Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Single Gal's New Year's Eve

For unknown reasons, I have always romanticized New Year's Eve. The promise of a new beginning, fireworks, the chance and likely undelivered hope of a kiss. And most importantly, the excuse to purchase a new dress. If you know me at all, or have snooped in my closet, then you realize that I love dresses. Back in my southern women's college days, my dress purchases were beginning to border on addict levels. These days I have accept my dowdy spinster ways and the fact that veterinarians who inspect animal facilities in west Texas cannot show up in gowns and heels. In the words of my supportive but painfully honest mother, “Why do you need all those dresses when you sit alone on Friday nights.”

With a few notable exceptions, my New Year's Eve of late have been wildly underwhelming. In fact, I believe I went to bed at 11:30 pm last year just to spite the whole holiday I secretly dream about. With my good friends spread throughout the East Coast, and more importantly in serious relationships (let's face it New Year's in your late 20s is a couple's holiday) I don't have any plans. This year is no exception; unless I am magically gifted with a social life in the next 36 hours, I will spend another year flipping channels and going to bed 10 minutes before the new year. Thankfully, basic cable seems to understand my single girl woahs and has supplied with various all day marathons to occupy my sad excuse for a life. The real question is, do I spend New Year's Eve watching Without a Trace, NCIS, or CSI? Social recommendations are always accepted!

Happy New Year! Don't worry I have way more single gal tales for 2011.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Stuff Single People Don't Like

I am a huge fan of "Stuff white people like." Every time I read it, I can think of a half a dozen people (usually me as well) who fall into the topic of the day. My vet school roommate and I used to get endless laughs out of the website and last Christmas, when my best friend gave me the peel a day calender, well let's just say it made my 2010.

So anyone who knows me, knows that I am a chronic, habitual single gal. Even during a three-year period of time, when I thought I wasn't single and was off stupidly planning a dream life with a man, well come to find out I was even single then. For whatever reasons, men are not interested in me beyond the study partner or awesomely asexual cousin-esc relationship. The point of this is not for you to feel sorry for me (though I know all of you smug relationship people can't help it). The point is, in a world that has a Noah's ark mentality, certain things drive me insane. So I came up with the idea of weekly installments of "Stuff Single People Don't Like". Let's face it, we have all been single at some point (or in my case all points) and everyone can probably related.

So here is this week's thoughts. Jewelry Store TV Commercials- especially anything that Kay Jewelers produces. What is worse than a completely unrealistic commercial with diamonds and over the top professions of love- oh I know how about a Christmas Jewelry Store commercial. The following commercial is so bad, I usually frantically search for the remote to change the channel. If I can't get to the remote in time, I have a visceral reaction to the commercial that involves the following" OH GAG" (loudly pronounced), an eye roll, and a dry heave noise.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltA50HKyM14

Seriously Kay???? "It's ok, I am right here [dramatic pause] and I always will be." "Promise to never let go." I gagged just typing it. Give her diamonds in the design that captures the love found in each others arms. Thank you Kay for stabbing me, twisting the knife, and then for added measure pouring caustic substances in the wound.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Old, but looks young





In three short weeks, I will turn 27. Twenty-seven is deeply rooted middle/late twenties. I am staring at thirty and it seems alarmingly close. If you had told me in high school that at 27 I would be chronically single, living in an area with no trees and extremely little to do, and that I had managed to find the only career in veterinary medicine in which I was universally hated, why I would most likely have developed a substance abuse problem. Oh course, if I had developed a substance abuse problem, I would have ended up here... but that was not the point of this musing.

So, despite getting close to the end of my twenties journey, I look like I just started it. I look young, really young. Yes, yes I imagine that I will get great thrills out of looking ten years longer when I am in forties, but for now it is a source of much annoyance. I appear to most people to fall into the range of 20-22. No amount of hairstyles, clothing choices, or makeup can alter this. Don't believe me check out the sample pictures above (high school senior photos and a recent one). The best recent example is as follows.

The other week I was in the hopping town of Searcy, Arkansas at the post office. In typical Cara fashion, I had been suckered into something I had no real interest in doing, but here is the secret kids- I can't say no. I mean I can't; it borders on a pathological problem. Need a kidney, just ask me; want someone to carry your child, sure why not. Anyway, this task happened to be that I am on my college's reunion giving committee. I was mailing off some paperwork for said job and it was in a large manilla envelope addressed to Sweet Briar College. The postman asked the usual questions, "Want to insure this for $100, priority overnight delivery, etc." My reply, "Oh no, it's nothing important." The postman looks down and the envelope looks back up at me and says, "But this is your future!" I maybe a Doctor in her late twenties, but it is refreshing to know that everyone thinks I am 17!!! Perhaps that is why I am still single, men just assume that dating me would be like an express ticket to jail.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Best Quote on the Job So far

My new job is an eye-opener. There is a whole weird of weird/wonderful animals and people doing odd things. I have been to petting zoos, zoos, aquariums, breeders and seen animals I have never heard of. I have questioned many things, like is there really a big demand for African porcipines and why does everyone have camels. But the best quote I have had so far was when I was staring at some small breed of monkey I had never heard of (and still can't remember their name) and the client told me "You should move your face back, they haven't had breakfast yet". Ahhh, the adventures continue.

Airplane travel

It's funny, two months ago, I was like most Americans, the occasional traveler. In fact, I was perfect to my new knickname- boring vanilla. I flew in planes every couple of years, mostly for a quick visit with friends. Starting this job, I feel like a jet setter. I have an entire wallet devoted to frequent flyer cards and hotel rewards cards. I have the security line at the airport down to a science (though I still need a better carry-on bag). In three weeks, I was in each continential time zone and visited 10 airports. The actual flights are so interesting. I usually end up next to sociable people. It't interesting to me how for a few hours you can develop a friendship with a complete stranger. You usually never say your names, but you know their careers, their family, where they live, and where they are going. When they find out I am a vet (either from asking me what I do, or peering over my shoulder as I try to hard to catch up on my JAVMA magazines) they usually launch into tails of all the animals they have owned since childhood. I recently seem to be sitting next to business men somehow related to the medical field. I had a good long talk with a man who sells CT machines and how he just came back from a vet clinic where he set one up for them. I have sat next to men who sell the science behind semen (and one of them seemed interested in a relationship with me (in his fifties)... he even emailed me later). I even helped a drug company saleswoman with her powerpoint presentation. All these people, who you trade snacks with and stories about your life. Yet a few hours later, you both say good bye and change planes, never to be involved in their life again.

Monday, August 23, 2010

"Direct" Flight to Amarillo

Well I just spent over 9 hours on one Southwest plane that made 3 stops along the way on my direct flight. On the long leg from Tampa to Austin, I sat next to/babysat an uncompanied minor. 8 fixing on 9 yr old Erin (though later she said her name was Isabella but every one called her Erin (a statement, among the many others I found suspect). At first it was fun; she was a chatty, precious girl who told me about her trip to Tampa to see her uncle. School was starting tomorrow and she would be in third grade. Things turned awkward when she preceeded to tell me her dad died on Christmas eve. I struggled to find the best words to tell her. Then she asked to me tons of questions: do I have kids, am I a teenager, can I touch your hair, do you have poison ivy on your face (no kid that is a badly covered zit and trust be in 7 years you will get them too). Things got out of control by her second coca-cola. Sugar and caffeine and children should never mix. She was starting to jump up and down and I was trying my absolute best to entertain her with my palm pilot game and hang man. She then took over control of my ipod and I searched with much dismay as to what in my musical selection is appropriate for an 8 year old. We decided the Fray. Then the boy in front of her gave her his swedish fish and the sugar levels sky rocketed. I had to keep her from constantly calling the flight attendant button, throwing candy at the people in front of us, and frequently pulling my whole body slam into the window to look out at what was always Austin.

I finally sent the little one off. I have to tell you in all my past years of babysitting, she took the cake and I didn't even get paid. What was worse was she had similiar colored hair to me so I think a lot of patrons thought she was my child and I was the worst mother in the world.

The next flight I sat next to a nice business man with enough he drink tickets to supply the whole plane. He gave me a few and I took him up on it. A glass of Chardonney helped calm my frazzled Erin/Isabella nerves.

The last flight found me sitting next to two older men in the semen selection business. They were so excited I was a vet. I had to read several papers of theirs and listen to all the lastest and greatest technology in terms of male/female sperm selection. I shared my drink coupons with them and the unmarried older man kept hugging me and saying we would make a great couple. They invited me to dinner at Fridays by their hotel their treat. Thankfully, I had an excuse as my mentor was picking me up. Not that the thought of old men touching me and talking to me about sperm over dinner wasn't appealing.

Now I am all checked in to my hotel- complete with a bathroom no one cleaned. Hooray for other peoples' hair ( a deep phobia of mine) and a full hotel. I will just pretend they changed the sheets.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Airport Adventures

Apparently to TSA agents there is something terribly sinister looking about a 5'6" incredibly pale red head. I am constantly getting pulled aside for full body pat downs or computer checks (what exactly are they checking for when they wipe my laptop?). Today, however, I had a new level of TSA excitement when I got to experience the full body scanner. I was ushered into a clear plastic bubble, told to stand feet spread apart with my hand in the air to cover my face. Then this machine twirls 360 around me. In chatting with the TSA agent after, I learned no worries- even though someone sees you naked they cover your face up and the person looking at you isn't near by. So some random person in Denver International Airport has a nice image of me. FUN TIMES!

Call Me a Blog Hypocrite

So, I have always looked a little down on blogs. They seemed too "Stuff White People Like". I always thought it seemed very presumptuous to think that anyone would really care what I have to say. Who would want to read my rambles. But multiple people have asked me to set up a blog, because randomly unbelievably amusing crap happens to me all the time. So to all of you who love to hear about my misadventure with parasites, near death run-ins and other good Cherry bad luck- I dedicate this blog to you!