Despite often saying that breakfast is my least favorite meal of the day (lunch is fyi), lately I have been enamored by brunch. The fact that it only occurs on a weekend and is relatively cheap.

So today, I went to another brunch place (after a fantastic time at the Zenith Tea Room) at the Ugly Duckling Gourmet Edibles, located in the Northside of Pittsburgh. It was very quaint and that an old fashioned feel. We were sat in a small dining room with elegant decorations. I had heard about it from an online article. It was $14 for an entree, hot drink (tea, cider, or chocolate), cold drink (apple, orange, or tomato), a side, and a dessert. Everything was quite good. I had a stuffed french toast with berries and cream cheese oozing out between the slices. Other people had a crepe, a wrap and an egg cup. I thought the french toast was quite good, especially compared to the dryness of the french toast I had at the Zenith Tea Room. Then my side was a yogurt parfait which was a perfect blend of vanilla yogurt, fresh strawberry slices, and granola. The server had served it in a tall glass which added to the antiquity of the place. The orange juice was oddly very juicy…compared to other kinds that I had that were not fresh. And of course the rose tea. Twinnings always has that special flavor. And the dessert. Wendy had a pineapple ice cream, which seemed to better fit the category of pineapple sorbet and Carol had a decadent raspberry and chocolate sorbet. I, like every time, would die in happiness. I had a fabulous creme brulee accented with raspberries and Inma had a less than perfect cheesecake, which I thought could be slightly creamier.

But sadly, the business is going to close in less than 2 weeks. The day before, I had fretted about the fact that nobody picked up the phone and that the business was probably so popular that I couldn\’t get a table. It turned out that…there was nobody there when we arrived. The tables were empty until almost 15 minutes before we left, when a small group of older adults arrived.

Alas, the first, only, last time I shall experience thee perfect brunch!

Tonight, I suddenly wanted to eat Indian. So I dragged Polo along to India Garden, one of the best Indian restaurants in Pittsburgh, located in Oakland. By the time we got there, we were all sweaty from hiking in the humid weather. Fortunately, it was air-conditioned inside.

I ordered a rose lassi and strangely enough, it was so filling that after finishing one half, I felt so full. My main dish arrived and the server said, \”Chicken Tikka Masala.\” I was startled for a moment and asked another server to come back to tell me what the dish was. He simply looked at my bowl and said \”chicken tikka masala.\”

I nodded and said, \”Ok, that\’s not what I ordered. I ordered the chicken shanidfljfldjfldkaaaka.\”

Ok, so i didn\’t know how to prounouce the dish I ordered. Then the server seemed a little annoyed as he went over and bought over a menu. I had trouble looking at what the menu said…and had to lean way over to read. I finally said number 63. Then another server came along and said, \”that looks like chicken tikka masala.\” Yet another server came and watched, who later added (helpfully) \”Both 63 and 66 are the same.\”

I felt slightly embrassed now, but I wanted to know what my dish was before I dived into it. The server ordered me to see what was on the bottom of the bowl. \”Dig beneath and see if there are bell peppers.\”

So I reluctantly showed him that there were no bell peppers. He leaned back and said with satisfaction, \”That is what you ordered. He wouldn\’t have known the difference between the two dishes.\”

I mumbled my thanks.

When I got up today, I happened to look back on the bed and there was a dead spider under where I had been sleeping. Don\’t those insects know that I tend to steal blankets often and that only the courageous should share a bed with me?

I am a natural romantic.

Meaning, I like to do things because they seem symbolic. Because they seem so meaningful. And I have a tendency to rationalize a wrong decision as a…way to learn, an experience.

For the longest time at Berkeley, I had dreamed of seeing how far I could go on a bus. As in, I would take a random line, get off, get another bus, just keep traveling until I felt like turning around. The randomness appealed to me.

Because I had no class today, I was very bored. Knowing that nobody else was really around, I decided to check out Southside Works on my own. I took the 61 downtown, then figured out to take the 51c to Southside. Unfortunately, it started turning on 20th from Carson, so I immediately got off at the next stop. I walked several blocks down to the Southside Works. Unfortunately, it was very barren. I went into the Forever 21 and it was so empty compared to its California\’s counterparts. But on the way back..oh that was interesting. I decided that I would take any bus that seemed to go downtown.

The first bus that came was the 54c and it seemed familiar. I remember taking the 54c from the strip, so it must be right. So laying faith in that the bus would get me back to Oakland, I started reading the new cookbook I purchased. Then suddenly I looked up and realized I was…somewhere else. There were rundown houses around me and not to be \”racist\”, there seemed to be more people from the working class on the bus. I felt a slight increase of panic in myself, but I decided to lay faith in the bus line. The bus kept winding around these deteriotating neighborhoods. Suddenly, the bus driver called out, \”Last stop.\”

A young Asian girl with her forever 21 bag and ipod earphones wandering around Pittsburgh in the evening? Yeah. I asked the bus driver how I could get back to Squirrel Hill. He muttered something about how I was on the wrong bus and I reluctantly got off. I was at a T station called South Hills Junction. I nearly swore to myself, thinking how I ended up in the wrong side of Pittsburgh. But the romantic in myself thought great experience! see what\’s around here to explore!. Needless to say, there was nothing except barren hills.

In my beginning sulky mood, I went to the T stop and studied the map. I figured out which side of the platform I should wait on and plopped myself on the bench, continuing to listen to music on my ipod. Music made everything better. For the next 10 minutes, I paced around in anxiety, wondering if I will be stranded in the middle of Pittsburgh. And finally the T came and I got off at the Steel Center building, remembering that I took the T with Helen last year at that stop. I left the station and then started wandering the streets. Note, this is Pittsburgh so the downtown was nearly barren. I felt out of place, with my \”trendy\” necklace, black capris, Reef flip flops as I wandered up and down Grant Street. Eventually, I spotted the Kaufmann\’s. But the buses going to Squirrel Hill weren\’t on Forbes, because that\’s where I initially got off. I wandered around, feeling the masculine i know where i am, i don\’t want to ask for directions grow. And within minutes, I found the appropriate stop. I stumbled home at my stop, tripping over UPitt students who wore too much perfume and on a big pothole in the sidewalk outside my house.

Then I made fried rice as my stomach was grumbling in irritation.

Today I participated in a water fitness class named \”Aqua at both ends\” at the CMU swimming pool. Normally, I would be intimidated by such classes, especially since it wasn\’t the first one. But this morning, I headed down to the athletic desk, gave them a $30 check, received a group exercise card, and went to the pool area. No anxiety. Not like that time where I walked into a class, spent about a few minutes glancing around the room, then turned around and left.

The instructor singled me out once I was in the class because it was obvious that it was my first time and basically coached me individually throughout the class. The other students in the class were…shall I say…pleasantly plump ladies leaning toward middle age. I should have known.

I wasn\’t impressed though. We did marching, stepping and jogging in the water. The instructor yelled, \”Getting your heart rate up!\” I barely felt like I was being any active as I was just jumping up and down in the water. I felt somewhat short, because I could barely stand without floating away.

The only interesting part was when we used \”floating weights\”, which surprisingly was very difficult. We did bicep curls and lifts. Good thing too because my arms are probably the weakest muscles.

The likelihood of me returning is very slim. Where is my kickboxing class!

One of the things I have hated is dealing with financial issues. In particular, those with roommates/housemates. Statiscally, money is one the greatest causes of arguments and the ends of relationships.

Money is a sign of power in some way. I may see those trivial dollars as mine, but perhaps they really belong to you. And because of this very struggle of power, we can\’t ever see on the same plane.

So what I am dealing with now is how to manage the \”damage\” we are going to receive if everyone moves out of this house in May. I had one person from the management company come and take a look. They took a glance and said that we would definitely be charged for carpet cleaning. Around $150. She didn\’t do a good job of walking through the house, so screw that.

Let me explain my situation. This is the third year that this house would be rented out. There have been a number of changes in roommates. This house was one of those pass down from housemate to housemate. So the previous roommates (approximately 7 people not including their significant others) have pretty much received their full security deposit back except for two of them. Is it bad to go back and contact all 7 telling them they\’ll have to pay for damages that cannot be indicated? Of course, it was someone\’s fault for do a thorough walkthrough when everyone left. But hey, isn\’t it really unfair that no matter what will happen the carpet will be charged for cleaning?! Like seriously, how can anyone keep the carpet spotless? fdjlsdfjlsdf

The last place I lived in Berkeley, the management was anal and charged my roommate and myself a significant portion of our rent to cover carpet cleaning, blinds cleaning, dusting, oven cleaning, bathroom cleaning…despite the fact that we had cleaned…a lot. However, the first apartment I lived at, the landlord was a slacker and didn\’t do a walkthrough when we moved out. There were several points of damage there, yet he gave the three of us our full security deposit.

I am more apt to just sacrifice. To have less trouble. I do insist on things, but to deal with bad relationships is worse than losing money.

At the end of these things, is it better to stress over a missing (hypothetical) trivial $400 for months (perhaps in court) or just let it go? Better things in life than to whine about money, right? It seems to be the principle, but unlike most people, I always keep at least $1000 in my bank account for unexpected charges and hidden fees like these.

I am always under this philosophy that if I am generous, then good things will come. Is it true?

I often say that I don\’t believe in karma, but my act of generosity often contradicts that. I buy people\’s dinner or whatever because I know that this is the building of a relationship. If I am nice to someone, then they will be nice to me. A part of myself is sacrificed for the hope that the future will be better.

Today is…OMG?!

Omg, it\’s Sunday! And tomorrow is Monday! And I have no class tomorrow!

Even as emotionless as it seems, I would rather not attach myself to a memory. The best piece of advice I have ever received was \”move on\”. More so, we should learn from our mistakes and remember those who we lost every day. Why do we necessarily have to emphasize one single day for something with so much impact? It\’s my same philosophy with Valentine\’s Day. Why treat her any more special that day if you can\’t do it the same for the other 364 days of the year?

Anyway. Back to the regularly scheduled rants.

The other day, my housemate commented how she doesn\’t understand why people wear headphones on the bus. \”And nobody ever talks to anyone!\” she exclaimed.

My first thought was that nobody talks to anybody on a bus. I have ridden subways and buses. A number of different kinds of public transportation. Why do we have to put ourselves out there to socialize on the every day commute? Being crammed like sardines in the winter is enough on a bus, trying to talk to people is too much for me.

Then she continued on about how she doesn\’t understand why people wear headphones while they walk.

I do. Today, I finally left my room (out of frustration at my troubling powerbook) and walked the 20 minutes to school with the ipod headphones in my ears. Listening to music makes life all brighter. The way I see it, it\’s like a music video where the climax appears as I am crossing the street to a brand new world. Only music can do that to me. Namely, Brit pop like Keane.

B told me that I should upgrade to wordpress this weekend. But I don\’t think I have the heart to do so. I still like the way b2 looks despite the fact that I know I can skin wordpress and all that good stuff. I am just lazy.

Every so often, I come across something here and I think wow, that\’s soooo Pittsburgh. The people here are strangely different from the Bay Area. Namely, they are \”overly nice\”.

So the other day, I get an e-mail from one of the many HCI department secretaries. She wrote, \”Jennifer, you have a very important-looking fax waiting for you in the mail room.\” I finish up my Internet stuff and rush down to the mail room, wondering what it could be. I have never received a fax, let alone a real important-looking letter. I see a fax addressed from an unfamiliar firm called Wienand & Bagin, Attourneys At Law. The fax reads:

PLEASE DELIVER IMMEDIATELY

[signed]

When I first read it, I thought AFRICAN MONEY SCAM. So I was about to recycle the paper in disappointment. Then I looked at the amount of money again. Suddenly I remembered, it was the check that my new housemate had given me. I had given it back to her because she wasn\’t supposed to write it to me. So I fish out my cellphone. Oddly enough there was a voicemail there, because I had forgotten to turn on my ringer. I listened to the voicemail which was a male voice telling me the exact same content as in the fax. Then suddenly I see an e-mail from the same person with the same content.

I call the number listed in the fax and asked for Mr. Bagin. The secretary seems reluctant to transfer me (I don\’t sound like a client?!) but eventually I reach him. I tell him about my information and it turns out that my housemate accidentally dropped the check outside our house. D\’oh. I give Mr. Bagin my information and thank him tremendously. I also ask him how he found all my information. He said something along the lines of \”you seem like a very important person\”.

His wife eventually drops off the check later. But how often am I impressed by good stalking?

I love my powerbook, but why did it have a 3 hour fit where it spent pinwheeling and mocking me. Eris, don\’t do that, even if you\’re named after the goddess of chaos! I had started writing a nice long 10 paragraph explanation (on my \”reliable\” pc desktop) of what was going wrong to macosx.com technical support when suddenly after I was putting the finishing touches (the words \”thank you so much\”), suddenly Eris started working again.

Because I am very well-trained in almost all things computer-related, I normally would never stoop down to the blanket statement of \”i hate computers\” or worse yet \”computers hate me\”. Yet, I almost lowered myself to that level today.

But then again, isn\’t it about do unto others as you would want them to do unto to you? Maybe I should have treated my powerbook better…