servicey

66 posts

The Care and Keeping of Babysitters

I am thousands upon thousands of dollars in debt, thanks to five years of a private university education dedicated to a degree in elementary education. I graduated last May and, with the nature of hiring in elementary schools being what it is around here, I was not lucky enough to land a job right away. We’re still holding our breath for this upcoming year, but in the meantime I’ve been babysitting like crazy — it allows me to pay what’s required on my loans for now, puts gas in my car and I even have a little spending money sometimes. Continue reading →

Social Media and Public Works: Los Angeles’ Carmageddon Public Information Campaign

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Apparently Hitler drives a Prius.

The 405 freeway is an important artery in Los Angeles, and is one of the main ways of connecting the Westside to the Valley. There isn’t a train or bus route that effectively duplicates the route that the 405 takes, so shutting down the freeway for a weekend to demolish the Mulholland Drive Bridge as part of a highway widening project was considered a big deal for the residents of those neighborhoods.  The build-up to the closing of the 405 was heralded by a massive public information campaign that could basically be summed up as “do not drive to the Westside on the weekend of July 16-17, because it will literally be hell on earth.” Granted, if Los Angeles, and particularly the Westside, were more multi-modal, the need for mass panic probably wouldn’t exist. It still would be a big deal but people wouldn’t be urged to just hide in their homes and barricade their doors. However, the information still needed to be disseminated. Continue reading →

The Mindless Brutes of Any Gym, USA

I would divide my body weight into three life sections:

Years 0 – 4: Typical skin and bones Indian girl
Years 4 – 18: Oh look, I found sugar. Sad owner of Lane Bryant catalogs.
Years 18 – present: Healthy alterations between very fit, fit, and “eh.”

For the past eight years, I have been an avid gym buff. My workouts are both thorough and well calculated, and I easily spend 10 hours a week, every week, burning the sugary calories I so happily consume. I am no stranger to cardio equipment, stretch mats, swimming pools, and yes, the weight room. Yet in my time at the five gyms to which I’ve belonged, I’ve found that as a woman, it takes a stoic attitude to command the respect from men that any patron (let alone a regular one) ought to automatically be given. In the gym, I have heard more than my fair share of sexist comments from men about women, despite the fact that mindless brutes of Any Gym, USA prove to be the most pathetic example of possible patrons.

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The Lazy Girl’s Guide to Moving

So! In the Lazy Girl’s Guide to Being Pretty, we discussed how you can look hot without moving too much or putting on pants without elastic waistbands. Because we’re lazy. Now, we’re going to tackle something everyone, but especially lazy people, absolutely dread: moving.

I’ve moved at least ten times in ten years. God, it could even be more; I’m too lazy to count. Some of these moves have been cross-country; some have been cross-city. It doesn’t really matter– it’s all a hell of sweat, swearing, and lifting or carrying heavy things. I have, however, discovered along the way, a few tips to help you move, and a few more tips to help those of us who keep getting evicted having to relocate. Continue reading →

Toilets And Cake – Managing The Disagreeable Task

I’ve often quoted Miss Manners on the subject of friendship: “Your best friend is the person who convinces you that the unbearable is in fact bearable because it is also funny.”  This post is dedicated to the indomitable Will Ortiz, who has seen me through the roller coaster of life with howls of roaring laughter.

Accomplishing a difficult and disagreeable task means different things to different people.  Some procrastinate and  zip through it at the last minute.  Others drag ass through the whole thing, bitching all the way.  I prefer a more balanced approach.  I call it Toilets And Cake.

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Coming Out (Of Hiding)

Hey Kittens!  Ok – I Abandoned Ship. I was AWOL.  And now I’m back, bitches, with a tale of a trip. It wasn’t a big dramatic trip, like To The Antipodes Of The Abyss. Nor was it of medium drama, like to The Wobbly Wall Of Woe. More like a Furlough To The Fissure. Or Fistula Of Fire, since it was indeed a pain in the ass. (Thank you, NYC subway advertisers, for introducing the horror of the fistula to my vocabulary.)

Because I appreciate all the support that came my way from my fellow writers here, I engage in yet another Betty Crocker overshare.  My experience is bound to help at least one of you who is similarly situated, and that’s what it’s all about, is it not? I love you guys, and it’s the least I can do. Continue reading →