When did SF housing turn into such an asshole?

I always told myself that there'd be a point in my life where I'd earn the right not to worry about certain things.

These things include but are not limited to...
- how to find food when I'm hungry
- how to find clothes when I'm cold
- how to find a reasonable place to live
- how to stab a bitch if she's crazy

Surprisingly, the one that I currently find myself worrying about still - despite following all the rules of getting educated, getting a job, and avoiding jail - is finding a reasonable place to live.

Me: Hi, I was interested in a studio. What is your current rent?

Let me pause here for a moment. A studio? Are you fucking kidding me? When did that turn into a legitimate option?

Me: I told myself I'd never live in a studio.
Sister: Well, you also said you'd never live in San Francisco.

Burn. Okay, back to the story.

Leasing Manager: We have a studio open for $2500.
Me: What's the square footage on that?
LM: 380.
Me: You must be shitting me.
LM: It's a nice unit.
Me: Does it come with gold-plated appliances and a man servant?
LM: We do have nice appliances.
Me: And the man servant?
LM: No.

I thought I must be crazy. This can't be right. So of course, I had to find a second data point.

Me: Hi, do you have any studios available?
LM: We have a studio for $2550 and a one-bdrm for $2900.
Me: What are the square footages?
LM: Around 450 and 800.
Me: Oh, that one-bdrm is totally worth it.
LM: Yea, it really is.

Wait, did I just get trapped in a sales pitch? Did I really just say out loud that $2900 for a one-bdrm was a deal?!? Shit. I did.

LM: Do you want to take a look today?
Me: I can't today. It's a Thursday and I work.
LM: Oh, well, we can't guarantee that it'll still be available tomorrow.
Me: Well, if the only people who look at your units don't work on Thursday, then I'd like to meet them to learn how to earn enough income to pay this rent.
LM: Will you come by tomorrow?
Me: Yes.

All I know is that if I'm going to pay that kinda rent, it better come with a man servant.

Parental Guidance

One of the things I've come to appreciate more so lately than in my earlier years is the fact that my parents are in a loving and happy marriage. We've all heard of ACODs (Adult Children of Divorce) and how there's no point in defining a club around it because most of the adult population fall into that bucket - so I find it a privilege to have parents who act like they're still in the dating/honeymoon phase of their relationship.

As a side note, this also makes it very important for me to be able to joke around, be silly, and be completely myself around my significant other - and I have... to those who really spend real time with me... a very particular sense of humor.

Anyway, every time I spend time with my parents, 90% of it is spent laughing. Here are a few snippets from the weekend - I didn't include the adventures my mom and I had at the Korean spa. Let's just say from now on, every visit to LA will include a trip to the Korean spa.

Dad: Your mom put gas in the car.
Me: WHAT?! YOU DID??
Mom: Why is that so surprising?
Me: Because you NEVER put gas in the car.
Mom: It's not like I don't know how. I'm normally too busy.
Me: That's not true!
Mom: Your dad just puts gas in the car before I have a chance.
Me: Mmhmm.
Mom: And this one time I had people in the car. And the light turned on. And they pressured me to get gas.
Me: Well, Mom. It's been about 20 years so good for you.

Dad: Guys know right away whether or not he wants to marry a girl or just date her.
Mom: That's not true. Sometimes he needs to be shaken into it.
Dad: Have you even ever dated anyone? How do you know?
Mom: Sure, I have.
Dad: WHAT?!? You told me you never dated anyone before me!
Mom: You really think I entered into a marriage without ever having dated anyone before?
Dad: I've been deceived for over thirty years...
Mom: You're the one who almost married someone else before me.
Dad: I won't deny that, but at least I was honest about it!
Mom: Every girl understates how many guys she's dated to the guy she's going to marry.
Dad: Connie, my point is, I knew I was going to marry your mom immediately.
Me: Both of you have just blown my mind with these confessions...

Mom: We're not supposed to eat bread.
Me: What? Why not?
Mom: Because it has a bacteria that slowly kills us.
Me: Well, we can't survive without bread.
Mom: Normal people can't. But I'm special so I have to be careful what I eat.
Me: That's what we call a first world problem.
Dad: What does that mean?
Me: You know, third world is like Africa. First world is more developed.
Dad: What's second world?
Mom: We must live in the second world.
Me: NO, Mom. We do NOT live in the second world.

Mom: You want to eat this sweet potato?
Me: Okay. Wait, why did you boil it? It tastes better baked.
Mom: It's bad for you if it's baked.
Me: Isn't it the same thing??
Dad: Your Mom will do anything if someone says its healthier.
Me: If you give me a thousand dollars everyday, it'll make you healthier.
Dad: Oh, because that'll make us happy. And happiness releases endorphins?
Me: Sure. Let's go with that.
Mom: Fine, I'll bake your sweet potato. You and your strong opinion.

Me: I'm going to blog about you, Mom.
Mom: WHAT? On the Internet?!?
Me: Yes.
Mom: NO!
Me: But you're so funny.
Mom: What if my friends read it and make fun of me.
Me: Mom, I doubt your friends read my blog.
Mom: Honey! Connie's going to blog about me. About how I don't know how to put gas in the car.
Dad: I'm proud of you. You put gas in the car and made it onto Connie's blog.
Mom: [whisper] Actually, I didn't do it. Someone else in the car put gas in my car.
Me: OMG. You lied to Dad.
Mom: HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Let the Vegas countdown begin...

I spent the beginning of my morning writing emails to syndicate upcoming plans with my girlfriends - because when you know you have an insane work month ahead of you, it helps to know you're going to Vegas soon.

Here is the email I sent about aforementioned trip to Vegas.

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LADIES -

Shit is getting real. And I hope you have a juice cleanse scheduled at some point during the next 3 weeks because we're going to be practically naked for the entire weekend. It's a rule, not a suggestion.

FLIGHTS: C and I are flying in on Friday night and out early on Sunday - if we make our flights, which we have an 80% chance of doing...

RIDES FROM LA: The LA girls are orchestrating cars from LA so I put T in charge of that lead. I saw some emails back-n-forth so I'm assuming it's under control.

HOTELS: [J - ACTION REQUIRED] - update us on if this is taken care of; otherwise, I will delegate to the next in command (aka C)

CLUBS: [L - ACTION REQUIRED] - hope your husband doesn't disappoint. I request XS and EBC - I am okay with paying money for either, just as long as it's not a ton because I'm poor now that I work at a start-up.

MONEY: If you all pay for stuff along the way, don't be shy and let me know so that I can make sure we collect and evenly distribute. This is so that no one gets mad when I eat all the cheetos - someone buy cheetos.

Confirm that you're coming because at this point, I'm assuming all of you are.

P.S. This weekend is also S's XXX birthday celebration. Dare I say... CHIPPENDALES!??!? YES!!!

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Here are some of the responses I got:

D: I LOVE FLAMING HOT CHEETOS

S: You're not poor.

The Bullshit of San Francisco

Let me tell you the myth that is presumed about San Francisco. You know, the one about how all the single ladies in the world should flock to San Francisco because the men are o'plenty. I'll tell you right now. It's complete bullshit.

T: Are you single?
Me: Yea.
T: You're going to love San Francisco. There are so many dudes.

A: Are you single?
Me: Yea.
A: You're going to hate San Francisco. There are so many dudes.

Two months in and I'm now able to say with certainty, all that they say about this city, no matter what you hear, is a lie.

I've never believed in the statistics game. So when people told me the boy:girl ratio would work in my favor, I wasn't interested. After all, there might be more fish in the sea, but who cares if they're all guppies? I'm looking for a whale shark.

But what people fail to realize is that once you whittle down to the real players in the game, it's actually a pretty level playing field.

I'll break it down for you.

STEP 1 - Determining the female players 
Pretty straight forward. If you're dumb, ugly, or unemployed (in order of importance), you are automatically disqualified. You can be the only girl in San Francisco. You will still remain single. All qualifying females, welcome to the Hunger Games.

STEP 2 - Determining the male players
A bit of a filter. There are three types of guys in San Francisco.

Type: Tech Nerd
You will actually never encounter this type. The last interaction he had with a female was when his mom cut off the umbilical cord. And this probably happened much too late after birth.

Type: Stage 5 Clinger
He spotted you as soon as you made your debut in the city. He immediately tried to monopolize all your time and cockblock every potential male headed in your direction. He might be an okay guy, but the fact that he won't leave you the fuck alone makes you want to throw dead kittens at him. Run, don't walk, to your nearest exit.

Type: The Douchebag
He's refreshingly clever, sarcastically charming, and probably one of those assholes who contributed to the increased rent prices in this overly inflated city. You want to hate him, but you can't because he's already given you multiple examples of how he just may be the male version of you. And God forbid you ever end up hating yourself.

Not surprisingly, the Douchebag is the only real candidate. But as I mentioned before, after all is said and done, you might be facing an equal ratio. Or, dare I say, be at a disadvantage. And given how good these guys are at doing back-of-the-envelope math, I think they've already figured this out.

Which brings me to my point. These whale sharks aren't hungry. and they're not going to bite unless the bait is good. I've spent a lot of time with these resident douchebags and it's helped me realized the truth to my theory.

Me: Nowadays, guys think they're being really forward when they send a girl a FB message.
J: I used to do that. But then I realized it's not that hard for me to get girls.

The alcohol dilemma

I was going to write a post about my move to San Francisco, but the only parts of it that were worth mentioning led to what this post is really about. Just know that I'm alive and appreciate the efforts of a certain few to make me less suicidal.

Anyway, as I was riding the bus to work today (I know, they make you ride buses in San Francisco; they assure you it's a privilege versus evidence that you should've tried harder in school.), I thought back to a story I heard over the weekend.

A few weeks ago, I went to a party and met a bunch of new people. That's literally all I could say about the night because I vaguely recall anything specific minus some bombass Korean food at 2am.

The story I heard was that I had carried these lengthy conversations, had been slightly confrontational, and at times, a bit shamelessly forward. (I'm leaving it vague intentionally.) I was shocked. I don't remember any of that. And sadly, I couldn't deny that it could've happened.

Then I thought back to another night where again, nothing. Can't remember a thing. I remember eating a bunch of red velvet cake pops and that's about it. I couldn't tell you who I met and what I said. Nope.

Why? When did this start happening? I'm pretty sure this is new.

Then it clicked.

Whiskey.

The thing is, my whiskey drinking is recent. I believe that just like the brands you transition into over time, alcohol is the same way. You know, Kate Spade in high school, LV in college, Gucci post-college, Chanel post-business school, Hermes post-business school job. Right? Yes.

So to remind myself of what happens to me when I drink, here is a cheat sheet. It may be different for each person, so give it a thought yourself.

Tequila (21-23)
Newfound courage to dance like a Korean popstar and party till 5am. Taking shots of this is your rite of passage into alcoholism. It's a gateway drink. Clean buzz, no hangover, but once you fight with this bitch, you guys will never be friends again.

Rum and other weird shit (24)
A warp into a land where you're always on vacation, and everyone is your friend so you come home with a bunch of pictures with random people. Super sweet, high calorie sugar bombs. It's okay though because you're young and have the metabolism of a 6-year-old and have this firm belief that you'll always be skinny.

Vodka (25-29)
Three things can happen: (1) aggro-angry, will fight you and your dumbass boyfriend, crazy, (2) super emotional, life is so hard, ugly cry, or (3) really chill, in tact memory, and a good time. It's a risky gamble, but you always start the night hoping for the best. Easy to drink, low calorie. After awhile, your high tolerance and the fact that it tastes like nothing makes the whole experience boring.

Whiskey (30+)
Non-stop verbal diarrhea with this uncanny ability to shamelessly say things that may be true, but you have no idea because you can't remember what you said. Black out, or brown out if you had someone drink half your drinks for you. As you drink more of it, you learn that the good stuff actually taste much different than the mediocre stuff - which encourages you to keep drinking, and thus this has less chance of getting boring.

Dilemma, my friends. I'm starting to only want to drink whiskey. So what do I do? Hope that blacked out Connie will be responsible enough to not thoroughly embarrass herself so that sober Connie doesn't have to sit and wonder if she should shutdown her Facebook?

To be determined.

Because I hate Valentine's Day

In honor of the impending holiday for stupid people in love, I'll write a few notes on what I've learned over the past year on how you know you're probably with the wrong person. These are all anecdotal so don't get all pissy if it applies to you. I probably wouldn't date you anyway.

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He's skinnier than you
Unless you're a total gigantoid whale-sized of a girl, at which point you probably shouldn't have a list at all. But anyway, without going into too much detail, there will be a time and place when this matters - mostly in situations where lifting you will be beneficial. That's all I'll say about that.

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He doesn't appreciate a good cat gif
Here's my favorite one.

No rhyme or reason. It always makes me laugh.

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He doesn't know who Nelson Mandela was
T: Yea, and he didn't seem that bright.
Me: How could you tell?
T: He didn't know who Nelson Mandela was?
Me: Stop.
T: I said, "You know, the 'I have a dream' guy"... just to be funny. And he said, "Oh, that sounds familiar."
Me: STOP.
T: So he didn't seem that bright.
Me: T, he was retarded.

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He doesn't drink whiskey
At a certain point in my life, I became a whiskey drinker. And with that habit came an undeniable pretentiousness that I actually appreciate in fellow whiskey drinkers.

Two years ago...
C: I drink whiskey neat.
Me: ... the fuck?
C: What's wrong with that?
Me: Nothing... if you're an old white Republican.

Last weekend...
C: What do you want me to bring?
Me: A bottle of whiskey.
C: Seriously?
Me: Bring the good stuff. I'm not fucking around.

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He doesn't drink
I don't trust people who don't drink. I feel like they're afraid the truth might come out when they're drunk. Which means they're constantly lying. Which means they can go ahead and leave my life.

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There are a whole bunch more, but I didn't want to start sounding preachy. Oh, and I disliked Valentine's Day even when I was in a relationship. So this has nothing to do with that. That's the story and I'm sticking to it.

A fish out of water...

C: Have a good Day 2 tomorrow.
Me: Thanks.
C: Try not to terrify those tech nerds.
Me: I don't terrify anybody.
C: Yes, you do.

Yesterday was my first day at my new gig. To be honest, it felt like college all over again. Except unlike college, I cared very little about taking notes. I was also the old kid in class. And I was very familiar with how to bend rules.

Kid: You got a PC? I didn't know that was an option.
Me: It wasn't. I wrote in the comment box that I wanted a PC.
Kid: Is that okay?
Me: I learned at an early age that you should get what you want.

I was in a room full of freshly graduated software programmers and engineers. They were all toting around these TimBuk2 satchels and wearing fleece vests - which apparently is the uniform for geeks. I brought my LV bag because I was trying to be more conservative, but that backfired pretty quickly. 

Teacher: Does anyone have any questions?
Me: I can't connect to the wireless internet.
Seatmate: Did you click on the wireless switch?
Me: Do I have a "retard" sticker on my forehead?
 SM: Did you click on anything?
Me: This is not a user error. Your questions are offensive.

I had my computer confiscated only a few hours after I received it. Let's just leave it at that. The point is, I didn't have a computer.

Me: I need a computer.
Tech: Which one do you have now?
Me: I don't have one.
Tech: Okay, which one do you want?
Me: What is the sexiest PC you have available?
Tech: Hmm... the X1 Carbon, but people don't normally get those.
Me: That's the one I want.

I convinced the Tech guy to add an "extremely urgent" sticker on my purchase order so hopefully I'll get my new toy today. I also figured out how to order my own stuff. Despite the constant slew of confirmation emails, something tells me that I'm not following normal protocol. Let's see how many of the tablets I just ordered actually arrive.

Teacher: Click on additional skills you'd like to build.
Me: What are some examples?
Teacher: The page will show you some that cater to your needs.
Me: Mine says, "Diversity Awareness."
Seatmate: Mine doesn't.
Me: My page is being an asshole. I have great diversity awareness.
SM: Maybe you should add "Self Awareness."
Me: Maybe you should add "Ability to keep your opinion to yourself."

I also have to say that I've impressed myself with my abilities to be social over the past two days by trekking my ass to SF at night... though at this point, I'm pretty sure my seatmate is tired of waking me up every ten minutes. It just solidified the fact that living in SF is the right choice for me. Special thanks to Willis for responding to be desperate cries for help.

Still alive and moving the rest of the way to the Bay in 30 days! Congratulate me.