riding your scooter after minor surgery

3. in addition to being an avid (pathological?) birdwatcher, turns out my uncle geoff is also an adept Somalian scam artist

4. my love for robert pattinson is starting to affect my job performance

5. i've decided to run for governor of california in November...your financial and emotional support in the coming months would be greatly appreciated (please visit www.trex2010/worlddomination.com to pledge your support...paypal accepted)

6. Do it yourself yardwork with Lidia and Tracy: this week we'll show you how to build a garden box and re-brick your outdoor barbecue pit


Thank you,
Tracy

Average-Sized Dinousaur Seeks Partner in Crime/I LOVE it when people write LOL after everything they say/MUST be willing to buy timeshare together

My past experience with dating websites has been abysmal at best. It's probably because I refuse to actually go out on dates with people (in real life or virtually). I'm hoping that I'll meet my match on match.com (no pun intended! actually, i wonder if that's why it's called match.com...hmm??)

If you know anyone that isn't yet desperate enough to try their hand at online dating, please forward the following info to them along with my email address. Thanks for your help with this difficult matter. These are trying times people...

BuggyBliss's profile:
Of all the usernames match. com could have picked for me, they went with buggybliss. Sadly, I was way to lazy to think of something on my own so I just went for it. Now I guess I have to go buy a buggy which I really can't afford right now, perhaps I can just lease one. If anyone knows of any good buggy dealerships please send me their info.

Anyway, I digress. I'm brand new to match. com and so far I've really enjoyed getting the website's automatic match emails that say things like..."He has the same birth month as you" or "Like you, he lives on the earth." What are the chances!? (1/12 and 1/1). I decided to join said dating website because I've realized how terrible I am at first time dating interactions/awkward life moments. I usually make things 11 to 12 times more awkward than they need to be, thus making it a bit difficult for me to get to know someone right off the bat.

A typical day for me usually involves...waking up (like you, he also wakes up in the morning), going for a hike with my dog/the light of my life, riding my bike to class, going to class, riding my bike home from class, taking my dog for a run, studying, eating (finally, I was so hungry all day!), and then watching a few old episodes of the office. When I'm not busy with ridiculous amounts of school work (I'm just finishing up my masters at Bezerkely in public health), I enjoy short walks on the beach, snowboarding, swimming, backpacking, jumping, cooking, traveling to distant lands, taking bad pictures of boring things, charging my cell phone, and hanging out with my new niece.

I would love to meet someone who has a good sense of humor and doesn't mind having long conversations about how dangerous chimpanzees are (they should REALLY not be kept as household pets).

In response to your barrage of questions

It seems that my most recent post (see post below) has caused a bout of mass hysteria and confusion in the lay community. Please allow me to clear up some important points and answer some of your more pressing questions...

1. Yes, the craigslist link is an actual ad that I, the blogger formerly known as Trex, posted to the missed connections section
2. The women in question (the 'hot girl on bike' if you will) was a Megan Compton look alike (could have been a body double...not sure if there have been any recent assassination attempts on Megan) that I accidentally hit on from across state street while I was walking a stray dog named Stella
3. No, I do not yet have a green feather but will be sure to pick one up
4. No, I am not gay (although, statistically and genetically speaking, it would make sense)
5. No, I do not really like the band Staind
6. Yes, if you demand that I retire from blogging, I really have no argument

And so, after a long and tumultuous run, I hear by step down from my post as 'Best Blogger within a 25 foot radius of the 1800 block of Chapala st.'

I'm sorry for any pain, frustration, or confusion I may have caused.

I am officially shunning myself.

Sincereley,
Distraught and Concerned in Santa Barbara

Do you ever get embarassed when you yell at someone that you think is your friend but turns out to be a total random

Instead of hiding in shame, I've discovered a more constructive way to deal with my embarrassment...

http://santabarbara.craigslist.org/mis/1495254918.html

How I overcame IABPDD

In the past two months I’ve noticed that, upon opening certain text messages or emails, I start to feel slightly nauseated, my eyes twitch, and my left hand goes numb. I recently initiated a massive epidemiological investigation to try to determine what exact exposure is leading to my frightening symptoms. After careful observation, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a direct link between my symptoms and any emails or MMS text messages that have a picture of my sister’s baby attached.

This extremely disruptive disorder, which I have so aptly named 'Insanely Adorable Baby Picture Distraction Disorder' has been found to only respond to the following treatments:

• high doses of intravenous interferon gamma
• blocking your sisters' email address and phone number
• cloning yourself so that you can move home and see said baby everyday but still "graduate" from school

This last option, however, is a very high risk procedure; what happens if your clone back in Berkeley gets a boyfriend and you stay single back at home…what does this say about the real you? (more on this in next weeks blog: “The Pros and Cons of Cloning Yourself”)

Please refer to the picture below to see if you too are a sufferer of this terrible affliction. (More info on support groups will be posted tomorrow).

Oh Berkeley, How I've Missed You/I'll Wait a Few More Days Before Driving My Car into that Bridge Embankment/The Slide that Saved the Day

(Please pardon the somewhat graphic nature of this post...Sarah, you're in high school now so I guess you should know that sometimes people say bad words in real life).

The other day, I was hopping on my bike to leave campus when an older gentleman approached me, paused, gave me a funny look, and then said; "Ummm....sexual intercourse??"

I pondered his proposition for a moment and then replied in a similar fashion; "Ummm....that's extremely rude of you, sir."

In response to my somewhat justified answer to his question he said, and I quote; "I KNEW that you would say something like that, you fucking slut, whore." And then, before I could even apologize for being so painfully predictable, he walked away...

The following day, I was on campus again, returning to my car after sitting in a oven-like computer lab printing stuff for class. As I walked back to my car...hot, sweaty, hungry, and cranky...I was thinking about how nice it was going to be to sit in my car, blast the AC and listen to some sweet tunes. Alas, as soon as I opened the door to my vehicle, I had a painful flashback of this past Christmas when my car window was smashed in Santa Barbara and a multitude of my things were stolen. The only difference being the fact that, this time, I was parked on a busy street, in the middle of the day, and there was nothing in my car (except the iPod that was tucked away in the center console, which was, naturally, stolen). BASTARDS!And as if Berkeley had not yet made me feel welcome enough, two nights ago I got a triple wammy (strangely, all three via email...talk about the stars aligning).

As it were, this Monday night I got the following 3 emails:

1. Email from my current landlord/vacation rental proprietor saying she wanted to rent out a larger portion of her house and that I was welcome to stay as long as I was okay with paying an extra $700 a month...in other words, I have to move out October 1st

2. Email from my ex-landlord (by whom I was renting out a "furnished" house while he and his family were out of the country for a year)...attached was a THREE PAGE, single-spaced, Word document explicitly detailing how disrespectful and impolite it was of me to move around all the furniture in their house and put their crap down in the garage and, as a result, they would not be returning the remainder of my security deposit (please see photo below to get a sense of the condition they left their house in for me to move in last year)...in other words, see you on Judge Judy a-holes (actually, Uncle Geoff, we could have a mock Judge Judy trial for practice, you are, after all, a lawyer...Megan, you should be there too).
(not-so-empty kitchen drawer)

3. Email from my mom saying she accidentally opened a piece of mail from Geico for me which said they were canceling my policy as of October 5th as a result of a 2007 accident and 2 tickets. I must say though, this one did sort of make me smile as I remembered one of those tickets which I received on my way to Tahoe this past winter...after getting lost and then finding one of the highways closed, I ended up having to drive all the way around the lake to get Tahoe City...by 2AM, after driving for 6 hours, I was a bit delirious and had my music up as loud as possible in an effort to stay awake. Apparently, I was going a bit over the speed limit and I drove for over a mile with a cop behind me, sirens on, before I realized I was being pulled over. He had to call for backup and by the time he came to my car window, there were 4 cop cars behind me and about 8 or so cops. He asked me about six times, "how much have you been drinking, how much pot have you smoked, what prescription drugs are you on??" Sadly, I wasn't on any of the above...if I had been, at least then I would have had a better excuse then just being a total idiot (well, I guess either scenario is pretty idiotic). As the saying goes, friends don't let friends drive blond.

I felt prepared to write this blog today because I knew that my story could end on a happy note. For me, salvation came, as it so often does, in the form of a playground meant for children ages 2-5. Regardless of what my birth certificate says, I've always thought of myself as a child aged 2-5 (incidentally, the playground in question has a sign that reads "For Children Ages 2-5; Parent supervision recommended"...hmm, really, just recommended? That make sense, it sounds totally safe for a 2 year old to walk to a park alone and swing on the monkey bars).

I will not go into too much detail here...this is one of those cases where videos speak louder than words. And so I leave you with the following...



And I bid you goodnight...

You Know You're Being Productive at Work When...

You are having facebook conversations about fake family reunions with your mom from your dog's perspective...

Jeanne Chase
Friend Requested by Stella
Today at 2:01pm

Message
Stella,
I am not sure I know who you are, but interestingly, we are starting a Chase family reunion in the Black Hills as I speak. What family of Chase's are you related to?
Jeanne


Stella Chase
Today at 3:23pm
Hmm, Jeanne eh? That name sort of sounds familiar...if you posted a PICTURE maybe I would have a better idea of who the hell you are. Actually, now that I think of it, perhaps you are somehow related to a dog I used to mutilate...I think his last name was Chase but I'll have to refer back to my records. If it turns out we are somehow connected...I would LOVE to attend the Black Hills Reunion. In terms of my lineage, my great great grandfather was John Arbuckle Chase III and his wife was named Susan B. Anthony. My parents are Trex Margaret Chase and Gepetto Rocko Anderson (they aren't married and my mother decided to give me her last name instead of my father's for tax purposes.)
Hope this clears some things up for you,
Stella

Summer Speed Blogging

(Not to be confused with Winter Speed Skating…totally different thing).

Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Sorry Blog, it’s been so long since we’ve last spoken!

Well, a lot has happened since my last dead baby possum update…in fact, I’m going to have to revert to the days when we did things in outline format (just like when I wrote my hard-hitting report on Hernando De Soto (famed Italian explorer) in the fifth grade). I actually have a lot of really interesting stories about my childhood (especially from when I lived in Summerland but nobody ever seems to let me finish that one).

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I have tried very hard to format this blog so that proper indents were displayed...alas, blogger.com is sort of flukey. Thus, my outline may seem convoluted at best. I'm sincerley sorry. I can send you a more formal word document in case you wanted to print this out).

HEADLINES:

A.I’m pregnant
a.Wait no, that’s my sister
i.Yes, she’s doing great - thanks for asking
ii. No, I have not yet learned how to get around the baby-proofed cabinet
drawers in the kitchen

B. I’ve mastered the art of acting like I’m doing work at work when I’m actually doing nothing
a. This blog is case in point
b. Work is really fun at the public health lab…ESPECIALLY if you like POOP
i. Everybody knows I like poop
1. I just realized that I’m a sucky outline writer (you probably figured that out at A.a)

C. One of the best parts of my job is receiving emails from our office
assistant like the following:
a. “Hey Cyndy, I’ll work on the bleachy thingy tomorrow, but I did you a
favor and got you 10,000 new lab requests (2000 for scratch paper, and
8000 for toilet paper)….Let me know if you need anything else.! -Jin Nim
b. explanation: I’m putting in an order thru my lab for 80 gallons
of bleach…it should arrive just before my time is up here so I’m
going to take it with me and sell it on the black market (bad joke
interlude: all that bleach is really gonna turn it into a white
market!)

D. I’ve gotten obsessed with the idea that I can actually do a triathlon
a. This idea is in no way based in reality
b. 7AM pilates is my worst nightmare
c. I took my first fall on my bike last night while clipped in
i. Megan was there…she saw it
ii. Luckily I landed on some soft grass
iii. This occurred right on Cabrillo Blvd.
1. there were myriad cars driving by…a lot of which were probably
operated by legitimate athletes because we were just on our way
home from Night Moves
2. I got stuck with my bike on top of me and couldn’t get my foot
clipped out
3. this was one of those top 10 embarrassing moments for me
a. can’t really put it in my top 5…if you knew me you’d know
why
i. you probably actually do know me if you’re reading
this

E. Stella is thriving at Astrocamp
a. I’m able to send her emails but she can’t write back
b. I’m pretty sure she’s learning a lot about space
c. I just hope that when she returns she will not want to become an astronaut
i. Actually, then she would FINALLY HAVE A JOB

F. Sailing class starts this Saturday
a. I’m sure there will be more on this in a future blog titled, “How I crashed
a 42 foot sailboat and almost drowned in the Santa Barbara Harbor”

F. Drinks of choice this summer
a. Old fashioned’s
b. John Daly’s
c. Whiskey, water, and wine (in one glass)

G. A picture is worth a thousand words
a. Please see attached (obviously)

Sincereley,

Thriving Scientist

Yet Another Possum Murder that Has Yet to Be Avenged or Dead Baby Possum Update 3

WARNING: this blog contains images that some readers may find disturbing (others may find them quite entertaining) (and still, there are others that may be completely indifferent and unperturbed)

This morning, in my backyard, I happened upon the grisly and yet increasingly common scene that is pictured below.

Another possum dead.
Another life taken before it really even started.
A perpetrator still on the loose.

The frequent appearances of dead baby possums in my backyard is becoming, in my own brilliant mind, one of the great unsolved mysteries of the 21st century.

Here are the facts...they are indisputable:

1. There have been 4 murders that have occurred in my back yard to date.
2. All of the victims have been less than 1 year of age.
3. All of the victims have been either female or male.
4. The night that each murder occurs, Stella is usually heard (by my own person) to be awkwardly barking at something or someone; I say awkward because it is not a bark of joy, fear, or anger, but rather one of innocent curiosity.

From the above facts I have deduced the following:

A small mythical creature called a leprechaun has been sneaking into my yard and battling against its greatest known enemy, the baby possum.

Clearly, Stella’s curious bark is but a reaction to the strange scene she witnesses on some nights when I let her out to go to the bathroom. I am more than certain that Stella is not the perpetrator herself; we all know that she has long been a friend to the possum's (just as Gandalf is a friend to the hobbits!)

I will be sure to parlay the evidence that I have so painstakingly collected to the proper authority.

If you have any other information, I have set up an emergency hotline where anonymous information can be left: 1-800-DEADMARSUPIAL

Thank you for your time.

Does someone have a personal vendetta against me...or pehaps I have a secret admirer?

The evidence stands as such (Megan, please read in great detail):

Since I moved to Berkeley, I have had both my camper shell (see an earlier blog) and, more recently, my bike seat stolen (I tried to ride my bike the other night sans seat...it only took me a (painful) moment to realize that a crime had been perpetrated).

Either someone out there hates me and is enjoying it every time I have to spend money that I don't have on Replacement Vehicular Accessories (RVAs).

OR (the more likely scenario): I have a secret admirer that is assembling all of the necessary parts to create a one-of-a-kind T-REX Mobile. They will most likely be presenting me with said car sometime in the next 2 weeks. At this time, they will also reveal their true identity.

I will keep you posted.

Before I was a werewolf I was Dyf painting

(Please note, this is the #2 installment of the commercially-sanctioned BBC blog entries that I have agreed (contractually) to write)
(Warning: this blog is rife with introspectively used vocabulary words (see: this sentence))

Before specifically addressing the topic at hand, I would like to, for the moment, delve into the notion that I have a bit of a history of purporting to be something that I'm not (e.g. dinosaur, IRA member/potato-famine survivor, frat boy, Bret from flight of the conchords, etc.).

I have recently come to the painful conclusion that my desire to be someone other than myself is a way for me to mask the sorrow that I feel when I reflect on my somewhat boring day to day life (as in, if you can't find me spooning with with my most probable life-partner Stella, I'm probably studying in Barnes and Nobles while debating whether or not see a movie by myself next door at the Emeryville AMC theater with one of my 10 free movie passes that I received as a credit card reward). Don't get me wrong here though, I'm certainly not complaining, just searching for some sort of reasonable explanation. And it's not as if my life isn't interspersed with the occasional exciting holiday and vacation activities (e.g. nighttime zip-lining in Whistler or 4AM unplugged, solo keyboard playing jam sessions) (see below).

Sadly, today things progressed to the point of: "if [insert exciting event here] happened to me, I would write a blog like this [see below]:

"Staying Strong in the Face of Adversity: How to Cope with a Severed Middle Toe"

I was riding my bike today (with Stella in tow), calmly enjoying a sunny afternoon and trying not to pereseverate on my pending infectious disease exam. All of the sudden, I was distracted by a semi-cute guy driving a purple Isuzu SUV. In the midst of debating with myself over whether or not a guy can still be considered cute if he drives a purple Isuzu SUV, I ran into a nearby curb, foot first, trapping my left middle toe between said curb and previously unmentioned bike pedal. This effectively sheared my toe clean off.

Luckily, there was a gentleman nearby in his front yard doing some gardening. I approached the man, toe in hand, and calmly asked him for a bowl of ice..."Whatever for?" he asked. And I responded; "It's just that, I've severed my toe off and, as they say, 'get in ice as fast as you can.'" (For those of you that don't know me well, I'm an expired EMT so I know things like this. Also, I'm an expired notary if you need my [clandestine] services).

THE END (Sorry to cut it short, this was as far as things got in my head. I'm hoping that the toe was re-attached and I was still able to live a normal, albeit boring life with no change in my gait or disposition.)

And now, in an effort to succinctly address the topic by which I am being "paid" to discuss:

1. Had I been a Dyf painting I would have likely been privy to some of those "family secrets" that we've all been dying to discover (you'll know what that means...actually, probably better than me).

2. It's possible that I am still a werewolf now. As with borderline leprosy (and CA-MRSA/HA-MRSA for that matter), the distinction is always blurring. We all know how much common mysticism and folklore tradition tends to confuse the mythological dinosaur/werewolf creature (yeah, I don't know what the hell this last sentence means either).

Sincerely and apologetically,

The were-rex (or T-wolf) formally known as Dyf.