Saturday, March 29, 2008

Rambles and Brambles

As stated in an earlier post, I work at a laundromat.

It's actually a pretty cool job, very much like Steynberg in that they have open mics and music most nights and a cafe where I work most of my shifts. Tomorrow I work in the laundry room, though. There are no tips for the laundry shift, but the dirty laundry holds endless material for the imagination. People can either do their own coin laundry or drop it off and for a fee have us throw it in the machines for them - usually there's just a line of laundry bags and we don't see the owners, so I like to try to piece them together from the prAna shirt (does yoga) and the "mom jeans" (over 40).

Laundromats always remind me of a book I loved when I was little. It was about a bear (stuffed, of course) named Corduroy, who got left in one. I grew up thinking laundromats were urban and exciting - maybe that's why I don't mind working at one.


The cafe shift is more exhausting, with few breaks and constant running back and forth to ring up purchases, make espresso drinks, call food orders, take money, re-stock, clean, and enter phone orders. I like it, though, and the regulars are amazing. Yesterday I chatted with a guy who toured with Third Eye Blind and got a beautiful long-stemmed rose from a hobo.

Kate, one of my editors at Chronicle, asked me a few weeks ago if I would like to stay on for two months as a temporary editorial assistant while they look for someone to fill a position. Obviously, I jumped at the chance, but now I'll be working six or seven days a week between Mondays - Wednesdays at Chronicle and the second half of the week at Brainwash.

San Francisco is grey and cold. People are chronically disappointing. But today when I woke up I noticed the daffodils I bought last night at Trader Joe's had already unfurled from tight buds to bright yellow blossoms. Sometimes I wish the world was more about stuff like that.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

I Guess You Guys Aren't Ready for That...but Your Kids are Gonna Love It

Just try to tell me you're not in love with Marty McFly after watching this...

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Wha' Happen?

Dear San Francisco,

I had high hopes when I moved to you. Things started off well: I was dating an amazing guy, I had an exciting internship I thought might turn into a job, I had a couple thousand in my savings account, and I was living the good life. Now, half a year later, the guy is gone, my savings account is empty, I am working at a laundromat, drowning my sorrows in cheap PBR, and myspace-stalking people until 1am.

I still have faith in you, San Francisco. It's time to bring your A-game.

Much love, Haley

Monday, March 10, 2008

Eat, Drink, and Be Awkward

As a certified "picky eater" I laughed out loud several times while reading this post on This Recording blog because I could relate to it so well.
Over the years I've overcome my fear of dogs and germs, but trying new foods always leaves me squeamish. It's completely embarrassing. For some reason people like to take issue with it as well, which always makes me feel much worse. I remember an Easter dinner when I was five or six when my teenage cousins were visiting. Everyone's plates were loaded with green beans, juicy slices of ham, and mashed potatoes. Mine held a tortilla with peanut butter. After saying grace, someone mentioned "all this good food" and I echoed "yes, it is good." "Oh, you're not even having any of it!" my older cousin snapped. I slouched down in my chair in humiliation, tears running down my burning face.

While it's one of the traits I've striven hardest to change, over the years I've accumulated a long list of immature ways to avoid awkward situations. These days I add several new foods a year - usually through pressure from boys (my ex-boyfriend made me try curry, which I ended up loving). Bananas and tuna fish sandwiches, here I come!

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Cette Film est Magnifique!


I recommend it paired with a couple glasses of Merlot and a cute boy...

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Weapons in the War of Ideas

My roommate says soon publishing jobs won't exist because people are reading less and less. In this hypothetical world, where does that leave me?


I'm terrified of the future, for many reasons.