you can get with this, or you can get with that.

Hey remember that short piece o’ fiction I wrote last month for Breaking Up to a Beat???

Me neither. Luckily, it matters not that you remember it, only that you vote for it here: official voting spot. Integrity is not something I value, but if you do and would prefer to make your own “informed” decision by reading all the stories (wow, I bet you’re fun at parties), then please, by all means click right HERE to access the linked list.

The poll closes at precisely 11:59pm (EST) on Saturday, March 10th, so I guess I’m not sure why you are still dilly dallying. There is an Amazon gift card at stake!!!

The choice is yours (but probably, you should vote for this one).

Schoolhouse Rocks the Vote!: A Benefit for Roc...

This picture has a loose association with my post, but that hardly matters now that Conjunction Junction is stuck in your head.


all my life i’ve been searching for something . . .

If I had a nickel for every time my blog views spiked over 20, well, I’d have roughly 15 cents. I don’t post everyday or even every week, so the reason I check my Site Stats on the daily has nothing to do with any sort of unrealistic viral expectation. The reason I check is to see the wacky terms people plug into internet search engines. It works like this:

Curious about whether or not Odwalla smoothies can be frozen, you (internet crusader) google the following logical question, “can you freeze odwalla.” Lucky ducky, you happen upon my blog post about participating in just such an experimentation. Yaaayyy for you – frozen Odwalla for everyone!! What you don’t know is that WordPress site stats records your search term and reports it to me so that I can see how those who view my blog are finding it amongst all the interwebs’ clutter. Big Brother-ific!!

For those creepers who just choked on their Cheetos, there is no reporting of WHO views my blog or IP addresses or anything like that, so please, continue to lurk about in a troll-like manner. (Really, I mean that, you are at least half my viewing audience.)

Surprisingly, some people who happen upon my blog are actually looking for it. I have seen a few variations of “california vernacular” or “california curls” combined with my name or word press. However, the vast majority of those who come across my blog from an internet search were clearly not intending to find what they did. Below is a summarized version of the search terms that have led people to california vernacular since its conception.

Search intent: Comfy Animal-Themed Footwear

By far the most popular search that leads to my blog, those seeking owl slippers make up the lion share of my accidental readership. Whether it is just plain “owl slippers,” the more specific “ladies owl slippers” and “barn owl slippers,” or even the mysterious “night slipper,” it seems that posting a picture of my bird-inspired footwear has been the wisest of all marketing moves.

like, a lot of people give a hoot.

Search intent: Bring Me The Horizon merchandise

The second most searchable thing I ever wrote about was also a part of the owl slippers post (apparently, I was on some sort of unintentional roll that day). One should never underestimate how many tweens ferociously rack cyberspace looking for hoodies and t-shirts emblazoned with Bring Me The Horizon lyrics. If my blog sold owl slippers and BMTH gear instead of sarcasm and alliteration, I’d be a riotously rich writer.

Search intent: Urine

I wish I was making this up, but if you were to type, say, “dog pee,” “pissing on car,” or “pee anymore” into the ol’ search bar (never you mind WHY someone would be looking up those things), guess where you would end up?? Hopefully, my blog is at least on page 3 of this type of search.

Search intent: Porn

What a disappointment to those who searched for the following: “girls from New England,” “vip girls,” “pool whipping,” and “whipping tube.” I don’t pretend to understand why some of these terms are pornographic, it’s just a feeling I get. Imagine what kinds of searches will find my blog now that I have included this porn-titled section – awesome!

Search intent: WTF

Lastly, here are a few very special search terms that have defied all categorization and reason: “yellow ferrari bananaz license plate,” “kia green cars pie charts,” “dragon eating its tail,” . . . . . and the grand daddy of them all, brace yourselves . . . . “heather gos up to 120f dgree” (authentic typos included). Perhaps that one belongs in the porn category, too??

we will never sleep, ’cause sleep is for the weak.

Last night/this morning, I was up until 1:00 am.  If you are handy with the maths, then you have already surmised that 1:00 am PST is the equivalent of 4:00 am EST.  (If you are less than handy with the maths, don’t trouble yourself trying to figure it out.  It is a complex time zone conversion formula best left to eggheads.)  And for those of you who think that this boring post about bedtimes is going nowhere, never fear . . . I am illustrating a point.

OK, I’m going to admit something that will shock and possibly horrify the majority of you.  When I moved out here, I had every intention of staying on east coast time.  I know; I can hear you all now: “WHAT?!? Whyyyyy would someone want to do that??  It’s nonsensical, blasphemous to the idea of starting a new life, and (most importantly) weird – Where are our torches and pitchforks!?!”  Hold your ponies people, and allow a girl to explain . . .

The attachment to my former chunk of the world clock is part nostalgia, part biology, and part jealousy.  I don’t really like being on a different schedule than my family and friends.  So, east coasting it on the west side made me feel closer to them, and I may have been clinging to that like a security blanket (not that I have one of those . . . nor do I have a bear named Bloopy).  Then, of course, there is the simple science of my body acting how it is used to acting.  It was certainly going to take more than a week for my internal clock to recognize that noon is the new 3:00.  Going to bed early (read 9:00 pm) and getting up early (read 6:30 am), made me feel like a new version of my 2nd shift self.  I was up and at ’em (as my mother would say) instead of forcing myself out of bed before 11.  The only real problem with this schedule (aside from my early acceptance into AARP) was that I was missing out on my nighttime TV show line-ups.  Here is where the jealousy comes in . . . It’s bad enough the east coast watches everything first, but I was yawning so hard by 8:30 pm that the idea of staying up for Jersey Shore was more laughable than Mike actually “twinning.”  I guess part of me knew I would have to shape up, if not immediately, then definitely by September 6th (SOA).

Anyway, without my even noticing it, California has managed to sneakily seep into my circadian rhythm . . . and BAM all of the sudden I’m up until 1:00 am like a freakin’ night owl.

And in a totally unplanned and not at all awkward segue . . . look at these owl slippers I got downtown last night!!!

just the right amount of slipper for chilly San Diego nights.

Believe it or not, my night got even better than owl slippers.  The reason Nate and I were downtown was to attend a Bring Me The Horizon show (well, that was the reason I was there – Nate was there because I made him).  I refuse to stand at shows anymore because I am just too old for that shit, so I had purchased us seats in the balcony.  About a week ago, I received a phone call telling me that they had closed the balcony for the show but would be able to accommodate us “elsewhere.”  Once we got there and after the security guard GRILLED my Connecticut ID, we ended up in VIP seating.  No one blocking my view AND a special gold wristband?  Not too shabby for my first San Diego show.  The best part was that it took Nate and I all of 2 seconds to start acting like VIPs.  We would have been all-stars in that blue eyes/brown eyes social experiment.  With very little convincing, we knew we were leagues better than anyone else at that show (oozing superiority while making sure to apply just the right amount of condescending pity to all of our interactions with non-VIPs . . . it’s not their fault after all).

Kidding aside, I find it hard to keep up with all the changes my music scene has seen over the course of the last few years.  Remember when shows were full of kids in black hoodies?  Remember when a dude sporting a man-tank and a girl hair cut would have gotten “his” ass kicked?  Remember when I didn’t have to wear ear plugs to ensure that I could hear the next day??  Yeah, never mind my VIP mentality, I’m just old.

check out my arm hair!! i mean, special VIP wristband!!!

crazy lil peons going all bananas

Finally (and I mean that, this post has become epic in length), my stuff arrived (unscathed) which was surprising considering the condition of most of the boxes.  Seriously, they looked like multiple dinosaurs had taken multiples bites out of them while making this noise: RRAAAAWWWWRRRR!!!!!  So, here is our living room after many, many days of unpacking and cleaning – still need to get the art hung on the walls, but it sure is nice to have a place to sit.

extra long tablecloths are all the rage here on the west coast.