tuesday = fresh new flower.

it was a good day.

i'll tell you about it tomorrow,

eyes are sleepy.

toast, tits, and that's pretty much it

having a 6'6" male sleeping in your living room/family room/t.v. room has its downsides. i haven't had a toasted anything in over a month now and this morning i just really, really needed my fix--but even doing something as simple as placing my english muffin into the toaster oven turned out to be a major production. everything in that damn kitchen wanted to squeak. or fall. or belt out a loud "beep" when it was good and ready. half-way through this process of trying to tip-toe my way around made me realize how suffocating my living situation can be. if i had attempted to make a smoothie, i think they would've thrown my mattress out the door. oh wait, i don't have a mattress. and isn't it funny how tiny kitchens in over-priced apartments are so noisy but more spacious ones in nice homes are so quiet? go figure.

and another thing...how is it that the farther along in your pregnancy you are in this town, the slimmer, prettier, and more adorable you look? absolutely ridiculous. only in l.a. man. one of my new co-workers just informed me that breastfeeding has the amazing benefit of dramatically reducing the appearance of fat cells in your body. maybe that explains the four year-old boy i saw glued to his mother's breast.

;)

a few things to look out for in the week ahead:

i'm kicking off a major "girls girls girls" campaign today in an effort to make meaningful volleyball connections (even though that sounds like i'm recruiting talent for a girls gone wild video). this means i'll be contacting total strangers in an effort to train or play with them. you miss every shot you don't take, as they say. or, as my brother would say, "you miss every shot at scoring with a girl you don't try to hit on".

i have just two more days of training before i get to fly solo at my new restaurant. this means more money, which means more happiness...because money = happiness, right? yes, food and shelter make me happy. timing is a funny thing because i JUST received this text from my dentist back in north carolina: katrina, you are due for your dental visit. please call ... to set up an appointment. don't hold your breath, doc.

my tuesday

hit the coffee house for just a house (no fancy concoctions today). luckily, there was one seat left open for me, so i proceeded to nestledown. nestledown, a new term i created, meaning "to arrange ones personal belongings outside of the home much like one would in the privacy of ones own home." or, put less delicately, "the act of arranging and spreading out all of your personal shit in a public area so as to take up as much space as possible while making yourself feel at home". notice the little brown crumbs on that tissue paper? that's just what was leftover from the hunk of dark chocolate i brought with me. with almonds--can't forget those.

then i began to make a list...the things i enjoy doing in one column and the things i don't enjoy doing in the other. try it--it's harder then you think, partly because you catch yourself wanting to censor what you really like or dislike.

next, i headed over to the manhattan beach farmer's market where i have been volunteering my time for the past three weeks. two small boys were pulling leaves down from a nearby tree and us ladies were discussing different ways to make them stop. my suggestion won much acclaim: "hey kids. did you know that santa claus is best friends with mother nature, and everytime you pull a leaf, santa puts one less present under the tree for you?"

at the end of my shift, i bring home one of these:

to put in one of these:

classy, huh? i think so. that was a good bottle of wine, too...no more than four bucks from our trusty friend trader joe.

after taking a short-lived nap, i played volleyball with my roommates for a couple hours and then here i am, post-shower, watching enemy of the state and writing these words. tomorrow is an important day because i start training for my new waitressing job in the early a.m. and then i'm attending a social networking event in the evening. i've already crafted a cheat sheet of all the interesting people who i want to talk with...a culinary artist, nutritionist, screenwriter/producer, and several personal trainers just to name a few. i'm sure they will be equally excited to talk with a...wait for it...waitress! fascinating.

wish me luck :)

a plunger these days costs about thirteen dollars. i am not expanding on the subject.

happy father's day

dad, this one's for you...

college is the quintessential time for young people to realize and take advantage of exercising frugality...of finding ways to be extremely, painfully cheap so that they could afford to be more lavish later on. for me, the college years were not the beginning of my training but rather the fine-tuning of it. i have been exposed to the values of saving and scrimping since i was a little tyke, thanks in large part to one person: my dad. so for me, taking hotel toiletries from the maid's cart is as normal as brushing my teeth.

friends, teammates, roommates...they could all attest to my frugal ways. depending on how you look at it, i am either down right cheap or ingeniously resourceful when the situation presents itself. i think it was sometime in high school when i rinsed my first plastic straw after enjoying a homemade smoothie. starting my sophomore year in college, i would rip out all the perfume adds from magazines i could get could my hands on. clinique one night and chanel the next. i never once bought a bottle of perfume. i use paper grocery bags to wrap packages and plastic bags to line bathroom and kitchen trash cans. did you know that empty coke cans make excellent depositories for grease? and if you smash an empty cereal box so that it's flat you save that much more space in your disposable bin?

but how did i get this way? let's go back to dad, the master of this game. dad does not like to waste things. not gas, not water, not energy, not toilet paper. and if you really know him, definitely not to-go cups. when he leaves a coffee shop, he will return home with at least a half-cup refill so that a) he has a "free" cup to enjoy later in the day and b) can rinse the cup when he is finished and store it in his paper cup warehouse. oh yes, the paper cup warehouse. i wish i had a picture, but just imagine a whole shelf filled with stacks of cups from starbucks, caribou, peet's, and several other local "breweries". complete with stir sticks, plastic lids, and sugar to boot. oh, the sugar! we tease my dad every time we leave a cafe because there is a 99% chance that he will have stuffed some sugar packets in his pockets for the road home. he also saves every container possible for later use...i couldn't leave an empty plastic container in the pantry one day without discovering that it was now a storage place for coffee grounds or plant life the next. he'll cook dinner for himself and eat right out of the pan so that he saves the water form having to clean another dish. i once caught him leaving the kitchen after having microwaved his tea and noticed that there were a few seconds left on the timer..."dad, why don't you hit 'clear'?" he wanted to save those seconds for the next item that was to be heated.

growing up, i viewed this as strange. obsessive. embarrassing. but now, i see it as being smart, not only for the environment but for my wallet. i proudly bring my brown paper lunch bags and sandwich bags home for round 2 (and 3 and 4). my dad has taught me how to take something that is "used" and make it useful again. why throw something out that can still serve a purpose? we like to cling to things that are new and shiny, getting into a wasteful routine of using things once and then starting all over the next day. i think it's definitely easier to start these practices when you are in a tight financial situation, but it is actually wise to allow yourself to adopt them even when you feel no pending financial burdens. i'm not a tree-hugger, but i'm not a careless consumer either. without my dad's influence i would've never realize the value of saving and come up with signature moves of my own (i'm wearing giorgio armani). times are tough right now, and when i catch myself doing something conservational (or borderline "are you seriously saving/stealing this!?") i smile and think of him.

happy father's day dad :)

sunday funday

i.love.sundays.

i love the feel of the thick bundle that is the sunday paper. i love the feel of a hot beverage in my hands, even if all it is is empty calories (140 to be exact--hold the whip!). i love how a sunday morning feels like the first day of the rest of my life. people around me are earnestly enjoying their last carefree morning before the work week begins, and i think everyone is just more patient and thoughtful in general. i am optimistic i am inspired and i am game for love. if you are a stalky, bald, sheepish man out there, i suggest you stop by the starbucks on manhattan ave. because even your worst pick-up line may just just work on me.

anyhow, the news is rich today--as i say--and i feel like every sunday morning at least one article strikes a chord with me. so i think i will start a new habit of making a point to share them with you. the one i found today is a little obscure...it's titled, "the ultimate test kitchen". straight from left field, you may be thinking...but trust me, it's relatable. the guy who is featured, brad metzger, is a restaurant recruiter in santa monica. he built this incredible kitchen in his own home so that top chefs and prospective employers could come together in a professional yet still casual setting. genius. in a time when management positions are being cut, this guy decides to become the much needed middleman. what i admire about him is how he passed up opportunities that others would kill for because he knew what kind of a person he was and what he was after. he passed up the cornell university school of administration to move back to l.a. and wait tables. he closed his first deal while on the phone in the employee restroom of one of his restaurants. i just love reading these types of stories.

one of the best talks i have ever listened to.

be inspired.

(what i learned about myself after listening to this TED talk was that i still dream big like a child but i don't necessarily think my dreams are still within reach like a child would...maybe you will come up with your own epiphany)

all my single ladies

before heading out to watch the nba finals last night, i asked my roommate, "do you ever hit a certain age where you stop chugging beers before going to a bar to save money?" "probably not" she replied. case closed.

so we left the apartment in search of a drinking establishment downtown that could accommodate both ourselves and two other girls who we were meeting up with. not smart, seeing as it was game 7 in the city of los angeles...and only ten minutes until tip-off. but we managed to finagle a table in a place that was more swanky (18 dollars for a kobe burger) than sporty. i noticed the abundance of collared shirt and v-neck-wearing men as i surveyed the scene.

anyhow, the reason why i'm bringing up last night has nothing to do with the lakers or the celtics or the fact that i could probably brew and bottle coors light myself because it has zero taste. the reason has to do with my tendency to believe that every time i "go out" could be the night i meet my future husband. i don't know if it's just me--a romantic, single woman in her twenties--or the curse befallen onto all romantic, single women in their twenties, but i truly believe that every night out could be the night where i could meet the one. talk about going to bed disappointed! i totally agree with the saying, "you find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it" (just ask my mom or sister about the infamous prom dress shopping of 2005).

but i can't help myself!

and it's not like i even want to meet the one (or my next serious boyfriend) at a party, bar, or club. i see myself being somewhere like...the grocery store, fondling just about every avocado for just the right one. maybe he catches me already doing work on my bag full of grapes as i continue to shop. or maybe he eyes me as i pour myself a hefty sample of chocolate covered almonds from the candy isle. like i really need to try them. i used to try and conceal this behavior of mine, putting on a little show for the camera like, "ooh, what are these? i better try one before i make a purchase." now i just stare defiantly into the camera like, "come on, i dare you to come out and get me!" of course, all this talk is under the assumption that i haven't yet crossed paths with the man of my dreams. whether we are total strangers or not, i know i won't be changing my ways until there is a ring on my finger.

can anyone relate?

pretty powerful stuff

big things happened today.

a frantic mother thought that the blue backpack leaning beside the trashcan was suspitous and in need of the los angeles police department's attention. so she asked us, the ladies working the main table at the farmer's market, to call the police. we were much more concerned with stuffing our faces with kettle corn than attending to the drug-laden or bomb-laden blue backpack--so we dialed the number and let her talk to the police dispatcher herself. we'll all look back on this fine day and remember that it was the day we didn't lose our lives at the farmer's market. but a 7th grader did lose his backpack.

i said big things, plural, right? right.

so the other thing that happened today was me realizing that sometimes two great friends should just be that: friends. and nothing more. i've never gone into detail about my love life on this blog and i don't plan on starting now...but i'm just saying...when your heart and mind are in disagreement, listen to your gut. it can not only digest our food, but also our thoughts. pretty powerful stuff.

challenged

i'm...hired? thank you?

just got off the phone with the hiring manager at that cafe i was telling you about. he had told me last thursday (and again on friday when i called to re-iterate my burning desire to work for him) that he would call on saturday (two days ago). no word. so i held out for sunday. no word. then monday morning rears its ugly head. still nothing. so i decide to be pro-active and follow-up on my own, and what comes of it? i learn that yes, i can go ahead and attend the one hour new employee orientation and yes, i need to come in and fill out the paperwork before doing so. he never offers me the job--as one might expect--but rather casually mentions that i can work there.

seriously, what is up with management in this town?? this guy never called when he said he would...all three managers who interviewed me for that retail job didn't bother to call me back when they said they would...and the first restaurant i applied at never set up a time for an interview. is everyone just living under a different time zone than i am? are everybody's correspondence skills and sense of decency plain horse shit or am i the one with the problem?

at least i have one place in this town where i feel warm and accepted. the coffee bean & tea leaf on manhattan ave. the barista and i know eachother on a first-name basis. he gave me free coffee filters and one of those tiny spoons when i purchased my first pound of grounds. and there is always a seat for me. always. so even though i am broke and could definitely use all the change i can get my hands on for laundry, i dropped those fifty-five cents right in the tip jar. now i'm down four dollars and it isn't even eleven yet. luckily, this thursday marks the start of a new month of living here--which means nothing to you but two hundred dollars for me. you see, each month i receive two hundred dollars ($50/week) from my parents to help cover grocery expenses. and let me tell you, $50 per week couldn't feed a street cat.

okay, i exaggerate. but it's been a long time since i have used coupons. cut them out? yes, that's just plain fun! but actually using them? yah, i'm that girl. i'm also that girl who budgets her food expenses by writing out exactly what she needs in one column and how much that will cost in the other. just covering basic and highly necessary foods (bread, eggs, milk, yogurt, meat, etc.) puts we well at fifty dollars, which means that going out to eat means cutting into my savings, and i can kiss making anything special goodbye. french toast? forget about it...that requires buying a loaf of sourdough. homemade chocolate chip cookies? keep dreaming. that said, if you wish to donate any of the following items:

flour

sugar

baking soda

baking powder

vanilla extract

chocolate chips

wax paper

a coupon for any of the above

please contact me directly.

yours truly,

theboomeranger

you throw it and it comes back

the number of living, breathing boomerangers walking the streets today is disputed...

northwestern university's "medill report" claims that 33% of millenials (those born in the 80s and early 90s) reside with their parents. monster.com's number is 52%. the market research company, twentysomething inc., puts the number at 65%, and collegegrad.com asserts it's a whopping 80%. i pulled these numbers from an online article entitled mom, dad, i'm baaaaaack! (how appropriate!). not sure which is the most accurate, but it's safe to say that the boomeranger generation is a sizable segment of the population that should not be taken lightly.

in my case, my boomeranger sentencing lasted about one year before i packed my things up and moved out west. this physical separation from the nest has forced me to consider my own identity. i'm not a student, i am not employed, and i am no longer living with my parents. so what am i? a beach bum? one of my friends even questioned whether or not i can call myself a boomeranger any longer. well chris, here's my answer:

yes, i no longer live under my parent's roof, but that doesn't mean i have lost my voice as a member of the boomeranger generation. that doesn't mean i can wave my independence flag just yet. cell phone bill, car insurance and maintenance costs, anything relating to dental or medical costs, a grocery stipend (just a portion of how much i actually spend on food mind you)...these are all things that my parents still pay for. just because i moved out doesn't mean i can all of the sudden act like these financial dependencies do not exist. i am so thankful for their monetary support because i would be a street performer without it. now technically, a boomeranger currently lives with his or her parents, which i am not doing at this time...but i remind you that fundamental characteristic behind a boomerang is that you throw it and it comes back. it comes back. i cannot ignore the possibility that i could--at the closing of this unforgettable summer--move back home for whatever reason. the thought frightens me, but it is a reality. my own brother has moved back home, moved out, moved back home, moved out, moved back home, and is now moving out again. get the picture?

i started this blog as a way to chronicle my lifestyle with honesty and humor and to make connections with others who found themselves in a similar situation. theboomeranger began as a story about a girl living with her parents who had no car, no job, a very damaged sense of self-worth and identity, and a piece of paper that said she had graduated from one of the finest schools in the country. now, a year later, that same girl is trying to realize her dreams away from mommy and daddy. she has new lessons to learn the hard way, new adventures to share, and many new memories to make. i am eager to continue telling my story as i try to make it in life--or, more specifically, the city of los angeles.

turn the pages of my story with me :)

life's tough, get a helmet

how am i?

i'm not letting the fact that i didn't land that job i really wanted get to me. the managers "really loved me" but needed me to work over the weekends--which would pretty much kill my volleyball career. not a good fit. i was so close to that warm and fuzzy job security feeling, but once again, i find myself printing my resume off and re-writing my driver's license number on applications. but i'm not letting it get to me...last night, after receiving the disappointing news, i cracked open a beer and let myself be distracted by stephen strasburg's exceptional pitching arm. then i completed my dinner with too much kettle corn, the last of my deli-meat, and a couple spoonfuls of stouffer's stuffing that my roommate had prepared (what he doesn't know won't hurt him). i'm thinking that my diet really suffers when i try to not let things get to me...

...but can i just let it get to me for one second?! DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT!!! alright, i'm better now, probably because in my hand is an application for this quaint cafe that is looking to hire. the manager i met with said i could come by tomorrow and drop off my resume. that is a glimmer of hope, my friends, and i have to allow myself to hope for good things to come because lately this lifestyle has been overwhelming. both the volleyball aspect and the financial aspect have not been up to my standards. i just tell myself that this is the time where i have to keep my head up and push through--however painful and hopeless it may seem--because a sunnier forecast is just around the corner. can't drag my feet. can't feel sorry for myself. can't go another day without purchasing a loofa.

where's an older sibling when you need them!?

always always pick it up

you know what's funny?

when you're broke/strapped for cash/live in a two-person apartment in los angeles with four people, you really know the value of a quarter.

you know exactly what finding a quarter on the street means:

ten more minutes in the parking meter.

five more minutes for your clothes to dry.

1/7 of the way to a tall cup of coffee.

only 1,999 left and i have next month's rent covered.

one n done

"one n done," as they say in the beach volleyball world.

that is in reference to single elimination tournaments, like the one i played in this morning. all avp qualifiers are held on the thursday proceeding the main draw portion, which consists of all the professional players (who are so sick they no longer need to qualify to play) as well as those who qualify on thursday. so my partner and i lost our second game 26-24 to ultimately lose the match. always tough to lose a close game because you taste victory, it's gone, and then that bitter taste lingers in your mouth. but hey, we played in our very first qualifier and didn't get demolished by any means so i'd call it a good day.

although, i DID pass up the opportunity to shake phil dalhausser's (recipient of 2008 olympic gold medal in beach volleyball) hand because i was too focused on getting a dollar to add to our parking meter. absolutely ridiculous.

tomorrow. 8am. huntington beach. first avp qualifier match of my career begins.

preeeettyyyyy pumped!

mickey mouse saved my ass

have you ever sat on a yoga mat during an interview before?

yah, me neither. until 8 o'clock last night.

there i was with hopefully my future boss and two others who were interviewing at the same time. my first group interview for an athletic retail store. i gotta say, it was a fantastic process. she asked questions like, "what is your favorite way to sweat?" and we took turns giving our answers. we shared personal information like where we saw ourselves in five, ten years. i told them about how puking after running the 800 meter race when i was eight years old was one of the most satisfying moments of my life, and also about my more recent efforts to move a little farther from "type A" and a little closer to "type B" on a personality scale. and at the end, i taught them how to draw mickey mouse. apparently i did not receive the e-mail notifying me that i would be teaching the others a skill of mine and should prepare accordingly--mickey mouse saved my ass. it was like no interview i had ever experienced before...and as far as yoga poses go, i'm a lost puppy, so i stuck to sitting indian style all night.

so now i'm like an actress waiting for a callback. and even though i can't afford it, i'll walk over to the stationary store nearby and pick out a breathtaking, letter-pressed thank you card to give to the gal who interviewed me.

please PLEASE let me land this job! i promise i'll work on my yoga poses!!

haves and have nots

immediately after i wrote the eloquent three sentences in the post below, i closed my computer shut, tossed my ¾ full shitty latte in the trash (in true soap opera style), and stormed out of the coffee shop. i just couldn’t sit there and pretend that i wasn’t royally pissed off and hurt by the fact that my partner and i could not play in the tournament this weekend. so i walked. i walked back towards the apartment until i could feel my vulnerability rising with every step. better to let the ocean see me like this, i thought to myself. so i kicked off my sandals and perched myself against one of many volleyball posts situated on manhattan beach. just my self-pity and the pacific ocean.

if your beach body had walked by me right then you wouldn’t be able to tell that i was crying, but i would be a liar if i said that i didn’t take advantage of the “run to the beach and cry” cliché. what stopped the emotional bleeding was a phone call to my best friend. normal people call their best friends when they are upset, so i thought i would give it a try. i think normal people are on to something…either that or i just picked the right person to call. she told me that i could be upset today but tomorrow i could not. she told me that’s it’s okay that i feel crushed because, as twenty-somethings, it’s hard not to take everything that goes wrong as a personal blow since we are the ones now making the decisions. she said that the uneasiness i feel about not having a paycheck--even after only being here for a week--is a good thing because it shows i have the motivation and drive to make something of myself. she clarified that the people who just live their lives perfectly content being a wet rag are the losers and we are the winners. would you disagree with someone who was calling you a winner?

i’m really glad i called her because as i walked to the beach all i could think about was everything that i didn’t have. i don’t have a tournament to play in this weekend. i don’t have a job. i don’t have a doctor, or a dentist, or any kind of healthcare professional. i don’t have a loofa (you wouldn't be laughing if you knew the scrubbing effort it takes to remove remnants of the beach from your feet). i don’t even have sufficient lighting in my room—alright, let me try to be positive here…i have a burned out light bulb!

okay, my point is that my mind could only process the 'have nots' in my life, not the 'haves'. until i gave myself some time to calm down, i had forgotten about the beautiful beach i was sitting on, the incredible friends i have, the flowers that are sitting in gatorade bottles around the apartment…it's times like these that i turn to this song to remind me of all my 'haves' and shove aside the 'have nots':

...darius rucker, alright...