Japan Town

San Francisco Adventures Part II:

After pitching a campaign at Haagen-Dazs' headquarters we had the rest of the time to play around and explore the city.

Our friends ended up staying at a different place than us during the first part of the trip. I guess they had found a killer deal on a room at a hotel somewhere in Japan Town (red flag numero uno).

What's the second red flag you ask?

Hows abouts the fact that the name of the hotel was: Hotel Tomo! Anime Hotel.

Luckily we were able to hang out for a minute in their hotel one night... allow me to take you on the tour.


 Meet Hotel Tomo!

The ceiling of the lobby. This is what first slaps you in the face as you walk in... the giant pink hand floating above you.

Then we have lobby furniture. What you cannot see are the three television sets stacked on top of another playing anime movies to the left.

Here we have the blottoman... part blob + part couch + part ottoman and ALL swagger.

This is the mural on the wall of the bedroom. The girl painted on the wall is actually crying and has tears coming down her cheeks. I can only assume its because the stupid doves stole all of her mail and flew away with them. A lot of symbolism in this. Deep... really really deep.

Now here is the kicker... this is the only framed picture in the room.  My guess is that this is where someone can open it from the other side of the wall and you would NEVER know the difference. On a creepy level this guages at about 9.3 give or take .5

Each floor has bright neon walls and every door is a different color. When you walk out of the elevator it's kinda like old school zebra stripe gum meets carnival fun house meets the Winchester Mystery house.

Now when I said 'here is the kicker'... I lied. THIS is the kicker... as I was leaving the hotel I noticed a sign that said, "To check into the Sleep Disorders Center go to the lobby desk." Yes, if you suffer from sleep disorders, including Sleep Apnea, Insomnia, etc; you can be observed and treated here.

[blank stare]

Because nothing screams relaxation and sweet dreams like proven anxiety colors, peep holes, and traumatic murals all lulling you to sleep at night...

Morals of Post:

• Once again, if you are in the bay area...
  
• The only thing missing is the complimentary 'Chupacabra' in every room. Maybe next year?

A Gift for You

So my friend got a gift from Target online.

When you buy a gift from target online you can pay 6 extra bucks for them to wrap it.

My friend had an internal debate whether or not to pay to have someone else wrap a gift for her but figured that they would have cool ribbon, etc... and it would end up looking better than what she could have done with the stuff she had at home.

False.

Meet the worst gift wrapping non-job you have ever seen.

The gift came inside a bigger box that had no packaging peanuts or anything. Just a box inside another bigger box rolling around during its journey from China, or wherever, to here.

Another personal highlight of mine would be the fact that:

A. There was no tape. At all.

B. The ribbon. The ribbon, once wrapped around the box, actually is about 3 inches from even touching the other side of the ribbon. It looks more like a little tail for the box that they glued on. Or like the little streamer on the bottom of kites.

Fun? Yes.

Professional? H to the no.

Moral of Post:

      Gift... 50 dollars.

      Worst Wrap Job Ever... 6 dollars

      My friend still giving the gift and writing "A gift for you, only the best will do, this is the worst wrapping job, so if you got a problem... screw you." on the card provided...  Priceless

T.G.I.M.

Thank the good heavens above that its finally Monday!

Here is a little word scramble game with the theme of my weekend...

LIAFRUE

Hint: The beginning rhymes with pail and the word ends in -ure.

failure. good job.

Okay where do I even begin? How about the fact that I had to work Saturday and had two wedding receptions that night (which happened to be an hour apart from each other) and a weekend retreat which was to include fireworks and a Brazilian barbecue...

Eventful to say the least.

So after work (and getting about 2 hours of sleep the night before) I came home and crashed on my bed. When I woke up it was clear that I had slept more than just a few hours... I had been dead to the world for actually quite a few hours and woke up in a horrible nap funk/realization that I was ridiculously late now. I had all but missed one of my good friend's reception (Mary, I apologize from the bottom of my jagged little heart! As you will see, karma definitely showed me what was up for missing it). Friend fail.

So I frantically tried to find any clothes that I could get away with wearing to a reception since I had forgotten to pick up my dry cleaning with all my shirts, pants, etc earlier that day. Swagger fail.

I also became very aware that I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so I swung by Wendy's on my way and for the next 15 minutes tried to drive, eat, and avoid getting fancy ketchup all over myself. Though I'm not quite sure how... I managed to not spill, but I did manage to get flipped off by the guy in the car in front of me? Driving fail.

An hour later I finally make it to the general whereabouts of the address on the invitation, but of course they are having construction everywhere in the city and had about every road that I needed to take closed off with orange barrels. Convenience fail.

I make it to what I think is probably the right area and see a ton of cars parked along the road. SUCCESS! I found it! So I hop out of my car and am warmly greeted by ranchero music pounding in the air. Hmmm, I didn't know that they had such an appreciation for Latin culture to play tuba music at their wedding... whatever. Then as I walked around thought to myself, "Hmmm, also interesting that only Latins were invited to their wedding?! M a y b e.... this isn't the right place?" Quincienera crashing fail.

So I drove around again trying to find the address and came to a dead end which I thought was was only a block away from where the reception should be; I got out of my car to see if I could cut across a field to get to it. Smart, I know. So there I was on the west side of the railroad tracks on a dead end road walking around empty warehouses in the dark trying to see if I can find 'the hardware building'. 

I then saw a car coming down the dead end road towards me; I have seen one too many movies to know that this had trouble written all over it, so I jetted over to my car and took off.

Realizing that I was never going to find this place on my own, I put the address in my phone and it ended up taking me to a giant mall complex on the other side of the tracks. Wtf.

So I get out and asked the people in a Barnes and Noble in the mall if they had any idea where the hardware building or warehouse was and they told me there were a lot of warehouses around. Duly noted. I told them that I had trespassed nearly all of them. They said there was a red brick building behind the mall that could be it. So I left the mall and checked out the building but the side store was for some other company and was definitely not a place for a reception.

I had been driving around for an hour and a half when I decided I was never going to find this joint in this lifetime and I started driving away when I noticed on top of the building that I had just checked out said, 'The Warehouse Building'! So I pulled over again and ran across the street to the building and went to the other side of the street passing a security guard along the way.

Of course the doors were locked so I went back and found the the security guard and...

Me: Hey, where can I get into the reception?
Security guard: There is no reception here.
Me: Okay, where nearby is having a reception?
Security guard: There isn't a reception tonight.
Me: Is there another part of the building that would have receptions?
Security guard: Are you with the 'blah blah blah' group?
Me: Um... m a y b e....
Security guard: [walks over to keypad to put in the code to open the doors]
       So, are you with the group?
Me: Well, I could be... not quite sure where I'm suppose to be.
[Security guard stops typing in numbers and looks hesitant to let me in]
Me: Wait... yeah, I probably am.

I had successfully broken into the building by beguiling a security guard. By now I'm pretty much double '0' status. If you need a spy or just someone uber sneaky... hit me up.

So I walk into the building and have no idea where to go and start wandering around when I hear someone yell behind me, "Hey" and I turn and it's the security guard and he tells me to go straight down the hall and that is where my party is. panic. Pretty sure this group of people is going to know that I am not really with them when I go traipsing inside.

When I walked into the room I see my friend, his new wife, and both of their parents. All alone. I could have sworn that the the reception went until 10:30 (which by now was around 10:20) They all turned around when I walked in and had the most surprised/confused looks on their faces, which in return put a confused look on my face too.

Groom: Hawk! What are you doing here?
Me: Um, I know I'm a little late?
Bride: Oh no... did you think our wedding was tonight?
Bride: Its next weekend.
Groom: We were just out to dinner with our parents and thought we would check it out again one more time before next week.
Me: Hmm, that's weird... I thought I'd check out the place a week before too. You know, check the place out, make sure I know how to get there, [fade out mumbling]...

So just when you don't think you can feel like any more of a failure...

Groom's dad: Well of course he didn't think it was today... he didn't bring a present.

Thank you Groom's dad.

Morals of the Post:

• Just when you think you are having a special night secluded with the ones you love most... I will be there. I will always creepily be there. "Hey guys, ya'll sure do walk fast! Man, you almost lost me after dinner..."
  
• First time I have ever looked forward to a Monday.
  
• Two failed receptions and to top it off - not one single reception dinner... I should have 'hola'ed' my way into the Quicienera Fiesta when I had my chance.
  

Tribute to the Children

Dear children that were on your little bikes distracting the cop hiding behind the sign waiting to speed trap me as I rocketed by while I was late to work this morning,

thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Love,

Hawk

Moral of Post:

• Universe: 154,306,527
  Me: 1

Deadly Plagues

As I have mentioned before about my immune system... I apparently don't have one. That or it has, like Amanda Bynes, taken all that it can and retired.

Monday: Severe allergies.

• I went through a roll and a half of toilet paper and finished up a box of Kleenex. By severe I mean perma nose faucet and continual sneezing from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. (which was about the time I ate dinner, took a healthy dose of Benadryl, and peaced out to the world for about the next 14 hours). 

Tuesday: Food poisoning.

• Dear Joe Banditos restaurant,
         
                  I hate you. I hate you with the passion of a thousand suns. Not only did you make me throw up 7 times yesterday (one of which was in Walmart. WALMART! Worst place ever to have to throw up fyi), but also for the fever, dehydration, and 12 minutes of sleep that I got last night.
  
  

Wednesday (today): Migraine.

• Food Poisoning hangover.
  
  

Thursday (forecast for tomorrow): Locusts and/or all the water around me turning into blood.

• I'm fairly certain if things continue to go the way they have the past two days, I should have finished all the plagues by Saturday or Sunday.
  

 Bring it on.


Morals of Post:

• Amanda Bynes, really? Life sure is rough.
  
• Joe Banditos caused 5 people to have to call in sick to their work and think they were going to die. We ALL hate you.

Heartbreak Hoopers

So when I got to my friend's place in San Francisco the other week, I barely had time to say hello when we went to her favorite store because she had just bought her husband a jacket there and thought I would want one just like it, and I didn't have time to blink before we were in her car driving over.

We got there and walked through the door of the store only to be greeted by a girl in full half moon yoga position, which went into lion position, and then against the laws of nature... went into feathered peacock position.

I'm sorry, WHERE are we?!

The girl then hopped up and started chatting away with my friend as I snuck on over to the jackets in the corner. I was alone for no more than three minutes when I hear a, "Hi! I'm Arielle! So how do you two know each other?!" It was the incredibly perky yoga master from the front of the store; so I jumped in telling her how my friend and I knew each other.

Somehow (still not quite sure how...) we got talking about how she was an aerialist (which I find to be quite the irony/foreshadow that her name is Arielle and that she is an aerialist... that's kinda like if I end up being a Hawk handler for the rest of my life; good to know I have options). We then got talking about how she would love to join Cirque du Soleil but never could because they require you to speak french fluently to be in their troupe. I informed her that I too had some reasons why the good people of Cirque du Soleil would never let me join their troupe either.

Check out 'Empathy' in the dictionary... you'll see the picture of us in the jacket section commiserating together as their reference picture.

Our conversation from utter left field somehow got more interesting as she started telling me that she specializes in hula hoop. Now once conversation has reached hula hoop status, one will find themselves completely invested and completely out of 'casual chit-chat' bounds.

She told me about where she had learned it, and she also told me that she teaches hula hoop classes at night. Then, out of bloody nowhere, there was a HULA HOOP right in front of me that she somehow had in her hands?!! Magical.

She then informed me that she makes all of her own hula hoops and this is one of the ones that she had made. By now a lot of the coworkers had gathered around chanting for her to 'hula', meanwhile my friend was nowhere to be found?!

What is happening?!

Here is another blatant iPhone plug... you will never know when you will cross paths with a professional hula hooper and mark my words, when that day comes you had better have some kind of recording device with you to capture the moment.

  Behold...

She is incredible.

Now I'm not one to brag, but I have been known to win a shimmy contest or two in my day... but never did I know what I have been missing all these years!

Shimmy + Hula  =  Default Win.

She gave me one of her business cards and I would be really selfish to keep it all to myself... so here you go.

Heartbreak Hoopers
Heartbreakhoopers.com
Arielle (aka 'Hooperella')

Apparently you get a hooper name when you turn pro.

I have been thinking of what my hooper name would be should I decide to reconsider my career...

Hawkahoop...

Hoopahawker...

Ken-a-hoopa-hawk-anator...

Hooper-hamhawk-a-loogie....

Hmmm, starting to have to have some horrible junior high flashbacks. I'll have to work on the name...

Morals of the Post:

• I don't know if its the hippie in my blood talking, or the Native American connecting with ritual ring/rain dances... but either way, this is baller!! I endorse it! a lot.
  
•  If interested, and you live in the bay area... have Arielle teach you! She's pretty much the best thing to hit hula hoops since, well... ever.  Tell her Hawk sent you.

• If you own a company I HIGHLY recommend stationing yoga'ers, aerialists, and hoopers at every entrance... I felt guilty for getting a complete performance and not buying anything, so I bought the jacket. That my friends, is smart marketing.
  
  
• To all my Heartbreak Hoopers out there... Hoop on.

Mazda, Why?!

Things That Scare/Creep Me Out Beyond Reason Part I:

May I introduce you to the new Mazda 2010... aka Satan's Chariot.

The first time that I saw one of these at work I thought to myself,

"Wow, you kind of look familiar there little guy..."

Then I realized...

"Oh, because you are pretty much the identical twin of the Letters to Juliet girl... "

 
How is that possible?

Could it be the little slanty eyes that are approx. 3 feet apart? Or the large nervous ear to ear grin? Or maybe the button nose?

Kinda adorable? Sure.

Mostly Creepy? Absolutely.

So that was my first run in with the weird phenomenon... a safe distance away, and I was safely protected from it by a thick wall and a sturdy window.

I was safe.

Later that week I was driving down the road when, next thing I knew, one of them came zooming at me in the other lane... let me just tell you that the likeness and similarities of the funny blond girl in Mean Girls ended there...

As we passed each other it took on a new frighteningly similar resemblance to that of Jack McBrayer flying towards me.

Weird. Yes.

Luckily, I happen to love Kenneth the Page and found it kind of amusing as it passed by.

That was all until the other day when I was driving on the freeway, and I looked in my rear-view mirror only to see one of them CHASING ME DOWN! I sped up; but those stupid Mazdas are actually quite peppy and annoyingly fast. So there I was... each time I looked up in the rear-view mirror the clown car from hell just got closer and closer.

Funny Kenneth the Page Car quickly turned into Kenneth the Killer Car as it raced to catch up to me (and run me off the road no doubt).

(Snapshot from my rear-view mirror)

So... I made a power lane change across 3 lanes and took the next exit.

(Granted I was fairly distracted by trying to outmaneuver the the IT killer clown car that I nearly missed my own exit...) 

If I have learned anything from being a creeper myself, it is that if you take an exit abruptly you are most likely to loose the one chasing you and make it out alive. Barely.

Morals of the Post:

• If I had to choose between watching Trolls II again (shudder) or to be chased down by one of these again... well lets just say, Bust out the popcorn!
  
• I think this design may be Mazda's dying breath. No, really. When you see Bob Saget start doing commercials for them, welp... memba I toldja so! (tribute to Kevin)