"I'm a Big Kid Now" or "Why Not To Get The Comcast Self Installation Kit"

For those of you hiding under a rock, I recently moved into a studio in San Francisco. I got the call a few weeks ago that I scored the place and I literally screamed out loud. It's been a little bit of a challenge finding an apartment that was both in my budget and in the Marina, but I somehow managed to pull it off.

A little about the place: My next door neighbor is practically the Exploratorium (how awesome is that?!), hardwood floors, laundry in the building, a walk-in closet and... wait for it... a parking spot. Cue angelic music. This place is everything I hoped to find and more. It's always quiet, I feel completely safe, and most importantly, I'm a short walk (or bus ride if I'm lazy) away from my friends.

I'm going on my second week here and I love it more and more everyday. I'm finally settled and it's beginning to feel more like home. After a slight tug-of-war with Comcast, I finally have tv, internet, and a phone line so I can buzz people into my building (debatably my favorite part of living in San Francisco).

Move-in costs in the City can be pretty phenomenal. One place I looked at wanted what some people in the Central Valley pay for a down payment on a home. Luckily, I was able to get in here with more reasonable costs. But since I spent all of my money on a deposit and first month's rent, I decided to opt for Comcast's "self-installation kit." When I got the box in the mail that was large enough to sleep in, I began to panic. Luckily (or unluckily, however you want to look at it) they sent me the wrong order so they scheduled a technician to install everything for free. After two calls to Comcast, one missed appointment and 3 hours this morning with Ali, the Comcast technician, I'm finally up and running.

I like to describe my place as "quirky." You have to be under 150 pounds to even fit through my foyer (yes, I have a foyer) and the sound of my shower often mimics the screaming mandrake root on Harry Potter. But I can lay in bed, eating ice cream and watching The Bachelorette; I can blast the Dixie Chicks while I make a Trader Joe's dinner; and I can leave my dishes in the sink for 3 days and no one will care. This place isn't perfect. But it's perfect for me.

Just when you thought our living situation couldn't get any weirder...

I can summarize my Saturday in three words: Baseball, beers, bars. Consequently I had a rather unfavorable Sunday morning, however, for more reasons than just my hangover.

Tim only lives 6 blocks away but he stays over at Ashley, Dave and Sofia's a close second to me. "At 2am, that's a rough 6 blocks." I wake up and see him on the loveseat. Knowing neither of us are going anywhere anytime soon, I turn on Dumb & Dumber. Two hours and 4 glasses of water later, Tim and I have the standard 10-minute discussion on who is going to venture out to Safeway for eggs and bacon. After a coin toss, rock paper scissors, some pretty unconvincing arguments and having it closer to noon than 8am, we both decided we'd venture out to the Italian Deli on Chestnut for lunch. Being the diva I am, I required a shower first.

So fresh and so clean, I immediately grab my towel and wrapped it around me. While still in the shower, wringing out my hair, the door between Ashley and Dave's room and the bathroom flies open in full force. There stands Dave. Naked.

My initial reactions in chronological order are as follows:
1. Gag reflex
2. Rubbing my eyes to make it go away
3. Scream
4. More gagging

Dave bolted out of the bathroom and before I can even get my upchuck reflex under control says from behind the door, "If you like what you see, speak up."

Getting dressed with the speed of light, I head back to the living room. Wanting to put it all out there (no pun intended) I stop at the entry way, look Tim in the eye and say, "I just saw Dave naked." He stares back at me then says, "Well... what did you think??"

With zombie-like demeanor I put my PJs away in the closet and head back to the couch. In a last ditch effort to avoid Post Traumatic Stress Disorder I sit down and try to watch tv. Before I knew it, Tracy Chapman starts blaring and it's coming from the bedroom. Again, the door flies open (cringe) and out comes Ashley in nothing but a blue towel dancing the jig to "Talkin' Bout A Revolution."

The four of us, plus Jarrett who came over shortly after, eventually ended up heading to the deli for lunch. I did not order salami.

Inspire Me

Lately I have been a little down in the dumps about my wardrobe. I consistently feel like I need to be adding to my closet to make sure I don't become a fashion robot, wearing the same thing week after week after week. Further, it's become more and more difficult to get creative with the pieces I already own since I sleep on someone's couch and have limited closet/suitcase space (my living on a couch is a blog subject for a different day). In an effort to overcome this slump, I've been reading a lot of blogs, articles, and anything I can get my hands on to try and help me tame the wild beast that is my wardrobe.

A few months ago I posted a status on my Facebook asking people for any interesting blog suggestions. After wading through all of the smart ass comments, I found a diamond in the rough. My friend Christine suggested I check out Kendi Everyday, a fashion blog about utilizing only the items in your closet and remixing them for 30 days. I was intrigued.

Not only does Kendi manage to mix and match the cutest outfits ever, but she is a phenomenal writer who keeps me in stitches with her daily posts. Are you sensing a girl crush?? Totally have one. For those of you wifeys out there, Kendi also has another blog about she and her husband's relationship called Better Off Wed, which is just as funny if you're not married and you're a single gal like myself. Again, with the girl crush.

Having been in San Francisco for an entire three months now, I have found fashion inspiration in plain sight: takin' it to the street. There are people from all different cultures and walks of life here, so why not use them to influence your daily fashion choices? I wouldn't recommend trying to scope out inspiration from the crackheads in the Tenderloin, but the Mission hipsters and Marina preps are a good start.

One of my interests on StumbleUpon just so happens to be fashion (if you haven't "Stumbled" yet, give it a whirl. I highly recommend it). Every now and then I'll come across shopping or fashion websites that catch my eye for a minute or two before I move on. But today I came across a blog that simply captivated me. The genius behind this gem of a blog decided to draw inspiration from animated Disney characters. They had me at "Disney." I was enthralled with all of the fabulous outfits they were able to produce from not only the Disney Princesses, but the Villains too. Amongst my favorites were Cinderella, Belle and Ariel. But my heart melted for Sleeping Beauty. Tell me you wouldn't want to rock every single one of those outfits?? Absolutely fabulous.

I feel like I've uncracked a whole new world of inspiration (Did you get the Aladdin reference? How witty am I?!). Ladies, and gents if any read my blog, moral of the story is to keep your eyes and mind open at all times. Inspiration is lurking around every corner.

Hot Child In The City

I've been in San Francisco since March and I still feel like I haven't seen a fraction of what the City has to offer. I really wanted to utilize the extended part of my weekend to maximize my San Francisco exposure. We shall call this extended weekend my first "Exploriday."

On Sunday, we ventured out to the Treasure Island Flea Market. A $3 entry fee gets you access to vendors selling everything from feather hair extensions to 1950's circle-dial telephones. I only walked away with a bag of kettle corn (which is gone, by the way) but Ashley scored herself a nice used baseball glove ($25) and a pair of the raddest white cowboy boots on earth for a measly $30. Jealous.

Since we made our rounds at the flea market early and the weather was phenomenally gorgeous, we decided to get some authentic Mexican food in the Mission at La Taqueria. Named on of the top 20 places in the Mission to eat, it did not disappoint. It may have been one of the best tacos I've ever had. Sorry grandma. Filled to the brim with kettle corn, carnitas tacos and an ice cold Corona, we headed back to camp and watched a house-record 3 Netflix movies until bed. I'm now not only convinced the real Paul McCartney is dead, but I'm convinced Courtney Love killed Kurt Cobain. I need to stop watching documentaries. I digress.

Today I woke up and hit the gym with Ash. She and Dave had tickets to the A's game, so it was just me, myself and I. I knew I wanted to head down Fillmore and check out some of the shops in Pac Heights, so I hopped on the ol' deuce-deuce (the 22 bus) and headed on my way. A little nervous to be by myself in the City, my mind was soon at ease when I spotted my boyfriend on the bus. And when I say "boyfriend," I mean Tim Lincecum. And when I say "spotted," I mean there was a newspaper article about him hanging up. It took all my might not to vandalize the by-line to read, "Lincecum flirts with Carrie Campos." But again... I digress.

Shopping was a huge success. Not only did I manage to buy my sister a birthday present (yeah, I know it was a month ago, but I haven't seen her in a while so lay off me), but I gained the confidence to go out and explore on my own. Head held high, I decided to walk home. I took the picture featured above on my way. The weather was too nice to sit inside for the rest of the day so I called Tim and asked him to meet me for some food/drinks and watch the Giant's game. We decided to head out to the Embarcadero, only to find it was a ghost town. Thankfully, Gordon Biersch was open and happy hour was just beginning. Awesome. Dave and Ashley met us there after the game and after a few more apps and drinks, we were off to pick up a bed at Ashley's co-worker's house. The mattress didn't fly off of Tim's roof going up/down Fillmore, so we can bank this as yet another success.

Not ready to end the day, we headed out to Moscone Field to break in Ashley's new baseball glove. While Dave and Ash played catch, I practiced my fastball on Tim (yes, in flats). At first glance, I thought a homeless man was walking toward me on the mound. Turns out he was just a weirdo who wanted to pitch to Tim. I happily obliged. After about 10 minutes of this guy almost pegging Tim in the head, he left the field with his shopping cart full of beer and told us to have a "Happy Fucking Memorial Day."

We all took turns at bat and, not to toot my own horn but, I was pretty good. I even told Dave my softball team in 5th grade almost made it to the Junior World Series (total lie). He believed me (total sucker). We played until sundown and walked back to the apartment. How "Sandlot" of us.

I remember moving to San Luis and exploring on my own. The only problem is, there was only so much in San Luis to explore. Not here. There are museums, and fields, and galleries, and food (lots and lots of food). There is a never-ending plethera of events, places and people to see. I learned today that exploring a city can be fun, challenging and more often than not, memorable. I can't wait to see what my next Exploriday brings.

Get It Right, Get It Tight

I know everyone has their own taste in workout music. In high school, my friend Jenna would listen to Celine Dion's "A Decade of Song" before basketball games. To each his own. But the other day I was working on my fitness and I had an epiphany: I had perfected my workout mix.

For a long time I'd find myself skipping tracks, which would consequently get me out of my workout groove, especially while running. What I noticed is that there was a direct correlation between what song was on my iPod and how hard I was pushing myself. This needed to change and my playlist was the key.

With the consistent release of new songs, I am constantly adding to my playlist. I find this both encourages me and excites me to head to the gym. Another tool I utilize is my "shuffle" button. I put my mix on shuffle to spice things up a bit and find, somehow, my iPod knows exactly when to play Kanye's "Stronger" just before I get the urge to push the emergency stop button on the treadmill.

For those of you wondering what gets my blood pumping and my legs moving, I have decided to share a few crucial tracks on my workout playlist with you. Happy running, everyone.

1. Uprising, Muse
2. Cry For You, September
3. Dynamite, Taio Cruz
4. Rock That Body, Black Eyed Peas
5. Because The Night, Cascada
6. When Love Takes Over (Remix), David Guetta & Kelly Rowland
7. Stronger, Kanye West
8. 3, Britney Spears
9. On The Floor, Jennifer Lopez
10. Blow, Ke$ha
11. S&M, Rihanna
12. Evacuate the Dancefloor, Cascada
13. Boom Boom Guetta (Boom Boom Pow Remix), Black Eyed Peas & David Guetta
14. No Sleep Til Brooklyn, Beastie Boys
15. Say It Right, Nelly Furtado
16. Getting Over You, David Guetta with Fergie and Chris Willis
17. Right Above It, Lil Wayne & Drake
18. Make It Rain, Fat Joe
19. I Like It, Enrique Iglesias
20. Can't Be Tamed, Miley Cyrus

Just another day...

Having a job at Genentech has its perks; one being the charter bus that totes me to and from work everyday. The only downside of the Genetech bus system is that my route home only comes once an hour. If I don't make the 4:30 bus, I'm waiting until 5:30 for the next one. I've never had much problems making it onto the bus... that is, until today.

The ride back to the Marina is approximately 45 minutes. Considering I have a bladder the size of a peanut, I try and hit up the ladies room before I take off. When I returned to my desk after today's daily lavatory ritual, my boss was waiting for me. He was in meeting all day and wanted to discuss some tasks before his busy schedule tomorrow. With a plastered grin I tried to seem interested, but found my eyes darting back and forth between he and my clock, like I was watching a tennis match, to make sure I could catch the bus. After wrapping things up, I had 5 minutes until the bus arrived. I didn't have time to properly stow anything away so I grabbed my tupperware from lunch and headed out. Like a gazelle, I flew by my co-workers' cubicles, leaving behind only the voice of my goodbyes.

I decided I better skedaddle since I was cutting it pretty close, so I picked up the tempo as I hopped down a few flights of stairs. Now into a brisk walk, I headed out of the building and around the corner where I could get my first glimpse of the bus stop. The bus was already there. Shit. Without hesitation, I threw my body into a full-on sprint. Approximately 12 steps in, I felt my bare right foot hit the ground. My shoe must have flown off. Behind me. Shit! In an effort to stop the momentum of my body, my right foot dragged across the cement, leaving a nice scuff across a number of my newly pedicured toe nails. Double shit!

No stranger to hop scotch, I launched myself on only my left foot to my abandoned shoe, slipped it on and was rolling in no time. Not wanting another aerodynamic mishap, I was running and shuffling at the same time. I was ruffling.

Hoping some kind soul would see me ruffling across campus and tell the driver to hold the bus, I started waiving my arm, tupperware in hand, in a panicked frenzy. When I finally made it to the bus doors, I apologized to the driver and thanked him profusely for waiting for me. He looked a little puzzled, glanced at his watch and said, "Oh you had plenty of time. We're not leaving for a few more minutes."

Things I've learned in San Francisco so far...

1. Never underestimate the acceleration of a MUNI bus.

2. When someone graciously offers you their couch, you are obligated to participate in unfavorable activities (6 a.m. is not a fun time to work out, Ashley).

3. If you meet new people, refrain from telling them about your blog to avoid being called by your pen name.

4. Despite hundreds of restaurants in the City, people still seem to congregate at Subway for lunch.

5. There is a lighting conspiracy in bars where they make it seemingly light enough to read the name of the drink on the menu, but too dark to read the price.

6. "Clipper Card" is used in your daily vocabulary just as much as "hello" and "thank you."

7. To avoid awkward conversation, don't tell people you're not a Giants fan.

8. Rumor has it the Safeway in the Marina turns into a nightclub after 7 p.m.

9. The Golden Gate isn't a bad backdrop for morning runs.

10. Hand sanitizer has never been a better investment.

I Wanna See Your Peacock!

Back in 2008 I was asked through a friend of a friend of a friend to help serve at a Christmas party. Always happy to earn an extra buck or two, I happily obliged. Three years and multiple parties later, I created quite a relationship with Tom and even helped work at his daughter Christine's wedding.

Right before moving out of

San Luis Obispo, I worked my last Christmas party. It was at this event that Tom told me about how Christine had begun selling her handmade headbands online. On the outside I was calm and collected, but on the inside I was like a fat kid in a candy shop... stoked. Christine has amazing style and I couldn't wait to see her products.

Before I left the party, Christine gave me her Etsy seller name (Benny Peacock) and told me she would have some new things up in the next few weeks. Fast forward to the end of December and I made my first, but certainly not my last, purchase.

I immediately fell in love with the "Dana - Velvet Mauve Headband with Vintage Gold Button Flowers." I have worn this headband several times and always get the best compliments. I also purchased Benny Peacock's "Alice - Satin Creme Flower with Pearl Button." I'm saving this hair clip to debut at my friend Kiersten's wedding in July (I'm a planner).

Christine, aka Benny Peacock, not only has amazing handmade pieces, but they are all one-of-a-kind. When wearing my Benny Peacock merchandise I never have to worry about running into anyone with my same accessories. Don't you just love that?? And the icing on the cake... all of Benny Peacock's products are reasonably priced and shipped in a timely manner. LOVE LOVE LOVE!

I continue to stalk the Benny Peacock Etsy page multiple times a week because Christine is constantly creating more and more beautiful things to share with us. You can find Benny Peacock on Esty by clicking here or "Like" Benny Peacock Accessories on Facebook for updates on the newest products, and sometimes some awesome discounts. Happy shopping! :)

My name is Carrie, and I'm a clothes hoarder.

I have been back home for 3 weeks now and I still have yet to put away all of my crap. I would like to blame laziness for this organizational disaster, but I can't. I don't have a lot of "things" but rather a lot of clothes.

I have been designated a 3-drawer dresser and essentially a quarter of a closet to pack away all of my digs. If you know me and are aware of my shopping addiction, cue hysterical laughter. Using my mom's suggested "a little at a time" approach, I have been slowly but surely hanging, folding and packing away. I find my fingers crossed every time I try to wedge something new into my closet.

The other day on my weekly Target run, I found myself, as I usually do, in the book aisle. I saw Lauren Conrad had a new style book and decided to take a peek. I don't particularly like Lauren Conrad and have only seen The Hills a handful of times (due to my protest of MTV programming), but I love love love reading other people's opinions on what style means to them. Like flipping through The National Enquirer, out of sheer curiosity I picked up the book with no intention of buying it.... Until I saw Chapter 4: "Mastering your closet." At the bargain price of $13, I left Target with hope and, for lack of a better term, my new organizational Bible.

I read through the first few chapters with ease. "Style" has parallel similarities to "The Extra Half an Inch" by Victoria Beckham and both of Nina Garcia's books, "The Little Black Book of Style" and "The One Hundred," all of which I love. I found comfort in knowing that it took Lauren Conrad three days, a professional organizer, a stylist and several friends to help tackle her closet. She says to try on every single piece of clothing you own. If it doesn't fit right, is uncomfortable or simply can't see yourself wearing it anymore, toss it.

She also suggests tossing clothes in a number of different piles: give away, Goodwill, sell, garbage, and storage (put away a bag of clothes under your bed for 6 months. If you don't remember what's in there, you don't need it). These piles seemed a little too complicated for me. I usually toss my clothes in two piles: garbage and my "Jenny" pile. Jenny is my friend from San Luis Obispo who rarely buys clothes for herself, but rather takes peoples hand-me-downs (and looks better in them then I ever did). Giving my clothes to Jenny also helps cure the emotional attachment I sometimes have to pieces of clothing.

So here I am in my fashionable gray sweats and "I Heart NY" tee shirt, about to tackle the monster that is my wardrobe. I'm going to mix Lauren's ideas with my mom's approach and pray that this project is done before my 30th birthday. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it...

Watch out Bay Area... here I come.

I don't like telling people that I'm currently "unemployed." In times like these I feel like being unemployed reflects a negative connotation. It allows people to jump to their own conclusions that I was either fired or am unhirable. I am neither. So for the sake of this post, and my sanity, I will refer to myself as being "in between jobs."

I spent my first week of being in between jobs scooting around Raleigh, North Carolina (I had a wonderful time, thanks for asking!). So this week I'm back to reality and on the ol' job hunt. Most of the jobs I have applied for thus far have been recommended to me by friends and family who have openings at their companies. Thankfully when you have someone vouching for you, your resume doesn't disappear into the abyss. For this, I have already had a phone interview.

I'm not exactly sure of what type of job I am looking for. I have a public relations degree with professional marketing and legal experience. As odd as this may sound, my diverse resume opens up a plethera of opportunities for me. Not only do I have the creativity that comes from a marketing background, but I also think strategically and critically because of my experience working with attorneys. On top of that, I have had the pleasure of working first-hand with company executives and attorneys (which I loved), allowing me to consider and qualify for personal assistant positions.

I may not be 100% certain about what type of job that I want, but I am sure of one thing: I will be fantastic at whatever it is I am hired for. I don't mean for this post to sound like a horn-tooting fest, but I know that a combination of my work ethic with an enthusiasm to learn creates an ideal work environment that any employer would be delighted to have in the workplace. Fingers crossed!

Golden Globes

As do most people, I mainly watch award shows to critique the dresses. At this year's Golden Globes, I found myself un-wooed, if you will, at most of the fashion choices. Women like Angelina Jolie, Sophia Vergara and Mila Kunis were all beautiful as expected. But there were only a few ensembles that really stuck with me.

In a sea of one-shouldered and sleeved dresses, Carrie Underwood's champagne colored, strapless Badgley Mischka really hit the mark for me. I thought it was simple, elegant and classic. Plus, I like sparkles. What can I say?! A+.

It may have been Claire Danes' Golden Globe that she carried as an accessory that won me over, but her salmon colored dress with the plunging back simply wowed me. I thought the modern gown mixed with such a vibrant color was uber chic. Bravo.

A well deserved win, Natalie Portman took home the Globe for Best Actress in Black Swan. However, her dress really threw me for a curve ball. I absolutely despise red and pink together in an outfit. It sits way up there with "jean on jean." This isn't 1986 where Hollywood is lacking sophisticated maternity wear. Always the optimistic, I will be holding out hope for her Academy Award gown (and win).

And what was with J. Lo (or is it Jennifer Lopez? Or Jenny from the Block? Or Jennifer Anthony?) and that god-awful white number she pulled out? Did she steal that dress from the set of Selena? Don't even get me started...

I can't wait to watch the Fashion Police tomorrow and see the critic's choices compared to my very important opinions. What did you guys think?

Small Town USA

As I map things out thus far, on the cusp of my 26th birthday I believe I will be entering the sixth chapter of my life.

Chapter 1: Kindergarten
Chapter 2: Junior High
Chapter 3: High School
Chapter 4: College
Chapter 5: Oh crap... I'm an adult. Now what?
Chapter 6: Gilroy Bound

Yeah, I said it. I'm moving home. That's right. Gilroy. Garlic-capital-of-the-world, home. No, I didn't lose my job or have some crazy sob story, a stalker, or anything cool. I just wanted to move home. So I am. I missed my friends and family and started resenting the 2 hour drive each way for visits. That's not the way I wanted to live my life. And more importantly I realized that San Luis wasn't making me happy.

People have called me crazy saying that San Luis Obispo is, and I quote, "The happiest place on earth." That's no lie. A few months ago there was even an article posted on Yahoo! about how it was literally named one of the happiest places on earth to live. Don't get me wrong. San Luis is a phenomenal city. But I'd like to see the scientific evidence behind this research. Minimally, I'd like to see the survey questions.

What people don't see when they look at San Luis is the lack of jobs, fair pay, and reasonable living. Not to mention the lack of diversity. I can throw a rock and hit 17 bleached blonds in jean skirts and Cal Poly tanks. That's not to say that I won't miss it here. San Luis Obispo has one of the cutest downtowns I have ever seen, I'm going to yearn daily for a Turkey California from High Street Deli and a Cowboy Cookie, and the wines here are better than anything I've ever tasted.

Additionally, I have San Luis Obispo to thank for my first real full-time jobs, without which I may never have met some of the most amazing and brilliant young people I've had the pleasure of working with. Also, if it weren't for San Luis, I might never have met Ms. Chavez and the whole nightmare-ish crew she calls friends.

Not many people can say that they are moving back in with their parents under good circumstances. But I can. Nothing will make me happier than being surrounded by my great parents, the friends I love, my insane sisters, my even more insane niece and nephew and a boxer that is the most loyal pet I may ever have the pleasure of cuddling with. Gilroy is no San Luis, but these are my roots and this is what I love...

127 Hours

My Monday night ritual of noodles and a $5 movie with my friend Jenny has not only become entertaining, but rather educating. This week we intended on seeing Black Swan. But as it always happens, it sold out right when we approached the ticket counter. We were left to see 127 Hours or to walk home in shame. "We should have eaten those damn noodles faster!" With our heads held high we dismissed the latter and headed into the theater. What's better than James Franco for two hours anyway? I guess Ryan Gosling for two hours, but I digress...

The movie wasn't quite like I had expected, but it was excellent. I would describe it as a mix of "Into the Wild" meets "Requiem for a Dream" with a touch of "Silence of the Lambs." Weird, I know. But the sheer thought of this movie being a true story made me quiver in my NorthFace (literally... I was wearing my NorthFace jacket. How festive am I?!). It was incredible how this man could have kept himself alive for as long as he did. A true outdoors-man indeed.

What I liked: I loved how interesting the cinematography was. The movie made you feel like you were down in a crevice in the middle of nowhere with this poor man, understanding all of his hallucinations and sharing every let down and triumph along the way. I also liked that I have the same exact Nalgene bottle as he had in the movie. Stay classy.

What I didn't like: The close up of the ants crawling all over him. Ick. I almost gagged a few times at parts that I'd rather not speak of.

Kudos to Danny Boyle for writing/directing the movie and making two hours of James Franco sitting next to a rock intriguing. This movie definitely makes James Franco Academy Award-worthy. Two thumbs way up.