Thy name is Legion.

You would not think it something to brag about, but I am very adept at being able to shop at and leave Safeway stores with none or few plastic bags. Today I give up my bragging rites and join the ranks of those who can only shake a fist at the sky and curse the brainless masses of this world.

Let me reminisce to you my past conquests against the environment-hating landfill hog that is Safeway...

There was the time that I went against the checker who after soullessly asking, "Paper or plastic?" to me (a rare question which socked and heartened me at first) it became immediately apparent that even she was a mindless drone simply going through the motions. After my, "Paper please." response she begin reaching for the plastic bags in a robotic manor. My first attempt at saying, "Paper!" louder did not deter her, so in the nick of time I leaned over the counter and in an even louder voice yelled, "PAPER!" into her face. This was enough to reset her autopilot and with a nod she began bagging my groceries in the correct receptacle.

There was the time that upon announcing to both the checker and bagger that I wished to have paper, I masterfully caught out of the corner of my eye that my request had not penetrated the two foot bubble of 'all the exists in the world' encompassing the checker drone. With lightning speed I threw out my hand to stop their advancement toward the plastic bags. This made my existence known to them so that I was able to explain my preference to him, again.

There have been the numerous times that even after authoritatively and with eye contact I have given my 'paper' command to each drone present, that I must then go a step further and give them directions as to not put my paper bag in a plastic bag. Sometimes this needs to be explained a second time, but like I said before, I pride myself on being able win against a foe that outnumbers me and is incessantly stubborn in its brainlessness.

Today I failed. Not only did I fall to the enemy, but they rained down revenge from years of leaving the battleground successfully with only paper bags. Let me now tell you about this sad defeat and merciless vengeance.

This morning upon looking at my grocery list I estimated that 2 bags would be needed to hold them all. I went to the cupboard below the sink and removed two paper bags; making sure of course that they were from the same store I was intending to shop at. I entered the battlefield two paper bags and one grocery list in hand. Fifteen minutes later I fearlessly approached my adversary with my now full basket. At the moment the first item was about to be scanned I proclaimed my desire to reuse the two bags I had with me and handed them over to the bagger drone. I then turned my attention to the checker drone and explained my need to buy stamps, all the while keeping his cohort with in sight. That is when they struck!

My opponent at the check register, which held my needed stamps, looked at me and mumbled something with which I could only decipher the words eight and twenty four from within the sentence. I asked for clarification but that only yielded the same nonsense. Instead of trying to give an education on the need to part one's lips in order to speak, I decided to try and communicate with this life-form by saying, "Uh, twenty four?" My guess at his initial communication had been wrong obviously because the mumbling human look-a-like in front of me, seeming shocked by my response, then explained to me that they only had books of twenty four stamps. His sudden ability to speak coherently shocked me and it would only be too late that I would realize that this had all been a ruse to distract me.

Upon being handed my stamps I turned to collect my...bags?

But I was not looking at my two paper bags! What I was looking at was one 6-pack of beer and nothing else, placed in a paper bag with in a plastic bag. The other paper bag was filled with two items and my chicken wrapped in a plastic bag, and all of this then in a plastic bag. The last of my items were all placed in a brimming double plastic bag.

But then came the final death blow! This callous and unforgiving spawn from a corporate demon had wrapped a plastic bag around the handle for my cat litter. The sadistically jovial exclamation behind me from the deceptive checker of, "Oh Joe! That is such a good idea. How nice of you." was a final plunge into my heart heathen hordes from yore used to do after a battle to ensure no survivors.

I was forced to walk with my head held low out of those sliding doors with six plastic bags. Some may ask why I did not take a final stand and demand the removal of all the unwanted bags. Some may say that I gave in and surrendered. They do not understand the depth of vile filth from which this demon Safeway sprouted from. For if you decide to take that final desperate swing you are given an even more excruciating end. The baggers, while looking uncaring into your eyes, will throw each of those bags into the trash below them, even though there is a recycling bin for just such bags only steps outside the front door. Even defeated they force you to silence your own voice in order to remain on the moral high ground.

I curse you Safeway. I curse you.

2008?

Invariably, at every New Years party, someone asks, "What do you have planned for (enter year)?" This usually happens toward the beginning of the party before the champagne has started to take effect. Later on, it is due to the champagne that ridiculous resolutions are made.

Well this time when the question was asked it struck me that 2008 is going to be so wildly different than 2007 that I don't know if I will even recognize myself in 6 months. That is, if everything goes according to plan, and by plan I mean that there is not much of one.

In the last couple of years I have moved to a cheaper place to live, gotten rid of my car, and dropped the idea of buying my own place and therefore stopped saving for it. In short, no financial responsibilities. If I felt like going out to eat all week, so be it. Night out on the town? No worries. Night out on the town two or three nights in a row? So what. That awesome jacket/shirt/pants/whatever in the store window? So mine.

Starting yesterday that all changed. I am now back on a student's budget. No more calling for a delivery of chicken parmigiana with garlic bread and opening a bottle of wine for dinner. It is back to 101 creative ways to cook top ramen. The expensive and in a perfect location apartment I have will have to be traded for a cheaper pad and hoofing or busing it. Going out with friends every other night will be limited to happy hour once or twice a week...

You get the picture.
Doing all of this before is not that distant of a memory but after the last couple of years will take some getting use to.

Then there is going back to school.
This in itself is not so much a problem, but after numerous visits to different colleges, if being given a tour or talking to "advisers" who I swear do not look old enough to drink (legally) and keep calling me ma'am is any indication of what I will be experiencing in class, then I am in for a shock. Back at UCSB and SBCC I remember there always being that one older person in class. They did not hang out with the rest of us after class or join any study groups, when they talked in class their input seemed foreign or "old" and they were always chummy with the teacher because they seemed to "understand" each other. Well I am going to BE that person for some now.

I keep promising myself that I will try and not give any knowing smirks when someone brags about how "smashed" they got last weekend or complains about their roommate not doing the dishes. I keep saying to myself that I will not befriend the teacher and chat with them about topics unrelated to the class, well at least not in front of everyone. I will try and not start any sentences with, "Well I remember..." or, "Well, it use to be..."

Yeah, we will see how that goes.

But of course the biggest change in 2008 is moving to Portland. It is not that Portland is that strange, it is actually a lot like Seattle and only a three hour drive away, it is that I am moving by myself.

For half my life living at home I shared a room with my brother. When I moved to Santa Barbara it was with my friend Dre. All seven years in SB I lived with at least one other person. When I moved to Seattle it was with Greg. Of course this was with the intention of him getting his own place as soon as we got up here, but with in two hours of being in Seattle I begged him to stay awhile. It was six months later he moved out.

I have been living in my own place for two years now, but that was after I had enough time to get myself acquainted with Seattle, make some friends, got a job - basically get settled in. I still can not bear to be alone for more than half a day.

But I guess I will be getting use to that soon too...

I think I am going to go have a local micro brewed beer right now, while I can still afford it, am able to share it with others, and they will not look at me as "old" for doing so.