As some of you know, I recently moved down the street. I now live in a wonderful tchotchke of an Italian neighborhood where I won't feel ashamed flaunting my ceramic Christmas tree (but only as early as Black Friday; none of this celebrating Christmas in October bull).

It is my first time living on my own. It is a small place. But it is big. It is a big deal. My basement is huge. I have a basement. It fits my personality nicely.

This new stage in my life will be a good one. I know it. The depressingly white walls and kitchen cabinets and everything say otherwise. But they can shove it, cause I have plans. Big plans.

-my fridge is royalty

"Weirdest Day Yet" or "What you should know about Zipcars"

Today was possibly one of the weirdest and most humiliating days of my life. I'm sure there will be more and worse.

Where do I even start?

Today, I had an interview. Honestly, that was the least of my worries. To get to this interview, I needed to drive 20 minutes outside of town. 

Problem: My car is in the shop currently. (That's a completely different yet equally annoying experience.)

Solution: Rent a Zipcar for a few hours.

I was a little apprehensive about reserving a Zipcar because I've been in many situations where the person before me doesn't return it on time and I didn't want to be late to the interview. I scheduled the reservation so that it would make up for that if it happened.

Problem: The Zipcar wasn't where it should be when I got there.

Solution: It was in the right spot. I'm retarded.

I was really confused by the fact that there are two Zipcar spots (about a half a block from each other) - one is where I thought the car would be (which I guess used to be a legit spot but no longer is), the other is where the car was.

Problem: Zipcar has a misleading sign at a non-spot.

Solution: They should get the fuck on that.

I am on the phone with Zipcar trying to figure this out and then realize my stupidity. By this time, I am really pressed for time to get to the interview on time.

Problem: I might be late to a goddamn interview.

Solution: Drive fast enough to get there exactly on the nose and end up waiting for the interviewer. WIN.

So when I got to the interview, I discovered it was in two parts; the first was a group interview explaining the details and requirements of the position to us, the second was an individual chat about our interest in the position.

Problem: I am not an entrepreneur and hardly know what they do and probably don't have a lot of interest, but for some reason decided that they wanted to consider me for an interview.

Solution: Take intense mental notes during the group interview and think of awesome ways I can argue that I have certain qualities they are looking for and advertise that I am willing to put everything into the job.

Problem: I felt incredibly out of place and at one point even mildly insulted. The interviewer was clearly uninterested in my achievements and qualities.

Solution: Rise above it. It's not worth it.

So I left the building with his card and a request from the guy to call him tomorrow saying whether I am worth another interview. I'm going to say that it's not the right fit. This is a rare case where I would rather quit than be rejected and further humiliated.

Walking toward my Zipcar, I retrieve my wallet and realize that my Zipcard (which unlocks the vehicle) is not there. Fuck.

Problem: I am indefinitely locked out of the Zipcar.

Problem: My reservation ends in about an hour.

Problem: I am 20-30 minutes away from the original Zipcar location thus I'm short on time.

Problem: My phone is in the car.

Problem: My apartment keys are in the car.

Solution: Freak the fuck out... then...

Solution: Walk several miles (in my formal attire) in search of:

1) A place where I can get change so that I can use...

2) A pay phone to call Zipcar so they can unlock the car.

Getting change could not have been easier. I was outside the post office asking someone where the nearest pay phone was and they said "I don't know. I'm not from here. Maybe you could check that laundromat." Brilliant. I was able to get change without the awkward "Oh hey, can I have change. No, I don't want to buy a sandwich." Alas, there was no pay phone at the laundromat. 

Luckily, there was a store that didn't have a pay phone but offered for me to use their phone. So I call Zipcar.

Problem: In order for Zipcar to unlock my car, they need my Zipcard number. I didn't memorize that.

Solution?: I notice my Zipcard is in the car but...

Problem: It is face down so I can't read the number on it.

Solution: Call someone who can look up the number for me. (Or, less likely, find a computer with internet access. This is Oakmont, folks.)

Just as I go to call someone, I notice that I am behind the counter being awkward while there are customers looking at me strangely. I decide that I will instead keep searching for a pay phone and come back as a last resort.

So I continue my quest. Imagine me wearing a suit sans jacket carrying a black folder like I'm selling something walking around Oakmont, PA (which is, nothing against it, a small yet charming town in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere) asking every person in sight if they knew where a pay phone was - or for that matter WHAT a pay phone was. To the average person, it looked like I was selling something. (Perhaps I would be an awesome entrepreneur.) 

One woman in Walgreen's commented that those are basically obsolete. Thanks ma'am. That's very helpful. A woman - who worked at one of the handful of gas stations I scavenged - seemed to know the location of every pay phone within a mile that existed in the past 25 years. I was impressed until she told me that "they" removed all of them recently. Uh huh. Regardless, there were no pay phones. Anywhere.

Then, finally, after having walked several miles, I find a pay phone! Meanwhile, my reservation is definitely up. I try calling someone who can help me look up my Zipcard number. The only numbers I know off hand are family (i.e. long distance). Pay phones - at least this one - don't allow long distance calls unless you're calling collect. So my mother, not thrilled, accepts a collect call from her troubled son. Just when she is about to help me out by giving me the information...

Problem: The pay phone starts cutting out and eventually, we are disconnected.

Solution: There is none. (Try again? Not so much.)

So I decide that I will give in to my awkward tendencies and return to the store where the nice lady let me use her phone. Mae's Hallmark Cards if anyone is wondering. I highly recommend them for... anything. Sadly, she doesn't let me make a long-distance phone call because she's unsure of how much it would cost. I offered to give her money but didn't know how much to charge me. As an alternative, I just called the local police to come and break into the Zipcar. Hilarious. So I thank the kind lady and GTFO to stand by the car. (I offered to buy her a Thank You card from her own store but she refused. How ironic.)

The police arrive and begin their attempt to break into my car.

Problem: Breaking into a Zipcar is possibly one of the most difficult things to do in the world.

Zipcars are nice in that they are super secure. Most of the mechanisms of the car shut off as a safety feature - including the power locks. So I'm watching the policeman pushing the power lock button inside the door and nothing is happening. That really sucks for children who are left in the vehicle and forgotten by their parents. It also sucks for me.

Problem: Oakmont's finest are unable to break into my car at the moment.

As a result of this failed attempt, the policeman offers me to make some calls on his cell phone. How nice! I can easily call anyone. Long distance even! I get a hold of my father who was, before I called, seconds from being on his way to Pittsburgh to come save me. Not necessary. Also, wow. Just when I'm about to finally obtain my Zipcar number...

Solution: The police successfully break into the car by accidentally breaking off the zip-lined key that hangs below the steering wheel and snatching it out. Skillz.

The policeman says I should buy him a donut. I laugh and think he's serious. He's not. Oh well.

So I'm in the car and I call Zipcar using my phone letting them know what's up and they finally let me start the car. (Yeah, there's a weird feature where if the car isn't unlocked using the Zipcard, the engine won't start. I know.) I return the car and finally come in for a landing in North Oakland and call it a day.

I wish I could call it something else, but I guess that's all it was.

All For One and One For All... or something like that?

Lately, I've had an interest in researching social networking statistics pertaining to how many friends the "average" person has. According to Facebook, that number is 120. According to various social scientists (and don't ask me to cite this), that number is closer to 3. I was going to perhaps talk about why these numbers are so different, but I think most people could figure out the difference between the many types of friends and acquaintances. Instead, I've decided to briefly reflect on my year of friendships. Caution: You are now entering my social world.

There is the friend who went through many of the same experiences as me. In fact, this could be most of my friends. Besides, friends need to have something in common, right? But this person has not only helped me to find these similarities in my fellow man, but also to confide in these cognitive explorations over tea at random hours of the day and random days of the week. This person is one of my primary confidants and really knows how to brew a steamy conversation about philosophy, politics, art, and personal identity. This person also really likes soft, fuzzy blankets. And I like that about them.

There is the friend who serves as a role model - an image of what I'd like to become. This person has taught me a lot about what I would learn later would be my primary interests in life. I have also learned from this friend the unique value of acquaintances and all of the awkward moments that come with them. We have had some of the deepest intellectual conversations that I've had ever - and even at ungodly hours of the day. I partially obtain my personal style from this person; the key to individuality is in what pair of socks you're wearing.

There is the friend who knows basically everything about me - even the grimy details. This person is, naturally, one of my main confidants. This person loves to learn and travel and has acceptably high aspirations of wanting to life their life to the fullest and make something of their time here on Earth. This person has shared expeditious adventures with me where we discovered fascinating things about the world and ourselves. There are times when we have been annoyed with each other and times when we would do anything for each other. This person has taught me the value of taking risks.

There is the friend who is "with-you-and-in-it-for-the-win". This person is very intelligent and has walked down many of the same paths as me. This person is the definition of kindness and composure for me. They have also been incredibly patient with me and they have restored (somewhat) my faith in humanity. This person also has one of the best laughs ever.

There is the friend who has been my ultimate source of wisdom. In nearly every case where there is a difficult decision for me to make, I heed the advice of this friend. Perhaps it might be best to make my own decisions, but somehow I think they like hearing my problems. It works out really well, even when they say things that I don't want to hear. But this person has taught me to take criticism much better than I used to by being more critical myself.

There is the friend who, despite having known them for only a short while, has become my ultimate confidant - my go-to person whenever I have something I need to get out. They know absolutely everything there is to know about me. And in return, they confide in me their personal thoughts. They have taught me an incredible amount about myself through their own experiences. This person is probably the most welcoming and forgiving person I know. This is the friend who, despite being far away, has been such a friend that I feel they haven't left. There are many a visit planned for the near future involving gay robots and dinosaurs or any combination thereof.

Then there is the friend who has given me the greatest gift. I have learned more about myself, others, the world, and everything from this person than from anyone else I've met in my life. This person has truly taught me to look within myself and rediscover much of what I understand about life - my life. This person and I have shared some of the best moments of my life that I will never forget. This person is compassionate, generous, intelligent, and artistic. This person is an inspiration. This person is everything. That greatest gift I mentioned earlier? It is a four-letter word, but so much more than that.

Even though some of these friends come and go, my memories of them will always be with me. The best friends must part. And I believe that if there is anything that I learned (and didn't just read and agree with) is that it is definitely better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. If there is anything I believe in this world, it is that.

Happy New Year.

One year in 120 seconds from Eirik Solheim on Vimeo.