Well you can rest easy People. I won't be blaring the fact that I am 32 to you anymore. Because I'm 33 as of Saturday.
And I have something to report! I am OUT OF SHAPE! Holy cow I am out of shape. I could never have imagined I am actually this out of shape. The proof? Surfing. I went surfing for 1 hour (count them: 60 measley minutes) for my birthday. Fun, small waves, easy for a beginner. And my upper body is d e a d. Sunday was excruciating whenever I used my arms (try going a full day without using your arms ha ha ha). By today, I can manage better but I am still sore.
It's funny that I can run 7 miles without much difficulty but after an hour of paddling myself to and fro on a floating board I can't seem to lift my arms higher than my collar bone. So now, on top of beginning my training for a half marathon (Nike Women's Marathon), I will start some upper body workout. Maybe surfing. After all, you obviously have no idea how hard you are working out until the next day!
June 27, 2005
June 24, 2005
For You
For those of you that offered spiritual and emotional support, and those who are always sending me ESP wishes for success, thank you! You'll be happy to know that I am back to myself and feeling great! And tomorrow I have a surf lesson!
June 21, 2005
Cracking
I have a tough facade. Unbreakable. But lately I have begun to crack.
Mounting pressures of a flailing business venture, my best friend and closest confidant in a far-away land, and feeling for the first time in my social but alone life very much alone, today I was feeling close to the bottom. Since I can't afford a day at a retreat spa, complete with Swedish massage and windchimes in the vacuous hot air of Napa Valley, I decided to throw on my sneakers and walk 3 miles to the ocean.
Chatting on the phone with a friend on the way there, I finally, at the end of the conversation, began to let someone other than my soul sister know the pressure I have been under. But then I remembered that on the other end of the line was not only my friend, but a mother of a 5 month old baby who was starting to prepare dinner for her family. So with a wobbly voice and strong "OK!" I let her go.
I walked around the bend and there was the ocean, huge and sparkling and swelling beyond the retaining wall. It enveloped my entire vision, and then it blurred with salty tears. I couldn't wait to sit on the beach and reflect, let it out, compose myself.
But I couldn't do anything but sit. There were other people on the beach. Basically, there was no place I could go on that span of sand where no one else was. When you're looking for a quiet place for introspection, having high school lovers near you and happy naive children in front of you screaming at the chasing waves, it's just not possible. So after an hour of trying really hard not to see anyone else, and only crying an iota of the amount required to feel better, I began my walk back.
Trudging through the park my eyes were burdened and tingly with un-released tears. My mouth in permanent frown, jaw tight, brow furrowed. The ocean hadn't calmed me. I would spot a lush reclusive area and consider just sitting there, but then I would think it's still too close to the noisy road, and if I went deeper into the park I'd be killed by the homeless clans that live in the park's depths. I trudged on.
Then something ridiculous happened. I walked under a sprawling canopy of pine trees filled with cawing crows. Ahead of me a few feet was a crow in the grass, and he was looking intently at the ground while talking to his friend in the tree. His friend would answer back. I watched the crow on the ground to try to figure out what he was looking at, and decided he was fighting with a gopher over something to eat and his friend in the tree was giving him advice.
A few yards later I realized that my eyes didn't feel burdened anymore and my mood was slightly lifted. And I whirled with amazement inside because all I had done was watch a stupid crow. And that whirling lifted my spirits even higher. I felt like chatting with the woman walking ahead of me. I realized the early evening sun was still warm on my back and the wind, that incessant summer wind, had died. I breathed deep and was me again.
Mounting pressures of a flailing business venture, my best friend and closest confidant in a far-away land, and feeling for the first time in my social but alone life very much alone, today I was feeling close to the bottom. Since I can't afford a day at a retreat spa, complete with Swedish massage and windchimes in the vacuous hot air of Napa Valley, I decided to throw on my sneakers and walk 3 miles to the ocean.
Chatting on the phone with a friend on the way there, I finally, at the end of the conversation, began to let someone other than my soul sister know the pressure I have been under. But then I remembered that on the other end of the line was not only my friend, but a mother of a 5 month old baby who was starting to prepare dinner for her family. So with a wobbly voice and strong "OK!" I let her go.
I walked around the bend and there was the ocean, huge and sparkling and swelling beyond the retaining wall. It enveloped my entire vision, and then it blurred with salty tears. I couldn't wait to sit on the beach and reflect, let it out, compose myself.
But I couldn't do anything but sit. There were other people on the beach. Basically, there was no place I could go on that span of sand where no one else was. When you're looking for a quiet place for introspection, having high school lovers near you and happy naive children in front of you screaming at the chasing waves, it's just not possible. So after an hour of trying really hard not to see anyone else, and only crying an iota of the amount required to feel better, I began my walk back.
Trudging through the park my eyes were burdened and tingly with un-released tears. My mouth in permanent frown, jaw tight, brow furrowed. The ocean hadn't calmed me. I would spot a lush reclusive area and consider just sitting there, but then I would think it's still too close to the noisy road, and if I went deeper into the park I'd be killed by the homeless clans that live in the park's depths. I trudged on.
Then something ridiculous happened. I walked under a sprawling canopy of pine trees filled with cawing crows. Ahead of me a few feet was a crow in the grass, and he was looking intently at the ground while talking to his friend in the tree. His friend would answer back. I watched the crow on the ground to try to figure out what he was looking at, and decided he was fighting with a gopher over something to eat and his friend in the tree was giving him advice.
A few yards later I realized that my eyes didn't feel burdened anymore and my mood was slightly lifted. And I whirled with amazement inside because all I had done was watch a stupid crow. And that whirling lifted my spirits even higher. I felt like chatting with the woman walking ahead of me. I realized the early evening sun was still warm on my back and the wind, that incessant summer wind, had died. I breathed deep and was me again.
June 16, 2005
For the Sake of a Laugh
Aaah, San Francisco. Sometimes we residents think it is the closest to a European city this side of the Atlantic. We love that. Other times (after walking down Haight Street days before the Haight Street Fair, for example) we feel we live in a metropolitan toilet.
But! The Saving Grace! The Saving Grace is our city's finest party. SO big it's only put on every 2 years. Yes, People, I am talking about the Black & White Ball. With a high ticket price and a "who's who" list of attendees, it's a party that rejuvinates the soul with hope, desire and history.
However. One of my favorite local blogs, the SFist, has just published photos of the event, which took place last weekend. Either the tickets got cheaper, or they gave some away for free, or I just don't know what's "in" anymore, because look what they provided: http://www.sfist.com/archives/2005/06/13/sfist_paints_the_city_black_and_white.php
Enjoy.
But! The Saving Grace! The Saving Grace is our city's finest party. SO big it's only put on every 2 years. Yes, People, I am talking about the Black & White Ball. With a high ticket price and a "who's who" list of attendees, it's a party that rejuvinates the soul with hope, desire and history.
However. One of my favorite local blogs, the SFist, has just published photos of the event, which took place last weekend. Either the tickets got cheaper, or they gave some away for free, or I just don't know what's "in" anymore, because look what they provided: http://www.sfist.com/archives/2005/06/13/sfist_paints_the_city_black_and_white.php
Enjoy.
June 15, 2005
Hibernation
It could be that San Francisco's summers are like winters. It could be depression. It could be anemia. But People, I am sleeping a lot lately. A LOT.
Case in point: Last night I went to bed at midnight. Set the alarm for 6:45 am. Did the typical "hit snooze a few times" routine, but dodged out on my morning plans and ended up sleeping until...gulp... 11:53 am! What! That's like 12 hours!
I will admit to a chronic anemia problem - since my teens. But if this is a result of anemia, it's certainly affecting my body differently at 32 than it did when diagnosed at 17 (and the many years I've had to maintain it since). I don't feel tired during the day. But now I can't live without at least 9 hours of sleep. More would be preferable. What the hell?
Please note that anemia is not related to bolemia. Anemia has to do with the red blood cell count in your blood, the cells that carry oxygen throughout your body. Have low red blood cells, have limbs falling asleep a lot, and have excessive physical tiredness (especially after working out).
But like I said, I don't seem to have the problem with the limbs, and I haven't been working out much. But then again, I haven't been taking my required iron supplements either. Think I'll do that now...
I'm certainly preferring that this is a biological problem and not the afore mentioned emotional problems. Although work (or lack thereof in my new "sales" job) has been frustrating, as has been the uber-long-distance relationship gig, I would like to think that I am not depressed, and I am not being affected by San Francisco's complete lack of summer-ness. Suffice it to say that I probably need therapy, even if it is just to reassure me that I am not emotionally distraught in any way, shape, or form.
Case in point: Last night I went to bed at midnight. Set the alarm for 6:45 am. Did the typical "hit snooze a few times" routine, but dodged out on my morning plans and ended up sleeping until...gulp... 11:53 am! What! That's like 12 hours!
I will admit to a chronic anemia problem - since my teens. But if this is a result of anemia, it's certainly affecting my body differently at 32 than it did when diagnosed at 17 (and the many years I've had to maintain it since). I don't feel tired during the day. But now I can't live without at least 9 hours of sleep. More would be preferable. What the hell?
Please note that anemia is not related to bolemia. Anemia has to do with the red blood cell count in your blood, the cells that carry oxygen throughout your body. Have low red blood cells, have limbs falling asleep a lot, and have excessive physical tiredness (especially after working out).
But like I said, I don't seem to have the problem with the limbs, and I haven't been working out much. But then again, I haven't been taking my required iron supplements either. Think I'll do that now...
I'm certainly preferring that this is a biological problem and not the afore mentioned emotional problems. Although work (or lack thereof in my new "sales" job) has been frustrating, as has been the uber-long-distance relationship gig, I would like to think that I am not depressed, and I am not being affected by San Francisco's complete lack of summer-ness. Suffice it to say that I probably need therapy, even if it is just to reassure me that I am not emotionally distraught in any way, shape, or form.
June 08, 2005
If You Were Here
If you were here, these are the things I would do:
I would wake up smiling
I would watch less TV
I would look for and try new recipes
(You would wash the dishes)
I would have background music on in the evenings
(You would do all the downloading)
I would make sure the apartment always looked nice
I would buy more sexy underwear
I would cuddle with you on the couch
I would go to bed early
(Hopefully you would too)
But you know what? I should do all that shit anyway. FOR ME.
I would wake up smiling
I would watch less TV
I would look for and try new recipes
(You would wash the dishes)
I would have background music on in the evenings
(You would do all the downloading)
I would make sure the apartment always looked nice
I would buy more sexy underwear
I would cuddle with you on the couch
I would go to bed early
(Hopefully you would too)
But you know what? I should do all that shit anyway. FOR ME.
Trista Can't Move
In an only-somewhat-shocking twist to America's latest reality "hit" Dancing With the Stars, Trista Sutter got booted. Being as she used to dance for the NBA's Miami Heat, it's amazing she is so *stiff.* Hence the "only-somewhat-shocking."
The biggest shocks of the night were that a) Rachel Hunter was in the bottom two and b) that Evander Holyfield is still competing.
The biggest shocks of the night were that a) Rachel Hunter was in the bottom two and b) that Evander Holyfield is still competing.
It's Nights Like This
Ahh... It's because of nights like this that one loves San Francisco. I got home, ragged from work, and checked my personal e-mail at 6:03 pm. A new message told me that a friend's husband had some of his photographs up at a funky coffee shop in SoMa, from 6-7:30 that night. Being new in the sales world and needing to make all the contacts I can, with a huge sigh I changed into something cuter and warmer and hopped on Muni to attend the event.
Well, it was nice to notice upon walking in that this "coffee shop" also had a full bar. Yum. Event appearing to be a good investment of time. The event got more and more delightful as the boisterous crowd dissipated, and I found out from the owner that he isn't normally open on that specific night. SWEET! As Un-Swank as it is, it's a Private Party. Love that.
Even though there weren't free drinks, the bartenders were nice. AND, this party by no means ended at 7:30. At about 8:15 or so, the owner closed the door and the unbelievable happened...he pulled out some little plates and started smoking INSIDE. Said he was tired of dealing with the wind tunnel outside. Then he said "feel free." Feel free! To smoke inside! The bar! That is currently closed to the public! Yeeee-ha!
For any of you that have followed the blog so far, yes, yes, I know smoking is bad. And I think about quitting a lot. Just haven't met the decisive point of when I will consciously make the decision to do so. Therefore, I had a f*ckg fabulous time that night.
The oddest part of the night was that I ended up being a bit of a celebrity. Apparently, my friend and her husband holding the show thought it was a nice piece of trivia that my dad used to shoot photos for Playboy back in the day, and as much as I clarified that it was mostly "editorial," I had quite a few men come up to me and shake my hand. Which is quite odd, actually. I don't know how they register it in their heads, but coming up to a young woman and saying "Hi, I'm Troy. I heard your dad used to take pictures for Playboy and I just wanted to introduce myself. Kudos" isn't something that one knows how to respond to. Seriously. Is "Thank you" the correct response?
May 26, 2005
Hey, What's My "World View?"
 | If I wasn't asked this question in the form of an online quiz, I would seriously contend that the questions posed would NOT result in my definition of what constitutes my World View. As an International Affairs major at university, I would have forwarded half these questions to the Philosophy Dept. I know if I was on a greater blog distribution, I'd get serious shit for saying that. However, I am quite happy with the tabulated result. Very much spot-on. Just take the damn test!
You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.
What is Your World View? (updated) created with QuizFarm.com |
May 25, 2005
Hypo-Chon-Dri-Ack!
I've admitted it to many people already, people both close to me and people who are practically strangers. But I'm a friggin' Hypochondrac.
My latest obsession is that I have sleep apnea. I can go into the so-called "sleep mode" and be there for 9 or 10 hours and still wake up exhausted. My dad snores like a bear, and before he was diagnosed with sleep apnea, he used to fall asleep at the wheel (I attributed that to the affair that I never proved he was having, but I digress). Thank goodness that this part of California doesn't have snow, so the lane-dividers are bumpy and can wake a person up. I've been told that I snore, but not like a bear. I've warned people of it before nodding off. I've even asked them to let me know if they heard any roars in the night. They say it didn't happen, or if it did, the were only soft roars.
My latest obsession is that I have sleep apnea. I can go into the so-called "sleep mode" and be there for 9 or 10 hours and still wake up exhausted. My dad snores like a bear, and before he was diagnosed with sleep apnea, he used to fall asleep at the wheel (I attributed that to the affair that I never proved he was having, but I digress). Thank goodness that this part of California doesn't have snow, so the lane-dividers are bumpy and can wake a person up. I've been told that I snore, but not like a bear. I've warned people of it before nodding off. I've even asked them to let me know if they heard any roars in the night. They say it didn't happen, or if it did, the were only soft roars.
Lately I have been plagued with allergies (thanks, Dad!), and as a self-diagnosed hypochondriac, as I fall to sleep I hear myself going there as if I am practicing rolling my "r's" in Spanish. Of course, hearing this, I cannot sleep, because I am checking to see if I am going to get enough oxygen to live through the night and thrive the next day. Often times at 2 am, I am ready to roll out of bed and see if I can get checked into Stanford Sleep Clinic. And then I allow myself to wander into places called " the to-do list" and "does he like me" and "this is what I'll do at work tomorrow" and "this is how my parents see me..." and slowly but surely I unknowingly grow unconscious.
And so it goes. Since I don't have unlimited funds, I am forced to throw "sleep apnea" onto the pile of piled-up terminal problems that my eternal soul has discovered in my terminal body. But that hasn't stopped me from eating like shit and smoking up a storm. Call it smart, call it stupid, call it blocking, call it what you want. Personally, I'd like to call on a personal physician. MRI please! MRI!
Bitte Anschlag With My Yahoo!
Hallo! Am I the ONLY ONE in the blogosphere getting TONS, LOADS of spam in German? They are not even coming to my blogspot.com e-mail address, so what the hell? I wouldn't mind spam in French or Spanish; at least then I could brush up on my slang. But I don't know any Germanic languages, so what's the deal? Just because I loved Run Lola Run and The Princess and The Warrior (same actress), I didn't think it would come back to me. So I'll spit out what I can, some odd form of a German command: "Bitte Anschlag with my Yahoo!"
May 24, 2005
Medium is... Well, Medium
OK People, I'll admit it. I DON'T GET NBC. Not "I don't get it" but - I am not ALLOWED to access NBC. Satellite fluke in SF Bay Area. Since I am such a TV addict, I know it is in my best interest NOT to have cable. And to NOT have cable in San Francisco means you don't have NBC. Period.
So yes, I miss Scrubs and ER and all of the Law & Orders, and more power to me. Not really. Instead (YES, NBC who is too lame to put a satellite closer to San Francisco) I watch crazy lame sh*t on UPN and The WB. Touche [with an accent over "e"], my friend, touche [repeat]. But to an addict's joy, I am now staying at my friend's apartment watching her cat, and yes, also her cable-provided NBC shows.
And all of the sudden I am glad I don't get NBC. Because I saw [what I think was] the finale [accent over the "e"] of 'Medium.'
Now, I've heard a lot of hype about this show, and I've even seen the Whichever-Arquette-who stars-in-it on some non-NBC late night television show. But tonight I saw the show, and it was FUCKING luke warm; it was MEDIUM. In other words: quite frankly, rather boring [slight Queen's English accent].
To sum it up, quite glad to be missing the NBC [English Cockney accent]. Quite jolly about that. Yes, Zach of Scrubs and Garden State fame is quite cute, but not worth the trouble of buying cable. Truly.
So yes, I miss Scrubs and ER and all of the Law & Orders, and more power to me. Not really. Instead (YES, NBC who is too lame to put a satellite closer to San Francisco) I watch crazy lame sh*t on UPN and The WB. Touche [with an accent over "e"], my friend, touche [repeat]. But to an addict's joy, I am now staying at my friend's apartment watching her cat, and yes, also her cable-provided NBC shows.
And all of the sudden I am glad I don't get NBC. Because I saw [what I think was] the finale [accent over the "e"] of 'Medium.'
Now, I've heard a lot of hype about this show, and I've even seen the Whichever-Arquette-who stars-in-it on some non-NBC late night television show. But tonight I saw the show, and it was FUCKING luke warm; it was MEDIUM. In other words: quite frankly, rather boring [slight Queen's English accent].
To sum it up, quite glad to be missing the NBC [English Cockney accent]. Quite jolly about that. Yes, Zach of Scrubs and Garden State fame is quite cute, but not worth the trouble of buying cable. Truly.
May 18, 2005
Who?
This is weird. I just got a birth announcement from some guy in Switzerland. I have no clue who he is (or his wife, for that matter). But apparantly I know him from Colorado, because a lot of my CU university pals are also on the distribution list.
May 17, 2005
The Fiddler's Got Me Thinkin'
I rented Fiddler on The Roof tonight. To get back to my roots, I guess. I have seen Yentl, but this movie was made before my time. The ironic part is that it's not only about Jewish tradition, but altering it as well.
So it's no surprise that, while watching the wedding scene, I began incorporating traditional Jewish songs into my wedding reception playlist. I even started considering how my mom and my Aunt and I can circle my betrothed before I am given away. And of course there is the breaking of the glass and the "Malzaltov!" to wrap things up.
But I don't even have a boyfriend, and for the umpteenth time I remember that girls are raised on fairy tales and love stories, and thus it's not difficult for me to start spinning a tale that may never come to fruition. What I do know is that I will be singing "matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, find me a keeper, catch me a catch!" for the next couple weeks.
Seems like Rifka the Fly (i.e. my late grandmother) has been spending a little too much time hovering around. Oy....
May 09, 2005
Momma's Chores
I'm exhausted. Mother's Day was all about Momma's Chores.
I had a "list" of things to do when I went to my folks' house; all in the name of LOVE. My mom has been the one that has been exhausted lately. ALL THE TIME. The bags under her eyes are Serious. SERIOUS, People. And I have been worried about her crankiness, if not a victim of it to boot.
She is waiting waiting waiting for retirement, you see... 2 years away. But this woman is incessant, instoppable, CONSTANT even, in her endeavors to always "get stuff done." Shred this, organize that... there is always something next on her plate. I've seen her on Sundays, after a weekend off, and she is MORE tired than on Fridays. I told her I didn't want to see her kill herself in the process of getting to retirement, 2 years away.
SO. What's a daughter to do but ease the load? Sometimes when I help I think we live in a 3rd world country. I'm gardening and composting and hand-washing and such. And then I really think about it: granted, she's a bit obsessive about filling her time, but life for my mom is all about family. Supporting each other is What We Do. She looks after me all the time, even when I don't want her to. SO! Bring on The List, Mom, I'm ready.
The nicest thing of the weekend was that on Monday my mom called me from work to report that, besides the hectic-ness of work, she was feeling relatively stress-free.
I celebrated my success in easing her schedule by spending $300 of her hard-earned money (which is fueling the start of my new career) buying clothes for myself in a 2-hour period (don't worry folks - I received a hefty tax return a couple weeks ago, so it's not really ALL hers. Well, yeah, I guess it is). The oddest part is, when I walked to the video store tonite after coming home from the SF Decorator's Showcase party, I was 'Walking On Sunshine.' I was starting to feel good. Really good. It's weird how a new cute polka-dot skirt can change your perspective. Or was doing something for my mom the thing that did it?
Even though it's past Mother's Day now, and beside the fact that I hate celebrating commecialized holidays, I wanted to tell those who are with me that Sunday (yeah, Mother's Day) was an absolute sucess. For all of us!
PS - you're welcome, Dad.
Cheers.
I had a "list" of things to do when I went to my folks' house; all in the name of LOVE. My mom has been the one that has been exhausted lately. ALL THE TIME. The bags under her eyes are Serious. SERIOUS, People. And I have been worried about her crankiness, if not a victim of it to boot.
She is waiting waiting waiting for retirement, you see... 2 years away. But this woman is incessant, instoppable, CONSTANT even, in her endeavors to always "get stuff done." Shred this, organize that... there is always something next on her plate. I've seen her on Sundays, after a weekend off, and she is MORE tired than on Fridays. I told her I didn't want to see her kill herself in the process of getting to retirement, 2 years away.
SO. What's a daughter to do but ease the load? Sometimes when I help I think we live in a 3rd world country. I'm gardening and composting and hand-washing and such. And then I really think about it: granted, she's a bit obsessive about filling her time, but life for my mom is all about family. Supporting each other is What We Do. She looks after me all the time, even when I don't want her to. SO! Bring on The List, Mom, I'm ready.
The nicest thing of the weekend was that on Monday my mom called me from work to report that, besides the hectic-ness of work, she was feeling relatively stress-free.
I celebrated my success in easing her schedule by spending $300 of her hard-earned money (which is fueling the start of my new career) buying clothes for myself in a 2-hour period (don't worry folks - I received a hefty tax return a couple weeks ago, so it's not really ALL hers. Well, yeah, I guess it is). The oddest part is, when I walked to the video store tonite after coming home from the SF Decorator's Showcase party, I was 'Walking On Sunshine.' I was starting to feel good. Really good. It's weird how a new cute polka-dot skirt can change your perspective. Or was doing something for my mom the thing that did it?
Even though it's past Mother's Day now, and beside the fact that I hate celebrating commecialized holidays, I wanted to tell those who are with me that Sunday (yeah, Mother's Day) was an absolute sucess. For all of us!
PS - you're welcome, Dad.
Cheers.
May 06, 2005
The Wrap
I reminded WR she could try to get us into the SF Intl Film Fest after-party tonight, and she did it! Then I reminded her, while we were there, that she cd try to get us VIP wristbands, and she did!
Then I met a handsome lawyer, who was dating a beautiful Claudia Schiffer look-a-like, who ended up being very nice yet worried about me stealing her man. We also met a Harley-riding 50-something who bought us drinks, and a German translator, then bumped into some brothers we met at the SFIFF opening party , re-met the guys representing the Martha Bros. Coffee booth (one hot, one not), and saw this really disgusting, Buddha-type Asian who had been sitting on a square cube all Buddha-style while slurping up all the asian noodles he could find. On the way out, Buddha was leaving too (with a half-full Corona in his hands) and he kept telling us "see you nest year!! See you nest year!!" I hope to God not. Please. Trust me, you don't want to see a big Asian man sitting all Buddha (i.e. legs wide open with the round belly laying out) noodling himself to death ever again. Even if he is some amazing producer.
On the way home we had the chattiest cab driver ever. I asked him half a question and he went on the entire ride with an answer and a half. It still doesn't bring back my black turtleneck (lost in a cab).
May 05, 2005
Tonight's SFIFF Party
WR,
I started visualizing the party tonight at Suede, and wondered how they were going to serve us free drinks at a nightclub (a girl's gotta plan the $$ factor). Then I found this:
"Bid this year’s 48th SF International Film Festival adieu...Suede boasts different nightlife spaces to suit your mood. From the multilevel lounges or cozy VIP accommodations to the spacious dance floor, party into the night to the spins of the city’s top DJs, while enjoying tastes from Bay Area restaurants and mouthwatering libations."
Location: 383 Bay Street 9:30 - midnight
FILM & PARTY - $85: includes film, party entrance with two drink tickets,
entertainment and light hors d’oeuvres.
SO, IMPORTANT TO NOTE:
1 - I don't know what club I went to in Dec. that I thought was Suede, but it wasn't Suede 'cuz I have never been to a club on Bay and Mason. Which is why our conversation was so confusing this morning.
2 - There WILL be food!
3 - It looks like we will get 2 drink tickets and
that's it!
4 - I have no idea how I am going to get there!
OK bye.
I started visualizing the party tonight at Suede, and wondered how they were going to serve us free drinks at a nightclub (a girl's gotta plan the $$ factor). Then I found this:
"Bid this year’s 48th SF International Film Festival adieu...Suede boasts different nightlife spaces to suit your mood. From the multilevel lounges or cozy VIP accommodations to the spacious dance floor, party into the night to the spins of the city’s top DJs, while enjoying tastes from Bay Area restaurants and mouthwatering libations."
Location: 383 Bay Street 9:30 - midnight
FILM & PARTY - $85: includes film, party entrance with two drink tickets,
entertainment and light hors d’oeuvres.
SO, IMPORTANT TO NOTE:
1 - I don't know what club I went to in Dec. that I thought was Suede, but it wasn't Suede 'cuz I have never been to a club on Bay and Mason. Which is why our conversation was so confusing this morning.
2 - There WILL be food!
3 - It looks like we will get 2 drink tickets and
that's it!
4 - I have no idea how I am going to get there!
OK bye.
May 02, 2005
Wow! Flirt-o-rama
Unfortunately, the girl quoted below is not me. But DAMN, the man knows how to do it (even while text messaging):
Her: Did I miss anything important?
Him: Yes. I was gonna ask you out.
Her: Wow 2 bad opportunities like that only come once
Him: Don't fool yourself. So when I see you on Friday, I'll tell you what happened.
Her: Is that your way of asking me out on a date?
Him: Who said anything about a date? I'll pick you up at 7. Dress to impress.
Her: [censored] Rd. and [censored] ave. Don't keep me waiting!
Holy sh*t, People. Men take note: That's a guy who is IN CHARGE. She didn't do half bad herself. Hey Lady, do you offer lessons???
Her: Did I miss anything important?
Him: Yes. I was gonna ask you out.
Her: Wow 2 bad opportunities like that only come once
Him: Don't fool yourself. So when I see you on Friday, I'll tell you what happened.
Her: Is that your way of asking me out on a date?
Him: Who said anything about a date? I'll pick you up at 7. Dress to impress.
Her: [censored] Rd. and [censored] ave. Don't keep me waiting!
Holy sh*t, People. Men take note: That's a guy who is IN CHARGE. She didn't do half bad herself. Hey Lady, do you offer lessons???
I Don't DO Diets
I don't do diets. One time, 4 weeks before attending a wedding in Hawaii, I signed up for Weight Watchers online. The good news: I lost 8 pounds in a month. The bad news: 1) I thought about food 24/7 for 4 weeks. 2) It didn't emphasize healthy eating (what! no fruit juice?!) 3. You need to give 30 days notice to quit, so I wasted $29.99 by not cancelling before I started! I never want to do that again. Food should NOT be something to obess about.
Seeing how I may have a romantic visitor here in 5 weeks, what am I thinking about? My figure. Muscle Mass vs. Body Fat. Bleck.
And do you know what I want right now? I want pizza. Or, better yet, baked goods. Back in the day (the day of what or why I don't know), I had this thing about Bisquick. I f*ck'g loved that sh*t. Do up some batter with just water and some [no, LOTS of] sugar, and you have *BING*: sweet sweet bisquits. A cheap, quick baked-good treasure. And I want some of that. RIGHT NOW!
Sigh. But I don't have pizza. And I don't have Bisquick. I have some Aunt Jemima pancake mix, but what an effort (trust me, if I had fresh eggs in the house it would be no effort at all)! Besides, I'm not in the mood for syrup.
The point is, I don't diet. And I'd like to munch on these things right now, but it's 10:42 pm and I'm smart enough to know (and too lazy as well) that falling under pressure will disrupt my muscle-to-fat ratio and therefore make me feel like crap when the Dutchman comes.
OK. I feel better now. Thanks for letting me let that out. Bisquick.
Seeing how I may have a romantic visitor here in 5 weeks, what am I thinking about? My figure. Muscle Mass vs. Body Fat. Bleck.
And do you know what I want right now? I want pizza. Or, better yet, baked goods. Back in the day (the day of what or why I don't know), I had this thing about Bisquick. I f*ck'g loved that sh*t. Do up some batter with just water and some [no, LOTS of] sugar, and you have *BING*: sweet sweet bisquits. A cheap, quick baked-good treasure. And I want some of that. RIGHT NOW!
Sigh. But I don't have pizza. And I don't have Bisquick. I have some Aunt Jemima pancake mix, but what an effort (trust me, if I had fresh eggs in the house it would be no effort at all)! Besides, I'm not in the mood for syrup.
The point is, I don't diet. And I'd like to munch on these things right now, but it's 10:42 pm and I'm smart enough to know (and too lazy as well) that falling under pressure will disrupt my muscle-to-fat ratio and therefore make me feel like crap when the Dutchman comes.
OK. I feel better now. Thanks for letting me let that out. Bisquick.
May 01, 2005
That Fly Is My Grandmother
Hey KO, remember that big black fly that would follow me around the apartment? It still shows up every once in a while.
WR was here one day when "Big Bertha" came visiting, and I told WR that the fly is a frequent visitor. WR said: "maybe it's one of your dead relatives." Ha ha ha!
After that, I changed Big Bertha's name to Rifka, what we used to call my grandma. I mean, seriously, what is a fly's life span? This thing has been coming to visit for 7 years!
The other day, I was smoking at the window and Rifka banged herself into the closed window like 4 times before flying away. She must know that I said I was quitting last Sunday.
This morning, I was awake and lazily lying in bed. Rifka kept coming in and out of the room circling me. When I finally got out of bed, she left me alone.
Oh, by the way. Rifka says "hi."
WR was here one day when "Big Bertha" came visiting, and I told WR that the fly is a frequent visitor. WR said: "maybe it's one of your dead relatives." Ha ha ha!
After that, I changed Big Bertha's name to Rifka, what we used to call my grandma. I mean, seriously, what is a fly's life span? This thing has been coming to visit for 7 years!
The other day, I was smoking at the window and Rifka banged herself into the closed window like 4 times before flying away. She must know that I said I was quitting last Sunday.
This morning, I was awake and lazily lying in bed. Rifka kept coming in and out of the room circling me. When I finally got out of bed, she left me alone.
Oh, by the way. Rifka says "hi."
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