Humidity makes quite a difference...

So here I am in the great state of Utah. I got in last night, finishing my 3 day road trip from DC. Long, yes. Fun, absolutely! I was a bit worried about this road trip because I was comatose most of the time when I made the trip out to DC with my mom in January. I'm so proud of myself because I did all the driving. Through the severe weather of Maryland (it was pretty intense) to the not so severe weather of the middle states.

Did you know that America is BEAUTIFUL? I think I take it for granted. But I'm so glad that I had this chance to see part of the country that I'd never had before.

But I definitely have to say that I prefer the dryness of the west to the humidity of the east. Why are you moving to Taiwan? you may ask. Well, let's just say it's not for the weather.

Packing...

...sucks!

I'm currently packing for two trips. Above are the clothes/shoes I'm wanting to take to Taiwan. I don't think it will fit, or weight under the 50 lbs limit enforced by the airline companies. I don't leave for another 2 weeks, but this Saturday I'm road tripping out to Utah were I am catching my plane to Taiwan. So my suitcases for Taiwan have to be packed, but there are still some things I'm going to want to use in the next 2 weeks.

Tricky...very tricky.

Why does this happen to me?

So today I decided to get my roots done, so I hopped on over to Tyson's Corner where a Paul Mitchell Academy is housed (love it!). Unfortunately this lovely place is in the Mall, where there are tons and tons and tons and tons of kiosks with annoying people waiting to pounce on you. If you know me, I avoid salespeople and kiosk attendants like the plague. But for some reason the people at the kiosks in Tyson's Corner are unusually aggressive.

A week or so ago, my friend Mindy showed me the Mall. Even though I live only 15 minutes away from Virginia's largest mall, and that I've lived here for over a month, I still hadn't ventured that far west. Sad I know. Anyways, as we were walking by one of the kiosks, I got stuck. I hesitated and they pounced. It was horrible, but I managed to get away without buying anything. Yet, I was still impressed with the product, but it was WAY too expensive.

Flash to this morning. I wasn't so lucky. I passed by the same kiosk as last time, and even walked as far away from them as possible, and pretended to look in shop windows. But then, a incredibly gorgeous accent accosted me. Note to self: never make eye contact with kiosk attendants. Especially if they are highly attractive men from Italy. I was able to resist last time, but today I wasn't so lucky. He was so hot--though incredibly cheesy. Who says, Excuse my sexy accent? I know, right? But, he did give me a major discount. Major discount.

I remember a few years back when one of my roommates fell prey to a kiosk attendant selling dead sea salts scrubs. She was furious when she got home, and felt tricked. The injustice! Now I totally know how she felt!

Has this happened to anyone else? Is anyone else a sucker for accents, which get them into trouble? I truly hope I'm not the only one!

I live in the Hood Yo!

So this video has been passed around the inner circles of the DC/Arlington elite. It's hilarious! I got it from a co-worker, and then from my old intern supervisor in an email. Enjoy!

jste češka?

So I'm supposedly tri-lingual. Or rather, I'm fluent in one (English), studied another (French), and somewhat speak yet another (Czech). All in all, the last two languages are beautiful, at least to me, but not as useful as say Russian or Spanish, or even Mandarin for that matter. After having studied and lived in France for two months, and then serving a mission in the Czech Republic for a year and a half, you would think that my language skills would be impressive. But, unfortunately, I haven't had much use for either one of them.

Until now. French may not be a hot commodity on the West Coast, but on the East, it sure is. There are so many francophony here, and I work with a lot of them. There are a handful of guys from Algeria, Senegal, Cote d'Ivoire, etc that communicate in French. I have to admit that I haven't been brave enough to use the French that I do know, but who's to say that I won't?

I've now graduated to the level of cashier, and have gotten pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. I get to strike up random conversations with people that come through my lines. Some of them flop:

Me: Did you find everything you wanted today?
Boring customer: Yes.
Me: Do you have any fun plans for tonight?
BC: No, not really.

Ok then...

But some of them end up being incredibly cool. Like this one lady with a very distinctive Eastern European accent.

Me: Did you find everything you wanted today?
Lovely, Brilliant customer: Yes, and so much more. I came in for this beer, but ended up getting so much more...

She went on and on and somehow I got the impression that she was Czech. So randomly I asked, "Jste češka?" (are you Czech?)

She excitedly replied, "Ano!!! Jsem!"

I was flabbergasted. This is the first random Czech citizen I've run into the entire time I've been back. All other Czechs I've come in contact with I've already known. We carried on an entire conversation in Czech ("You speak so well," she said. "Oh, you're too kind," I said). We spoke about the weather, my mission, where she's from, what she's doing here, what I'm doing here, etc. It was wonderful! I was so excited/shocked/nervous (my language skills are definitely rusty) that I was tripping over my r's and ř's.

I now have a new Czech friend, though I don't know her name. And now that I'm not a missionary I can tykat (use the informal) and not feel guilty about it.

Oh, bliss!

To Card or Not to Card...

Life at Trader Joe's is never dull. When I first started people thought I was a bit strange for not drinking the free, delicious coffee or tasting the wine. I don't smoke or cuss like a sailor. One day during a much beloved ten-minute break with one of my co-workers, church came up. She's Catholic, and I'm LDS. A look of realization flitted across her face, "Oh, now it makes so much more sense!"

That being said, I'm a bit clueless when it comes to certain items in our store--mainly our colossal wine section. The "wine guys" always encourage me to try the wine, which I politely decline. The other day one of them asked if I didn't drink for religious reasons or by choice. "Both," I said. He then asked if I was Muslim. Um, no. Mormon.

I'm glad that people are starting to know that I am a member the church, because it makes things far less awkward.

But back to the clueless part. Last night was my first night working with the closing crew. They are an awesome group of guys. About 15 til 10pm we had a huddle outside the front entrance of the store to discuss how the store is running, what can be improved, and various other announcements. Of the 15 or so people there, all but 3 of us lit up. I was shocked, to say the least. And it was really hard for me to concentrate on what was being said. My eyes were stinging, and I was hoping that I didn't end up smelling like I'd smoked the cancer sticks.

Anyways, the main topic of discussion was an incident that had occurred earlier that evening. I woman had gone to pay for some alcohol and was asked for her ID. She "obviously" looked like she was over 35 (could it be from smoking?), but she couldn't produce an ID. So a big debate ensued. Should we sell alcohol to someone who cannot produce an ID, even though they may look like they are older? Or is that breaking some sort of law? Our manager told us that we cannot sell alcohol to someone who can't identify themselves. Enough said. That makes perfect sense right?

Nope, guess again. One of the wine guys gets all up in a huff (because he had helped this woman pick out the wine) saying that it was wrong for us not to sell her alcohol. "Show me the law!" he passionately cried. He was incredibly upset and believed that this customer will never come back to Trader Joe's because she was embarrassed and that she should never had been put in that situation. He went as far to say that the cashier who carded her was stupid and that we shouldn't card people who look like they're in their 30s. This man was so argumentative that he was practically yelling at our manager. Emotions were escalating. Bad move. Then everyone else starting chiming in about how the wine guy was wrong and started talking about sting operations and being sent to prison, and all the intricacies of carding. And I'm pretty sure some of them were talking from personal experience while in their youth.

Twenty minutes later, when everyone had their nicotine fix (and three of us had gotten the black lung), when the carding situation was finally settled (we have every right to card a customer and to refuse to sell them alcohol if they don't have their ID) I got to go home. I never would have imagined that I would ever participate in a conversation concerning the proper techniques and etiquette for carding. Like I said, never a dull moment.

And might I add, that I don't mind being clueless, at least in that regard. It makes life easier.

Ma Matka!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

I LOVE YOU!