Uh. Yeah. Was it wise of me to set this up to FeedBurner? Because.... it's really discouraging to see that NO ONE has subscribed to my feed. Pathetic.
Add me to your feeds. Add me feed me add me feed me.
January 28, 2006
January 27, 2006
Mad Hot Ballroom: Rent It.
I Laughed, I Cried, Fuhgeddaboudit! Rent it!
Hello. You HAVE TO rent Mad Hot Ballroom [note: NOT what you think]. C'mon - you're gonna love many many many points about this film:
1. Teachers and classes SHAPE children. So does competition. Let me tell you: this movie [re]opened my eyes to the challenges of teachers. Whether you loved or hated the 'Teach back in the day, the fact is teachers shape PEOPLE. OMG. Can you say love-hate? This movie will make you love them. Again.
2. Cyrus. How can anyone NOT love Cyrus? He is a little Buddha Bad Ass- wise before his time; questioning everything; a pierced left ear at 10 years of age, just really his own delightful person.
3. I love Wilson! From the moment I saw him in that very first frame in which he was shown. I loved him, I swear. Before I knew he was amazing. I guess it is an apparant "star" quality. Wilson! You! Go!
4. Fever: Whoa, girls, settle down! You're what... 10, 11 years old?? You have the intellectual maturity of women beyond my years! The needs you speak of I have only just learned!!!
5. This movie sees souls. Really, you'll see them too.
6. The Indigo Embrassos. I'm crying now. And am I spelling "kisses" right?
7. Moms. I love moms. I hate moms. Sometimes moms f'up, or as children of them we think moms f' up. But they are doing the best they no how (er, hopefully). Honestly, I'm rooting for them.
9. Students excel and teachers cry.
10! Results!
Rent rent rent rent. And then rent Spellbound. OK goodnight.
Hello. You HAVE TO rent Mad Hot Ballroom [note: NOT what you think]. C'mon - you're gonna love many many many points about this film:
1. Teachers and classes SHAPE children. So does competition. Let me tell you: this movie [re]opened my eyes to the challenges of teachers. Whether you loved or hated the 'Teach back in the day, the fact is teachers shape PEOPLE. OMG. Can you say love-hate? This movie will make you love them. Again.
2. Cyrus. How can anyone NOT love Cyrus? He is a little Buddha Bad Ass- wise before his time; questioning everything; a pierced left ear at 10 years of age, just really his own delightful person.
3. I love Wilson! From the moment I saw him in that very first frame in which he was shown. I loved him, I swear. Before I knew he was amazing. I guess it is an apparant "star" quality. Wilson! You! Go!
4. Fever: Whoa, girls, settle down! You're what... 10, 11 years old?? You have the intellectual maturity of women beyond my years! The needs you speak of I have only just learned!!!
5. This movie sees souls. Really, you'll see them too.
6. The Indigo Embrassos. I'm crying now. And am I spelling "kisses" right?
7. Moms. I love moms. I hate moms. Sometimes moms f'up, or as children of them we think moms f' up. But they are doing the best they no how (er, hopefully). Honestly, I'm rooting for them.
9. Students excel and teachers cry.
10! Results!
Rent rent rent rent. And then rent Spellbound. OK goodnight.
January 23, 2006
Toothpaste Gone
Baby, that toothpaste you so surprisingly and thoughtfully purchased while you were at the store is almost gone. Granted, it is not my favorite toothpaste, but the fact that it is almost out is making me sad. It's like you're disappearing, twice a day.
OK, considering my last post, it seems that Cancer women are the equivalent to Jekyl and Hyde. Hold on for a rough ride, fellas.
POST SCRIPT: OK again. Considering that I deleted my last ... uh... go look up Cancers in some astrological website. Then come back. You'll get it. (I'm not kidding: read ANYTHING about the astrological sign Cancer and you'll "GET IT." ABOUT ME, I mean.)
Nighty night!
OK, considering my last post, it seems that Cancer women are the equivalent to Jekyl and Hyde. Hold on for a rough ride, fellas.
POST SCRIPT: OK again. Considering that I deleted my last ... uh... go look up Cancers in some astrological website. Then come back. You'll get it. (I'm not kidding: read ANYTHING about the astrological sign Cancer and you'll "GET IT." ABOUT ME, I mean.)
Nighty night!
January 22, 2006
How Scars Move
It's funny. How scars move.
Have you noticed?
I was born with holes in my neck. Yes holes; 3 of them. Apparently, they were more like gills. I've tried and tried to figure this out, to get some sort of medical explanation, both through my mom and through Google, but I have just never gotten a straight answer from either of them. I can easily claim that these "gills" haven't had any effect whatsoever on my life, regardless of their mystery.
What my mom has told me, is where the scars were physically when I was born, which is not where they are now. Now, they are low, near the nape of my neck. When I was born they were closer to my chin.
So I know that as a body grows and skin adapts, so do its scars.
The relativity? I was just looking at a photo someone took of me last night. The photo captures part of my face and most of the length of my left arm. On which I have a scar (from a tick bite, but that's another story). When I examined the photo more closely tonight, I couldn't see said scar. I zoomed in; still no scar. Sitting in front of the computer, I took off my sweater and thoroughly examined my arm. OK, now I KNOW I got a tick bite in high school. I've explained the odd non-mole-bump to a number of people who have noticed it. But it wasn't there. I searched and searched, and finally I found it. It was on the other arm. Woops.
Anyway, there was an astonishing parallel in the routine. Recently I have been questioning the status quo of a relationship. The abundance of affection and desire which was present in the beginning has morphed in the past months, disappeared even. I have wondered where it all went. I've been questioning; secure in one moment and emotionally dissolved in the next. Every once in a while, I am convinced it is still there. But in the most introspective of moments I don't see it, and that makes me wonder. So basically, for the past few weeks, I have been absolutely tormented.
And then, after searching for the tick scar (in conjunction with a little astroligical rehab, but I digress), I had my "Oprah 'Ah-Ha' Moment." There is nothing to figure out here, in the relationship; it has just moved. Adapted. Changed. Do I like where it is now? No. I'm a Cancer after all, and what this is isn't good for me. I can't give to one who is present one minute and restless and unavailable the next. Ever moving, just a little bit like a scar.
Have you noticed?
I was born with holes in my neck. Yes holes; 3 of them. Apparently, they were more like gills. I've tried and tried to figure this out, to get some sort of medical explanation, both through my mom and through Google, but I have just never gotten a straight answer from either of them. I can easily claim that these "gills" haven't had any effect whatsoever on my life, regardless of their mystery.
What my mom has told me, is where the scars were physically when I was born, which is not where they are now. Now, they are low, near the nape of my neck. When I was born they were closer to my chin.
So I know that as a body grows and skin adapts, so do its scars.
The relativity? I was just looking at a photo someone took of me last night. The photo captures part of my face and most of the length of my left arm. On which I have a scar (from a tick bite, but that's another story). When I examined the photo more closely tonight, I couldn't see said scar. I zoomed in; still no scar. Sitting in front of the computer, I took off my sweater and thoroughly examined my arm. OK, now I KNOW I got a tick bite in high school. I've explained the odd non-mole-bump to a number of people who have noticed it. But it wasn't there. I searched and searched, and finally I found it. It was on the other arm. Woops.
Anyway, there was an astonishing parallel in the routine. Recently I have been questioning the status quo of a relationship. The abundance of affection and desire which was present in the beginning has morphed in the past months, disappeared even. I have wondered where it all went. I've been questioning; secure in one moment and emotionally dissolved in the next. Every once in a while, I am convinced it is still there. But in the most introspective of moments I don't see it, and that makes me wonder. So basically, for the past few weeks, I have been absolutely tormented.
And then, after searching for the tick scar (in conjunction with a little astroligical rehab, but I digress), I had my "Oprah 'Ah-Ha' Moment." There is nothing to figure out here, in the relationship; it has just moved. Adapted. Changed. Do I like where it is now? No. I'm a Cancer after all, and what this is isn't good for me. I can't give to one who is present one minute and restless and unavailable the next. Ever moving, just a little bit like a scar.
January 20, 2006
The Newest Flickr Addict
Ok, ok, we all know Flickr.com is great. We all use it. And believe you me, I'm the last person to have time on my hands to waste in front of the computer, but I'm addicted to Flickr.
Specifically, I am addicted to "Interestingness." I can reload and reload and reload. There are some fabulous pictures out there. But the thing that has me addicted is the comment section of each photo. Man, there is a WHOLE COMMUNITY out there on Flickr! I mean, the people who comment are almost always connected to the photographer who has uploaded photos. Whether its an added contact or a friend, you get to know the photographers' lives via the comments those people post.
Don't get me wrong; I have a very full life and a whole 'lotta friends. I don't even comment on the photos. But I read the other comments like they are part of the latest literary craze.
So yes, I'm not reading anything new, and my magazines are gathering dust on the coffee table. The newest Flickr addict has arrived.
Specifically, I am addicted to "Interestingness." I can reload and reload and reload. There are some fabulous pictures out there. But the thing that has me addicted is the comment section of each photo. Man, there is a WHOLE COMMUNITY out there on Flickr! I mean, the people who comment are almost always connected to the photographer who has uploaded photos. Whether its an added contact or a friend, you get to know the photographers' lives via the comments those people post.
Don't get me wrong; I have a very full life and a whole 'lotta friends. I don't even comment on the photos. But I read the other comments like they are part of the latest literary craze.
So yes, I'm not reading anything new, and my magazines are gathering dust on the coffee table. The newest Flickr addict has arrived.
January 06, 2006
New Year, New Digs, and a Deal on Rugs (Yes Rugs, not Drugs)
I know I have been remiss in posting. Last time I checked in I had just moved, early December. AND, btw, didn't mean to diss my Cuz, Crazy Artist, who has also recently moved and felt the trials and tribulations of boxes and post-move organizing! (Happy Hanukah, and glad things are going well with Mailman.)
So, here it is, a new year and a new place. I'm still getting used to the area, which is Super Sleepy compared to the other. I feel like I have to tip-toe down the f*'g sidewalk. Day AND night, no joke. And I'll get used to moving my car every two hours to avoid parking tickets until I get my parking permit. Ah, well, I guess it beats meeting up with the 50+-been here since '69-psycho that yells to me "you're NOT getting a rose tonight, Bachelorette!" every time he sees me walking home after a run through Golden Gate Park. Cuz that really grains on a girl's personal image.
On the flip, if I walk 2 blocks from my new place, I can run to the Golden Gate Bridge. Pretty cool. Now I just need to start running again. Luckily, there is a half marathon in Santa Cruz in April... good time to start training, and that should be a super beautiful run.
Let's see, what can I tell you about the last month? Well, first off, here's a tip for all you hardwood floor people, no matter where you live: instead of buying an overpriced area rug that only half meets your taste, ask about carpet remnants. Of course I have an inside contact, but I got 2 fab white shag remnants for under $50, vs. the usual 5x8 area for $250. Inside, people! Inside scoop! This gift I give to you. Vedy vedy smart!
So the apartment is in full working order and I am figuring the rest out. I also had a visitor this month - yes, Long Distance Guy. LDG was here for 2 weeks during the holidays, and it was so nice to finally have him here.
My job was asleep in the month of December. Granted, I had roped a client into making an offer on an $8 million dollar building, but we didn't get it. Regardless, the fact that my colleagues found out that I had such a client was a boon within itself, but not getting the "trophy" building was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least! Things are looking up on the biz, though, with a new buyer and a new seller all within 2 weeks.
San Francisco was also asleep during the month of December. In fact, everywhere I took LDG to show him how hip SF was, it was DEAD. Which is bizarre. We even got all the cabs we needed on NYE. What else can I say but, after the long month of settling in and spending time with my LDG, I am completely refreshed and relaxed and ready to take on the world. Bring. It. On! Cheers.
So, here it is, a new year and a new place. I'm still getting used to the area, which is Super Sleepy compared to the other. I feel like I have to tip-toe down the f*'g sidewalk. Day AND night, no joke. And I'll get used to moving my car every two hours to avoid parking tickets until I get my parking permit. Ah, well, I guess it beats meeting up with the 50+-been here since '69-psycho that yells to me "you're NOT getting a rose tonight, Bachelorette!" every time he sees me walking home after a run through Golden Gate Park. Cuz that really grains on a girl's personal image.
On the flip, if I walk 2 blocks from my new place, I can run to the Golden Gate Bridge. Pretty cool. Now I just need to start running again. Luckily, there is a half marathon in Santa Cruz in April... good time to start training, and that should be a super beautiful run.
Let's see, what can I tell you about the last month? Well, first off, here's a tip for all you hardwood floor people, no matter where you live: instead of buying an overpriced area rug that only half meets your taste, ask about carpet remnants. Of course I have an inside contact, but I got 2 fab white shag remnants for under $50, vs. the usual 5x8 area for $250. Inside, people! Inside scoop! This gift I give to you. Vedy vedy smart!
So the apartment is in full working order and I am figuring the rest out. I also had a visitor this month - yes, Long Distance Guy. LDG was here for 2 weeks during the holidays, and it was so nice to finally have him here.
My job was asleep in the month of December. Granted, I had roped a client into making an offer on an $8 million dollar building, but we didn't get it. Regardless, the fact that my colleagues found out that I had such a client was a boon within itself, but not getting the "trophy" building was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least! Things are looking up on the biz, though, with a new buyer and a new seller all within 2 weeks.
San Francisco was also asleep during the month of December. In fact, everywhere I took LDG to show him how hip SF was, it was DEAD. Which is bizarre. We even got all the cabs we needed on NYE. What else can I say but, after the long month of settling in and spending time with my LDG, I am completely refreshed and relaxed and ready to take on the world. Bring. It. On! Cheers.
December 13, 2005
Settling In
Forgive me for delays in life updates. But as Dawn Summers over at Clarified can attest, moving is a bitch.
First I hurt my back, then I purchased a bed that could not be delivered for a week. Then the movers were 4 hours late and we exceeded the "move-in deadline" of the new apt complex, risking a fine and pissing off the neighbors in this excessively quiet neighborhood. Finally, a lock-out at the old place and a lock-out at the new place within 3 days of each other! Plus a $50 parking ticket. Oy vey.
The good news is that I'm finally settling in. It's been challenging combining decorative items from the several rooms of the old place to the more limited areas of the new place. Can you put grey-blue curtains in a room with a burgandy duvet cover? Hmm. Where does the vintage orange standing lamp fit into that picture? Or the black and gold hookah-esque standing lamp? Oh dear. I'm afraid that I'm so used to seeing all these things in one setting together that they actually "work." It will be interesting to hear what my first guest says (or doesn't).
In other news, I have to finish settling in quite quick over here because the Long Distance Guy will be visiting over the holidays. Yes, the holidays. Yes, all of them. I guess in Europe it's not such a big deal to spend the holidays with someone else's family? Little does he know, oh, little does he know!
First I hurt my back, then I purchased a bed that could not be delivered for a week. Then the movers were 4 hours late and we exceeded the "move-in deadline" of the new apt complex, risking a fine and pissing off the neighbors in this excessively quiet neighborhood. Finally, a lock-out at the old place and a lock-out at the new place within 3 days of each other! Plus a $50 parking ticket. Oy vey.
The good news is that I'm finally settling in. It's been challenging combining decorative items from the several rooms of the old place to the more limited areas of the new place. Can you put grey-blue curtains in a room with a burgandy duvet cover? Hmm. Where does the vintage orange standing lamp fit into that picture? Or the black and gold hookah-esque standing lamp? Oh dear. I'm afraid that I'm so used to seeing all these things in one setting together that they actually "work." It will be interesting to hear what my first guest says (or doesn't).
In other news, I have to finish settling in quite quick over here because the Long Distance Guy will be visiting over the holidays. Yes, the holidays. Yes, all of them. I guess in Europe it's not such a big deal to spend the holidays with someone else's family? Little does he know, oh, little does he know!
November 26, 2005
The Last Night on Waller Street
Tonight is my last night on Waller Street. That's the Upper Haight, People, the Haight Ahsbury District - yes, that's right - I'm officially done with the Summer of Love.
I decided to just chill out and watch bad TV w/ a nice wine on the last night (no dvd or books left here), so went to the store and bought wine. On way home I thought - "no glasses left to drink from!" Then realized I had 2 glasses left in the cupboard. Saved!
Then! 3 steps later in my walk home and... no wine opener!!! - oh boy, defeat. Then realized I had one in the pocket of a travel bag (I am from near Napa afterall - almost every bag I own has a wine opener in its pocket!!! Thank goodness!!! Saved!
So here I am. A few glasses left and some more bad TV to go. But This. Is. It. I'm on to the next chapter.... and it's a good thing, because I'm out of toilet paper.
I decided to just chill out and watch bad TV w/ a nice wine on the last night (no dvd or books left here), so went to the store and bought wine. On way home I thought - "no glasses left to drink from!" Then realized I had 2 glasses left in the cupboard. Saved!
Then! 3 steps later in my walk home and... no wine opener!!! - oh boy, defeat. Then realized I had one in the pocket of a travel bag (I am from near Napa afterall - almost every bag I own has a wine opener in its pocket!!! Thank goodness!!! Saved!
So here I am. A few glasses left and some more bad TV to go. But This. Is. It. I'm on to the next chapter.... and it's a good thing, because I'm out of toilet paper.
November 18, 2005
My Passport Photo
I thought I looked cute today. That is, at least, until I was handed my fresh-off-the-press passport photos. I paid $14 to look like this for the next 10 years?! In fact, I think the photographer was even giving me a re-shoot chance and I didn't realize it. He said "I think you were smiling a little too much??" Ah yes, that would explain why I look like an Asian vampire with a double chin.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but this photo left me speechless. Fuck. Should I re-take them when I haven't consumed beers and only had 5 hours of sleep?
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but this photo left me speechless. Fuck. Should I re-take them when I haven't consumed beers and only had 5 hours of sleep?
November 13, 2005
Packing It Up
It is Sunday afternoon and I have been making a bigger and bigger mess since I woke up this morning.
I am packing, and if any of you have lived in the same place for more than a few years, well, you have a lot of stuff.
I really thought this packing thing would be a breeze. After all, for the last 3 years or so I've had a really tight budget, and have had little opportunity to exercise my materialistic tendancies. Additionally, there is very little storage in my apartment. Unfortunately, if one is considered good at packing, then inherently that person becomes a good pack rat. It's amazing how I've managed to accumulate little boxes and baskets that store knick nacks of all sorts that I used to think were really important to keep.
My closet has been the biggest surprise. It is only the size of a coat closet, but somehow I have managed to make it contain (aside from clothes) a suitcase, several rolls of gift wrap and a box of ribbons, a comforter, a quilt, a blanket, 4 sets of towels, 6 sets of sheets, an old box of files, my checkbooks for the last 6 years, 2 pairs of boots, a lacrosse stick, a tennis racket, a bag of worthless paper items, 2 halloween wigs, 4 ceramic sculptures I did in high school but still cannot bare to part with, and a box containing a car stereo and speakers. There's other stuff to but I think you get the point. It dawns on me that I am a bit of a pack rat.
Anyway, the point is that I am really tired from 2 days straight of this, but it's like a drug I can't stop. Passing any lingering item while walking from one room to another will just make me stop in my tracks and tackle it. I guess it's better than procrastinating.
I am packing, and if any of you have lived in the same place for more than a few years, well, you have a lot of stuff.
I really thought this packing thing would be a breeze. After all, for the last 3 years or so I've had a really tight budget, and have had little opportunity to exercise my materialistic tendancies. Additionally, there is very little storage in my apartment. Unfortunately, if one is considered good at packing, then inherently that person becomes a good pack rat. It's amazing how I've managed to accumulate little boxes and baskets that store knick nacks of all sorts that I used to think were really important to keep.
My closet has been the biggest surprise. It is only the size of a coat closet, but somehow I have managed to make it contain (aside from clothes) a suitcase, several rolls of gift wrap and a box of ribbons, a comforter, a quilt, a blanket, 4 sets of towels, 6 sets of sheets, an old box of files, my checkbooks for the last 6 years, 2 pairs of boots, a lacrosse stick, a tennis racket, a bag of worthless paper items, 2 halloween wigs, 4 ceramic sculptures I did in high school but still cannot bare to part with, and a box containing a car stereo and speakers. There's other stuff to but I think you get the point. It dawns on me that I am a bit of a pack rat.
Anyway, the point is that I am really tired from 2 days straight of this, but it's like a drug I can't stop. Passing any lingering item while walking from one room to another will just make me stop in my tracks and tackle it. I guess it's better than procrastinating.
November 06, 2005
You Mean.... I'm Nice?
How evil are you?
It's hard to believe that someone who gets dramatic over the odor of urine at her doorstep can be classified as "Angelic."
November 04, 2005
Pissed On My Parade
I am very glad to say that someone has pissed on my parade.
In my last post, I announced the "End of an Era." I shared the bittersweet feelings I had about moving out of the apartment I have inhabited for the last 9 years. Nine years!
After parking my car this evening, I headed to The Gate that separates My Home from its actual location in The Haight Ashbury. This is The Gate that creates an oasis every time I step through it. Case in point: this evening, within 5 yards of arriving at The Gate, I smelled urine. And as I approached, the smell got stronger. That's right, People, someone had decided that a little nook between my building and the next one over is the perfect place to relieve oneself. Even passing through The Gate and advancing on the porch steps did not alleviate the foul odor.
So when I got inside the front door, I breathed a sigh of relief. Relief not only of being past the portico, which smells so horrendous, but that this will be one of the last times I have to do so. As days pass and packing begins, bitter starts to separate from sweet, and I am growing more excited about the new location.
In my last post, I announced the "End of an Era." I shared the bittersweet feelings I had about moving out of the apartment I have inhabited for the last 9 years. Nine years!
After parking my car this evening, I headed to The Gate that separates My Home from its actual location in The Haight Ashbury. This is The Gate that creates an oasis every time I step through it. Case in point: this evening, within 5 yards of arriving at The Gate, I smelled urine. And as I approached, the smell got stronger. That's right, People, someone had decided that a little nook between my building and the next one over is the perfect place to relieve oneself. Even passing through The Gate and advancing on the porch steps did not alleviate the foul odor.
So when I got inside the front door, I breathed a sigh of relief. Relief not only of being past the portico, which smells so horrendous, but that this will be one of the last times I have to do so. As days pass and packing begins, bitter starts to separate from sweet, and I am growing more excited about the new location.
November 02, 2005
The End of an Era
I'm moving! I'm moving!
After 9 years living in the same apartment, I'm cutting the cord. It's not that I want to, but budget confirms I have to.
One the one hand I am really sad. There are so many good memories from this place, and what is happening is like closing a really big chapter. I'm also downsizing, so the majority of my furniture has to go. And I do mean the majority! Let's just say the new place will be very zen and sparse. Otherwise, I don't think I'll be able to move from Bed to Bath at all.
I'll miss being close to Golden Gate Park, and I'll miss being around authentic people. After all this time I now know a lot of my neighbors and local businessmen. How will I know who to trust with my drycleaning?? Who else will give me a "neighborhood discount? "
On the other hand, of course, I'm a little excited. Finally getting out of The Haight. Away from the riff-raff of homeless runaway kids, of drugged out guys in their 60's who are STILL HERE from the '60's, away from the 2am bar-closing noise, the marked signs of vomit on the sidewalk, the smells of people living in the streets, the loonies, the tourists, etc etc. I just hope all of the plastic people in the new neighborhood will be tolerable. Yes, Little Los Angeles is where I'm headed, otherwise known as The Marina. Sorry folks, no room for guests. Or parties. But if you want some cozy one on one time with me, you got it!
After 9 years living in the same apartment, I'm cutting the cord. It's not that I want to, but budget confirms I have to.
One the one hand I am really sad. There are so many good memories from this place, and what is happening is like closing a really big chapter. I'm also downsizing, so the majority of my furniture has to go. And I do mean the majority! Let's just say the new place will be very zen and sparse. Otherwise, I don't think I'll be able to move from Bed to Bath at all.
I'll miss being close to Golden Gate Park, and I'll miss being around authentic people. After all this time I now know a lot of my neighbors and local businessmen. How will I know who to trust with my drycleaning?? Who else will give me a "neighborhood discount? "
On the other hand, of course, I'm a little excited. Finally getting out of The Haight. Away from the riff-raff of homeless runaway kids, of drugged out guys in their 60's who are STILL HERE from the '60's, away from the 2am bar-closing noise, the marked signs of vomit on the sidewalk, the smells of people living in the streets, the loonies, the tourists, etc etc. I just hope all of the plastic people in the new neighborhood will be tolerable. Yes, Little Los Angeles is where I'm headed, otherwise known as The Marina. Sorry folks, no room for guests. Or parties. But if you want some cozy one on one time with me, you got it!
October 31, 2005
Take That, Arnold Schwarzenwhatever!
For all you out-of-staters who are jealous we Californians have such a cool Governor, you should know that Arny, aside from creating movie-style PR opportunities for himself (like the time he ordered city workers to dig a pothole, so that he could stand in front of it and promote the fact that California's potholes are getting filled), also pushed a very expensive Special Election on us To! Save! California!
In Arny's eyes, these issues are A Matter of Life and Death to California's Budget Problems! To be honest, now that I have read the ballot issues, I can't for the life of me see why they are so urgent that they require our tax dollars to bring them to light right now. Therefore, in an assertive effort to throw a proverbial "Fuck You" to the Gov for spending what little money we have: I will vote on every issue except those that are part of the Special Election. Who knew I was into abstinence?
"What the hell will that do," you ask. For some reason, my political philosophies always seem to hinge on the fact that I think there is always post-election analysis. Tiny little men in glasses who crunch and crunch and crunch the myriad of ratios and percentages offered in our racially, financially diverse land of the multi-party system. Future agendas, political platforms, and demographic solicitations, in my opinion, all stem from these analyses. So my hope, my hope here, is that the Gov will hear something akin to this in post-election wrap-up:
"The Special Election showed embarrassingly low voter turnout, less than 7% of California residents voted on Props x, x, or x, while 77% voted on non-Special Election issues. Voting officials say this is the lowest turnout for a non-presidential-election in the history of California. All Propositions related to the Special Election were opposed and therefore, the millions of dollars of expense to Californians for the Governer's agenda, were unfortunately moot."
Yeah! Take that!
In Arny's eyes, these issues are A Matter of Life and Death to California's Budget Problems! To be honest, now that I have read the ballot issues, I can't for the life of me see why they are so urgent that they require our tax dollars to bring them to light right now. Therefore, in an assertive effort to throw a proverbial "Fuck You" to the Gov for spending what little money we have: I will vote on every issue except those that are part of the Special Election. Who knew I was into abstinence?
"What the hell will that do," you ask. For some reason, my political philosophies always seem to hinge on the fact that I think there is always post-election analysis. Tiny little men in glasses who crunch and crunch and crunch the myriad of ratios and percentages offered in our racially, financially diverse land of the multi-party system. Future agendas, political platforms, and demographic solicitations, in my opinion, all stem from these analyses. So my hope, my hope here, is that the Gov will hear something akin to this in post-election wrap-up:
"The Special Election showed embarrassingly low voter turnout, less than 7% of California residents voted on Props x, x, or x, while 77% voted on non-Special Election issues. Voting officials say this is the lowest turnout for a non-presidential-election in the history of California. All Propositions related to the Special Election were opposed and therefore, the millions of dollars of expense to Californians for the Governer's agenda, were unfortunately moot."
Yeah! Take that!
October 19, 2005
What the...?
What the...? What the hell time is it? 3:08!! Geez! What the hell am I doing up? I have an 8:45 meeting!!! Goodnight.
October 18, 2005
Musings on San Francisco's Selfish Culture
For a city which is internationally known as a community of concerned activists for every known cause, and then some, there is certainly a large degree of selfishness that runs rampant. Let's just take a look at a few of them:
A lot of the selfishness occurs on the streets, literally, in the manner with which auto drivers and pedestrians tend to feel that they own the roads:
Parking: Now, it's a known fact that parking in San Francisco is a virtual nightmare. Sometimes it takes me 40 minutes to park in my neighborhood, after circling the same streets over and over; and at the end of that 40 minutes, I end up in a spot that requires me to move the car by 8 am the next morning for street cleaning. And the reason for this is... Selfish Parking:
1. Some people either know they suck at parallel parking or they feel their cars are more precious than all of the others, and thus when they park they leave entirely too much space between their cars and those around them. Hey People! If everyone would just park properly, we'd add a few more spaces every block! How cool would that be if we all looked out for each other like that!!
2. Some people drive motorcycles. Not only do I think that's HOT, I also appreciate that they alleviate congestion on the roads. But BIKERS, PLEASE! Don't fucking park your bike in the middle of a car-sized spot!! You already get to bypass traffic, do you really need to spite us by eliminating parking as well?
Double Parking: I'll be the first to admit, due to problem (A) above, I'm a BIG FAN of double parking. You out-of-towners have to keep in mind that there are a significant amount of hills in San Francisco, and if one is schlepping anything slightly heavy, with the wind blowing and the moisture of the fog stripping the the make-up off one's face while one practically rolls down a hill in high heels, you will find double parking to unload and quickly get into comfortable shoes before searching endlessly for some crazy-ass-90-degrees-steep parallel parking mission, is the superior option. However, there are some streets where this is okay, and some streets where it is absolutely selfish:
1. It's a one-way main thorough-fare. Some streets in San Francisco, lo and behold! - are meant to move autos rapidly from one point to another. That means that the streets are 3 lanes wide in one direction and that the stop lights are timed to allow autos to smoothly green-light it at 35mph to the other side of town, or, to another street with similar flow in another direction. People, please don't double park in one of these lanes! It creates a merging bottleneck, road rage for those that don't want to let people merge, and doesn't allow the green-light flow. Is it too much to ask that you double park on the next side street that isn't as busy and walk a half a block?
2. Parking with hazards on before 6pm is another problem for these streets. During commute hours, the 3 lane streets become No Parking zones, and allow a 4th lane to ease the congestion and continue the whole process of moving people quickly to the other side of town. So what do the selfish people do? They pull into a desired spot RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEIR BUILDING, and put their hazard lights on from 5:35 until 6pm. Yes, people, they sit in their cars (lest it gets towed for illegal parking) for 25 minutes and the result is the same as above. You know what, selfish hazard-light people? Fuck you!
As you can see, with a bit of awareness and consideration for others can spare a lot of San Franciscans from undue high blood pressure.
However, people with cars are not the only street problem. The other is Pedestrians. And let me tell you, they can really screw up the flow:
1. Chinatown. Chinatown in San Francisco is no joke. It is a real and large community and is the heartbeat of SF's Asian-American population. I have absolutely no problem with the fact that Chinatown has such a heartbeat, in fact, it is one of the many things that I appreciate about living here. But its visitors are so many that they simply cannot get across the street in time for the stop light to change. I am not kidding. San Francisco's authorities need to adjust the light times to accomodate the amount of people crossing the street, or someone is going to get killed.
2. General slow walkers: I'm sorry, I may seem like an ugly person for saying this, but there are certain types of people that cross the street in a manner just to fuck with us. Intentional lollygaggers. The pedestrian lights in SF actually count down how many seconds you have until crossing the street is no longer an option, and there are some entirely self-consumed people that just don't care that they only have 3 seconds left before the light turns red. They go anyway, and they take their time. They come from all backgrounds and take their time for a myriad of their own selfish reasons. But again, someone can get killed like that. And for the drivers, who are already frustrated, who are being impeded by your lollygagging, you're not helping our health out either.
OK, so by now you just think I'm the female version of Mario Andretti. But I can assure you that there are other selfish acts in San Francisco happening all the time:
1. The sidewalk/aisle hog: I cannot tell you how many times I have been minding my own business and not taking up much space and helping the general FLOW of life, in which I have been bumped or shrugged or moved out of the way by someone taking up way too much space. Like 2 people walking down the sidelwalk but taking up the whole thing, so much so that I have to gutter myself or purposely hard-shoulder them into awareness. Am I invisible? I mean, shit, I am not Paris Hilton, but I am not some spry piece of a person barely existing. Share, people, share! Be aware. And that goes for the aisles in the grocery store too. Really, I don't take up too much space, why should you?
2. Ladies First - Not: Maybe it's due to the incredible melting pot of diversity here, maybe it's our liberal stand, or maybe it's just because people are simply self-consumed, but there is no chivalry here. Rarely is a door opened for a woman or an elder, rarely does a man exiting a building at the same time a woman is entering step out of the way to let her pass. One of my girlfriends told me once that the trick is to look him in the eye and stand your ground, but I can assure you that rarely works. Even with an added smile. Come on! I am all for equality but every woman needs to feel a little bit a lady. So for you few and random strangers and friends that actually DO make that happen, thank you. For you others, you'll never be a Craigslist Missed Connection if you don't.
On a final note, I'd like to consider myself one of the considerate and aware. You've probably already gathered that. However, I can tell you it's very, very tiring. In this self-absorbed culture, one's consideration for others is rarely noticed or appreciated. Which, in fact, makes it even more difficult to NOT fall into the hard cold selfish cycle: "I did consider that person, and that person didn't even notice or appreciate it, so why bother?" That is why, when someone does hold a door open, or let my car merge in, I always say thank you. I hope it is enough of a lift for those people to continue on in their polite endeavors. I certainly hope so, because, as I said, going unappreciated is very tiring.
A lot of the selfishness occurs on the streets, literally, in the manner with which auto drivers and pedestrians tend to feel that they own the roads:
Parking: Now, it's a known fact that parking in San Francisco is a virtual nightmare. Sometimes it takes me 40 minutes to park in my neighborhood, after circling the same streets over and over; and at the end of that 40 minutes, I end up in a spot that requires me to move the car by 8 am the next morning for street cleaning. And the reason for this is... Selfish Parking:
1. Some people either know they suck at parallel parking or they feel their cars are more precious than all of the others, and thus when they park they leave entirely too much space between their cars and those around them. Hey People! If everyone would just park properly, we'd add a few more spaces every block! How cool would that be if we all looked out for each other like that!!
2. Some people drive motorcycles. Not only do I think that's HOT, I also appreciate that they alleviate congestion on the roads. But BIKERS, PLEASE! Don't fucking park your bike in the middle of a car-sized spot!! You already get to bypass traffic, do you really need to spite us by eliminating parking as well?
Double Parking: I'll be the first to admit, due to problem (A) above, I'm a BIG FAN of double parking. You out-of-towners have to keep in mind that there are a significant amount of hills in San Francisco, and if one is schlepping anything slightly heavy, with the wind blowing and the moisture of the fog stripping the the make-up off one's face while one practically rolls down a hill in high heels, you will find double parking to unload and quickly get into comfortable shoes before searching endlessly for some crazy-ass-90-degrees-steep parallel parking mission, is the superior option. However, there are some streets where this is okay, and some streets where it is absolutely selfish:
1. It's a one-way main thorough-fare. Some streets in San Francisco, lo and behold! - are meant to move autos rapidly from one point to another. That means that the streets are 3 lanes wide in one direction and that the stop lights are timed to allow autos to smoothly green-light it at 35mph to the other side of town, or, to another street with similar flow in another direction. People, please don't double park in one of these lanes! It creates a merging bottleneck, road rage for those that don't want to let people merge, and doesn't allow the green-light flow. Is it too much to ask that you double park on the next side street that isn't as busy and walk a half a block?
2. Parking with hazards on before 6pm is another problem for these streets. During commute hours, the 3 lane streets become No Parking zones, and allow a 4th lane to ease the congestion and continue the whole process of moving people quickly to the other side of town. So what do the selfish people do? They pull into a desired spot RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEIR BUILDING, and put their hazard lights on from 5:35 until 6pm. Yes, people, they sit in their cars (lest it gets towed for illegal parking) for 25 minutes and the result is the same as above. You know what, selfish hazard-light people? Fuck you!
As you can see, with a bit of awareness and consideration for others can spare a lot of San Franciscans from undue high blood pressure.
However, people with cars are not the only street problem. The other is Pedestrians. And let me tell you, they can really screw up the flow:
1. Chinatown. Chinatown in San Francisco is no joke. It is a real and large community and is the heartbeat of SF's Asian-American population. I have absolutely no problem with the fact that Chinatown has such a heartbeat, in fact, it is one of the many things that I appreciate about living here. But its visitors are so many that they simply cannot get across the street in time for the stop light to change. I am not kidding. San Francisco's authorities need to adjust the light times to accomodate the amount of people crossing the street, or someone is going to get killed.
2. General slow walkers: I'm sorry, I may seem like an ugly person for saying this, but there are certain types of people that cross the street in a manner just to fuck with us. Intentional lollygaggers. The pedestrian lights in SF actually count down how many seconds you have until crossing the street is no longer an option, and there are some entirely self-consumed people that just don't care that they only have 3 seconds left before the light turns red. They go anyway, and they take their time. They come from all backgrounds and take their time for a myriad of their own selfish reasons. But again, someone can get killed like that. And for the drivers, who are already frustrated, who are being impeded by your lollygagging, you're not helping our health out either.
OK, so by now you just think I'm the female version of Mario Andretti. But I can assure you that there are other selfish acts in San Francisco happening all the time:
1. The sidewalk/aisle hog: I cannot tell you how many times I have been minding my own business and not taking up much space and helping the general FLOW of life, in which I have been bumped or shrugged or moved out of the way by someone taking up way too much space. Like 2 people walking down the sidelwalk but taking up the whole thing, so much so that I have to gutter myself or purposely hard-shoulder them into awareness. Am I invisible? I mean, shit, I am not Paris Hilton, but I am not some spry piece of a person barely existing. Share, people, share! Be aware. And that goes for the aisles in the grocery store too. Really, I don't take up too much space, why should you?
2. Ladies First - Not: Maybe it's due to the incredible melting pot of diversity here, maybe it's our liberal stand, or maybe it's just because people are simply self-consumed, but there is no chivalry here. Rarely is a door opened for a woman or an elder, rarely does a man exiting a building at the same time a woman is entering step out of the way to let her pass. One of my girlfriends told me once that the trick is to look him in the eye and stand your ground, but I can assure you that rarely works. Even with an added smile. Come on! I am all for equality but every woman needs to feel a little bit a lady. So for you few and random strangers and friends that actually DO make that happen, thank you. For you others, you'll never be a Craigslist Missed Connection if you don't.
On a final note, I'd like to consider myself one of the considerate and aware. You've probably already gathered that. However, I can tell you it's very, very tiring. In this self-absorbed culture, one's consideration for others is rarely noticed or appreciated. Which, in fact, makes it even more difficult to NOT fall into the hard cold selfish cycle: "I did consider that person, and that person didn't even notice or appreciate it, so why bother?" That is why, when someone does hold a door open, or let my car merge in, I always say thank you. I hope it is enough of a lift for those people to continue on in their polite endeavors. I certainly hope so, because, as I said, going unappreciated is very tiring.
October 12, 2005
I Hate It I Hate It I Hate It!
I am in agony here, on many physical levels.
I strained my sacral ilium. Know what that is? That's my butt. Right butt cheek, to be exact. Not so good for someone about to run 13 miles.
The answer, from Mr. Sports Medicine Doc, is an anti-inflamatory. Seems easy enough, but I'd almost prefer the pain in my ass. Two pills a day, and must, I quote: "MUST be taken with food." So I take them with food. Immediately I get shooting pains like my stomach lining is ripping out. To rationalize, I try to imagine how bad it would be if I actually didn't heed the warning and had taken them WITHOUT food. Man.
Next: extreme upset stomach. So, the food I have just eaten, to soften the blow of this apparant poison disguised as an anti-inflamatory, is not taking the mix so well. I went to 2 parties last night and couldn't enjoy either one what with the running to the bathroom.
Because of the impending discomfort, I don't eat throughout the day, as I know it will only upset my stomach further and lead to a life in the WC. As dosage time looms, I recoil even more from it all. I am starving with an upset stomach and the lining is ripping out and I know that eating and taking more pills will only continue this horrible cycle.
I feel so sick...so sick...honestly, I can't express it... and I'm hungry..so hungry... yeah, I'd definitely prefer the pain in my ass...
I strained my sacral ilium. Know what that is? That's my butt. Right butt cheek, to be exact. Not so good for someone about to run 13 miles.
The answer, from Mr. Sports Medicine Doc, is an anti-inflamatory. Seems easy enough, but I'd almost prefer the pain in my ass. Two pills a day, and must, I quote: "MUST be taken with food." So I take them with food. Immediately I get shooting pains like my stomach lining is ripping out. To rationalize, I try to imagine how bad it would be if I actually didn't heed the warning and had taken them WITHOUT food. Man.
Next: extreme upset stomach. So, the food I have just eaten, to soften the blow of this apparant poison disguised as an anti-inflamatory, is not taking the mix so well. I went to 2 parties last night and couldn't enjoy either one what with the running to the bathroom.
Because of the impending discomfort, I don't eat throughout the day, as I know it will only upset my stomach further and lead to a life in the WC. As dosage time looms, I recoil even more from it all. I am starving with an upset stomach and the lining is ripping out and I know that eating and taking more pills will only continue this horrible cycle.
I feel so sick...so sick...honestly, I can't express it... and I'm hungry..so hungry... yeah, I'd definitely prefer the pain in my ass...
October 11, 2005
Fuddy Duddies and Wet Rags
Two parties tonight - like I said, it's Event Season!
First up was the Centennial bash for my Association. B-O-R-I-N-G. Among the fuddy duddies and the shrimp and oysters, Mr. Most Eligible Mayor came down and gave us some canned speach that seemed geared toward some other crowd. Quite frankly, as handsome as he is, his speach didn't make a damn bit of sense.
Second party was the Pool Toss, an acclaimed SF Benefit where local celebs are auctioned off to the highest bidder to be thrown into an outdoor pool at the Phoenix Hotel. With the stomach upset (see above post), I was at this point in no mood to be standing outside in 57 degree weather to not drink and to watch people throw thousands of dollars toward a good cause. Unfortunate, I know. Especially when I didn't enjoy all of the lacrosse players in just their trunks.
The two bonuses of the Pool Toss were (in ranking order): 1) One of the volunteering "tossees," a current NFL football player for who knows what team, in direct response to being disrobed by models, turns to the crowd in his scivvees complete with erection! Ha ha ha. Well done. 2) being chatted up by the SF Chron's most recently "volunteered" into early retirement Editor, Ken Garcia. (Apparantly, without alcohol in me, I was a boring conversationalist, as he didn't chat me up for long.)
One more event and I think the season is done. I'm tired; so is my Event Season wardrobe, and I'm just getting ready to ignore Halloween.
First up was the Centennial bash for my Association. B-O-R-I-N-G. Among the fuddy duddies and the shrimp and oysters, Mr. Most Eligible Mayor came down and gave us some canned speach that seemed geared toward some other crowd. Quite frankly, as handsome as he is, his speach didn't make a damn bit of sense.
Second party was the Pool Toss, an acclaimed SF Benefit where local celebs are auctioned off to the highest bidder to be thrown into an outdoor pool at the Phoenix Hotel. With the stomach upset (see above post), I was at this point in no mood to be standing outside in 57 degree weather to not drink and to watch people throw thousands of dollars toward a good cause. Unfortunate, I know. Especially when I didn't enjoy all of the lacrosse players in just their trunks.
The two bonuses of the Pool Toss were (in ranking order): 1) One of the volunteering "tossees," a current NFL football player for who knows what team, in direct response to being disrobed by models, turns to the crowd in his scivvees complete with erection! Ha ha ha. Well done. 2) being chatted up by the SF Chron's most recently "volunteered" into early retirement Editor, Ken Garcia. (Apparantly, without alcohol in me, I was a boring conversationalist, as he didn't chat me up for long.)
One more event and I think the season is done. I'm tired; so is my Event Season wardrobe, and I'm just getting ready to ignore Halloween.
October 07, 2005
Flying High
For those of you who don't live in San Francisco, it's now "summer." And summer means Event Season.
So, not only do we have the nice weather (finally!! tank tops!!), but we have a shit load of activities to occupy our weeknights and weekends.
Last weekend was the Bluegrass festival with headliner... Dolly Parton! Woo hoo! I didn't go. And! Shakespeare in the Park! I didn't go to that either.
This weekend we have a very patriotic show for everyone, that's right... The Blue Angels! The most acrobatic of the US Airforce! Go Blue and Gold! It sounds like there's a WAR going on over here!
Last night I went to a 7x7 Magazine (SF is 7x7 sq miles) party at the W hotel. Awesome. All photo ops that I didn't get asked to participate in. Hmm. The party was great but too loud, so I know I am getting old. They cut the booz at 10:30, I saw them closing up the bars, left winggirl WR for a moment and pretended to be on my mobile while I sneekily swiped 2 Heinekens before they carted all the alcohol away. We spent 8 minutes pillaging our purses for something adequate to use as a bottle opener. I kept hitting my beer bottle on the table edge with no success. Finally we just asked a guy cleaning up for an opener - he didn't care they weren't serving anymore. After all, how much havoc are 2 way too sober girls like us gonna do?
The videographer was a high school alumn of mine who introduced his cute blonde "associate" to us at the beginning of the night. He stopped by as we were finishing our Heinekens and told us he was looking for the afterparty, would let us know. Later he took my card and told us we'd all get together to have a video watch party. THEN! Then he told us he was married (no ring) to his "associate." WTF, man, WTF?? Not that I was even slightly interested, but if you film celeb weddings for Courtney Cox (now Cox Arquette) and the like, you better tell people you're married. And wear a ring, for crying out loud. Poor "associate."
Our handsome, young and recently single Mayor Gavin Newsom, who is on the fast track to Mr. President (except for his unabashadley nonconservative pro-gay-marriage stance), showed up at the magazine party, and was hanging for most of the night. Lots of girls talking to SF's newest Most Eligible Bachelor. People taking pics. He's such a non-Kennedy Kennedy. I am going to a black-tie gala Friday night where he will be doing the opening speach, and he will also be at the City Hall reception that my centennial committee is having on Tues night for our association, so I will be at 3 functions with SF's MEB in less than a week. I doubt he'll notice.
On a final note, I'm finally getting into "The Club." As in, the only private club (er, maybe the only publicized private club) in San Francisco. Got invited to a birthday party at Otis. Very excited to see how pretentious everyone will pretend to be. More importantly, how do I go to a magazine party, a black-tie event, a wedding, a Centennial reception I'm hosting AND a private club with only 4 dresses in the closet????
So, not only do we have the nice weather (finally!! tank tops!!), but we have a shit load of activities to occupy our weeknights and weekends.
Last weekend was the Bluegrass festival with headliner... Dolly Parton! Woo hoo! I didn't go. And! Shakespeare in the Park! I didn't go to that either.
This weekend we have a very patriotic show for everyone, that's right... The Blue Angels! The most acrobatic of the US Airforce! Go Blue and Gold! It sounds like there's a WAR going on over here!
Last night I went to a 7x7 Magazine (SF is 7x7 sq miles) party at the W hotel. Awesome. All photo ops that I didn't get asked to participate in. Hmm. The party was great but too loud, so I know I am getting old. They cut the booz at 10:30, I saw them closing up the bars, left winggirl WR for a moment and pretended to be on my mobile while I sneekily swiped 2 Heinekens before they carted all the alcohol away. We spent 8 minutes pillaging our purses for something adequate to use as a bottle opener. I kept hitting my beer bottle on the table edge with no success. Finally we just asked a guy cleaning up for an opener - he didn't care they weren't serving anymore. After all, how much havoc are 2 way too sober girls like us gonna do?
The videographer was a high school alumn of mine who introduced his cute blonde "associate" to us at the beginning of the night. He stopped by as we were finishing our Heinekens and told us he was looking for the afterparty, would let us know. Later he took my card and told us we'd all get together to have a video watch party. THEN! Then he told us he was married (no ring) to his "associate." WTF, man, WTF?? Not that I was even slightly interested, but if you film celeb weddings for Courtney Cox (now Cox Arquette) and the like, you better tell people you're married. And wear a ring, for crying out loud. Poor "associate."
Our handsome, young and recently single Mayor Gavin Newsom, who is on the fast track to Mr. President (except for his unabashadley nonconservative pro-gay-marriage stance), showed up at the magazine party, and was hanging for most of the night. Lots of girls talking to SF's newest Most Eligible Bachelor. People taking pics. He's such a non-Kennedy Kennedy. I am going to a black-tie gala Friday night where he will be doing the opening speach, and he will also be at the City Hall reception that my centennial committee is having on Tues night for our association, so I will be at 3 functions with SF's MEB in less than a week. I doubt he'll notice.
On a final note, I'm finally getting into "The Club." As in, the only private club (er, maybe the only publicized private club) in San Francisco. Got invited to a birthday party at Otis. Very excited to see how pretentious everyone will pretend to be. More importantly, how do I go to a magazine party, a black-tie event, a wedding, a Centennial reception I'm hosting AND a private club with only 4 dresses in the closet????
September 28, 2005
I'm "Lost"
I don't get it. On the show "Lost," the men never shave, their hair never grows, the fat guy isn't losing weight, and the flashlights never run out of batteries. For these reasons alone I have a REALLY hard time with the show.
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