I have my first follower. I'm so excited.
Welcome!!!
Onaona i ka pot roast!
I'm such a dork.
..... sweeping generalizations stemming from my experiences and imagination ..... Warning: contains much that is apocryphal - or at least wildly inaccurate.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Weed out the Riff-Raff, with Aloha of course.
Maybe it's all in my head, but this time I don't think it is.
When I started taken hula from Kumu Patrick at Na Lei Hulu, there were about 160 people in my class. Now we are down to about 50, give or take a few.
Every once in a while, maybe about every 8 months something happens and I look around and notice that someone I used to see all the time isn't there anymore. I think "oh, where's xxxx?" and then I realize that that person hasn't been around in quite some time. Sometimes people send out an email to the group stating their intentions to leave the halau. Sometimes they just disappear.
I notice that this happens right after or during a particular event. When we moved from just working on the basic hula movements to learning our first kahiko it got a tiny bit harder and people dropped out. When we moved from kahiko to chanting, then to chanting solo in front of the class, people dropped out. When we started our first 'auana, people dropped out and so on, and so on, and so on.
The biggest exodus was right after ho'ike and Kumu joined the two classes into one big class. Three years later our class is half the size it was at ho'ike.
It's getting harder again. We're preparing for a show that will take place in October. I wonder who will drop out when the dancing becomes more intense and Kumu is harder on us to do our best. I wonder how many people will leave right after the October show.
As we prepare for our huaka'i that takes place in 2 years, I wonder how many of my hula brothers and sisters will still be with me.
It's as though Kumu is thinking "ok, I want to take you all with me, but I want you to be sure you want to be here too. here are the tools. it's up to you to use them."
In a way, it's a good life lesson. "Here are the tools. It's up to you to use them."
When I started taken hula from Kumu Patrick at Na Lei Hulu, there were about 160 people in my class. Now we are down to about 50, give or take a few.
Every once in a while, maybe about every 8 months something happens and I look around and notice that someone I used to see all the time isn't there anymore. I think "oh, where's xxxx?" and then I realize that that person hasn't been around in quite some time. Sometimes people send out an email to the group stating their intentions to leave the halau. Sometimes they just disappear.
I notice that this happens right after or during a particular event. When we moved from just working on the basic hula movements to learning our first kahiko it got a tiny bit harder and people dropped out. When we moved from kahiko to chanting, then to chanting solo in front of the class, people dropped out. When we started our first 'auana, people dropped out and so on, and so on, and so on.
The biggest exodus was right after ho'ike and Kumu joined the two classes into one big class. Three years later our class is half the size it was at ho'ike.
It's getting harder again. We're preparing for a show that will take place in October. I wonder who will drop out when the dancing becomes more intense and Kumu is harder on us to do our best. I wonder how many people will leave right after the October show.
As we prepare for our huaka'i that takes place in 2 years, I wonder how many of my hula brothers and sisters will still be with me.
It's as though Kumu is thinking "ok, I want to take you all with me, but I want you to be sure you want to be here too. here are the tools. it's up to you to use them."
In a way, it's a good life lesson. "Here are the tools. It's up to you to use them."
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A sweet moment on the Muni
I crochet on the train. Sometimes I read. I go through phases switching back and forth. The only constant is that I always have my headphones on. I don't always have music on, but I've always got my earbuds in so people don't try to ask me what I'm crocheting or what character from whatever book I'm reading do I most identify with. When I crochet, I always keep what I'm working on tucked in a bag and I only pull out the part I'm working on.
The other morning I had my headphones on listening to some Kinks. I noticed a really old Chinese lady watching me crochet. After a few stops I pulled out what I was working on and passed it to her. She looked it over, gave me a big grin, said thank you and then got of the train.
It was a nice morning.
The other morning I had my headphones on listening to some Kinks. I noticed a really old Chinese lady watching me crochet. After a few stops I pulled out what I was working on and passed it to her. She looked it over, gave me a big grin, said thank you and then got of the train.
It was a nice morning.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I don't get it.
I went to a Lutheran school from the 3rd grad to the 9th. I didn't like most of my time there. I desperately wanted to fit in, but no matter what, I just couldn't swing it. Most of the time I felt like I was the weird one, the one that didn't have many friends, the icky one, the one that got picked on. I think that some of it may have been my own insecurities, but I also think that some people there played on those insecurities - including some of the teachers. I admit, I was odd. I had a weird sense of humor that nobody understood (still do, but I like it now), I didn't dress super girly, I wasn't popular.
There were 2, possibly 3 teachers that singled me out as the student they didn't like. One teacher, Mrs. C. made me crawl on my hands and knees up and down the aisles of our classroom picking up little pieces of trash that only the vacuum would get. When I finished she asked me if I learned my lesson. I told her I didn't know what I had done. She smacked me in the face and told me not to be a smart-ass. To this day I still don't know what I did. (One night, a few years ago I told my dad that story. He said "I better not run into her at Home Depot." I asked him why Home Depot, and he said "Because I go to Home Depot a lot and if I'm going to run into anybody it's going to be there." Gotta love my dad)
There was another teacher, Mrs. F. She seemed to have a special dislike for me. A few girls wrote something mean on the bathroom wall about Mrs. F. Mrs. F. accused me of it. Not only did I know what was written on the wall, I didn't even know that something had been written on the wall, or even what wall. All through PE class she kept asking me if I did it. She kept asking in me in front of other students. I found out what was written, I found out who did it. I told the three girls who did it that I got accused of doing it. They apologized to me. I thought that Mrs. F. should have apologized. I asked her to. She said that she wasn't going to because she probably wasn't far off from thinking that I'd do such a thing. I saw her about 4 years later. I brought it up to her again. She told me again she wasn't going to apologize and then she told me to stop holding grudges. OK, maybe I should let this go, you can't push a string, but if you ever read this, Mrs. F., please know that a teacher shapes a kid's opinion of her/himself more than you probably realize. It's not just the good teachers we remember, but also the ones that hurt us. Her husband was a teacher at the school, too. I never thought he gave me a fair shake, but he didn't do anything directly to me that made me feel bad.
There were other bits and pieces from those two teachers and a few others. Some of the kids' parents had a few choice words about me. I know I was the weird kid, but I was never malicious. I was never overtly bad. I was just the kid nobody understood, so rather than just recognizing that, teachers and parents reacted in such a way that made a little girl feel awful.
I had one teacher that I really liked. Mr. S. He was the type of teacher that everyone should have at least once in their school careers. He was funny, smart, dorky and nice. He let us laugh and he was strict all at the same time. He is THE best teacher I've ever had. He didn't make me feel stupid. He didn't make me feel weird for my off-beat humor. He didn't make me feel weird because I was interested in things that nobody else in my class was interested in. Thanks Mr. S.
OK, I write all this because I've recently become obsessed with the school. On Facebook I joined two separate groups for the school. I've reconnected with some of the people I was friends with, became 'facebook friends' with a few people that I thought were super-cool but never thought they'd give me the time of day when we were younger. I check the school board for updates on old friends and people I used to know.
Why do I do this? Why do I care? I guess I always had this weird longing to fit in. I have this weird feeling that I have to justify myself to everyone who thought I wouldn't amount to anything. To prove them wrong, I guess. So I don't have my PhD, I don't make tons of money, but by many people's standards, including my own, I've done pretty well for myself. I'm a college graduate, I've been married for almost 12 years to the love of my life, I have two kids who are sweet and kind, I work, I live in a house. I don't have everything I want, but I have everything I need.
There were 2, possibly 3 teachers that singled me out as the student they didn't like. One teacher, Mrs. C. made me crawl on my hands and knees up and down the aisles of our classroom picking up little pieces of trash that only the vacuum would get. When I finished she asked me if I learned my lesson. I told her I didn't know what I had done. She smacked me in the face and told me not to be a smart-ass. To this day I still don't know what I did. (One night, a few years ago I told my dad that story. He said "I better not run into her at Home Depot." I asked him why Home Depot, and he said "Because I go to Home Depot a lot and if I'm going to run into anybody it's going to be there." Gotta love my dad)
There was another teacher, Mrs. F. She seemed to have a special dislike for me. A few girls wrote something mean on the bathroom wall about Mrs. F. Mrs. F. accused me of it. Not only did I know what was written on the wall, I didn't even know that something had been written on the wall, or even what wall. All through PE class she kept asking me if I did it. She kept asking in me in front of other students. I found out what was written, I found out who did it. I told the three girls who did it that I got accused of doing it. They apologized to me. I thought that Mrs. F. should have apologized. I asked her to. She said that she wasn't going to because she probably wasn't far off from thinking that I'd do such a thing. I saw her about 4 years later. I brought it up to her again. She told me again she wasn't going to apologize and then she told me to stop holding grudges. OK, maybe I should let this go, you can't push a string, but if you ever read this, Mrs. F., please know that a teacher shapes a kid's opinion of her/himself more than you probably realize. It's not just the good teachers we remember, but also the ones that hurt us. Her husband was a teacher at the school, too. I never thought he gave me a fair shake, but he didn't do anything directly to me that made me feel bad.
There were other bits and pieces from those two teachers and a few others. Some of the kids' parents had a few choice words about me. I know I was the weird kid, but I was never malicious. I was never overtly bad. I was just the kid nobody understood, so rather than just recognizing that, teachers and parents reacted in such a way that made a little girl feel awful.
I had one teacher that I really liked. Mr. S. He was the type of teacher that everyone should have at least once in their school careers. He was funny, smart, dorky and nice. He let us laugh and he was strict all at the same time. He is THE best teacher I've ever had. He didn't make me feel stupid. He didn't make me feel weird for my off-beat humor. He didn't make me feel weird because I was interested in things that nobody else in my class was interested in. Thanks Mr. S.
OK, I write all this because I've recently become obsessed with the school. On Facebook I joined two separate groups for the school. I've reconnected with some of the people I was friends with, became 'facebook friends' with a few people that I thought were super-cool but never thought they'd give me the time of day when we were younger. I check the school board for updates on old friends and people I used to know.
Why do I do this? Why do I care? I guess I always had this weird longing to fit in. I have this weird feeling that I have to justify myself to everyone who thought I wouldn't amount to anything. To prove them wrong, I guess. So I don't have my PhD, I don't make tons of money, but by many people's standards, including my own, I've done pretty well for myself. I'm a college graduate, I've been married for almost 12 years to the love of my life, I have two kids who are sweet and kind, I work, I live in a house. I don't have everything I want, but I have everything I need.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Go Hang a Salami. I'm a Lasagna Hog!
So I've spent part of my morning looking for a lasagna recipe, sort of.
I make pretty good lasagne but I've never made it for 100 people at once. I need to make enough lasagna to feed 100 people, and some of it needs to be vegetarian. None of it can have beef or veal (darn, no veal bones) because Little Miss is off the cow. She doesn't eat beef.
If possible I don't want to make two different sauces. I want to use the same sauce for both versions of lasagne. I know I will cheat and say the sause is vegetarian because , in my opinion, no sauce is complete without a little bit of anchovy. I like the kind that comes in the toothpaste tube.
I guess what I'm looking for is a good lasagne recipe that I can use as a guide so when I make my shopping list I know how much of each ingredient I should plan on buying.
Any help you could give me would be great.
I make pretty good lasagne but I've never made it for 100 people at once. I need to make enough lasagna to feed 100 people, and some of it needs to be vegetarian. None of it can have beef or veal (darn, no veal bones) because Little Miss is off the cow. She doesn't eat beef.
If possible I don't want to make two different sauces. I want to use the same sauce for both versions of lasagne. I know I will cheat and say the sause is vegetarian because , in my opinion, no sauce is complete without a little bit of anchovy. I like the kind that comes in the toothpaste tube.
I guess what I'm looking for is a good lasagne recipe that I can use as a guide so when I make my shopping list I know how much of each ingredient I should plan on buying.
Any help you could give me would be great.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Oh my gosh, you'd think we were killing him.
The Mister has two states of emotion -
Yay, life is good
and
OH THE HUMANITY! YOU'RE KILLING ME. I CAN'T BELIEVE THE INJUSTICE!
Yay, life is good
and
OH THE HUMANITY! YOU'RE KILLING ME. I CAN'T BELIEVE THE INJUSTICE!
Crying Baby
I was going to write a blog about Valentines Day, Love, Chocolate and all that good stuff but my baby is crying and he needs a cuddle.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Food
I can't order food off a menu if the listed item isn't punctuated correctly. It might taste bad.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
My First, The Fence, The Reunion and Nachos
Written on Wednesday, August 20, 2008
My First, and The Fence and the Reunion and Nachos
Three things make me write this post.
First, my boss was posing the question - What was the first album you ever bought? (mine was Foreigner Four) and What was your first concert?(Mine was Elton John and Quarterflash at Irvine Meadows. I wore pink jordache jeans and a blue frilly shirt that kind of looked like the short sleeve version of the pirate shirt from Seinfeld.)
Second - I hate Metallica. I don't have anything against their music. They are fine musicians. Master of Puppets I'm pulling your strings, twisting your mind and . . . .something or other. Did you hear about the fence that some guy from metallica put up? he blocked off a fire road on his property that lotsa people jog and hike through because he's a big fat meanie. Then I thought about how the little one in Metallica, I can't remember his name, but the little one with the little cute girlfriend who had all the tatoos used to come in to WFM when I worked in the fish department and buy all the mahi mahi. Then, because I hate metallica so much (remember, I hate the artist, not the art), the cute girlfriend asked for some white fish because she heard that white fish didn't have a lot of fat, so I sold her a buncha escolar, which has lotsa fat and if you eat too much of it you get the runs.
Third - my 20 year HS reunion is in a few weeks. I'm on the fence about going. Society says I should go. E and S say I should go. A few work friends say I should go. I gotta tell you, I'm not excited about my old HS friends seeing my "not having any vices that make me skinny" body anymore. My "have had two kids" body anymore. All I'm really interested in is seeing who aged badly and who is gay now and which popular people who thought I was trash are now divorced and alcoholics.
Anyhow, all of that made me think of my first date - which is a pretty good story. My first date was with EM. I was 15 years old. The concert was in May or June of 1986. I was a junior in High School. I went to an Ozzy and Metallica concert. I spent the whole week figuring out just the perfect outfit to wear. How to make my slutty red pumps not look slutty, or maybe just a little bit slutty. How much blue eye shadow I should wear, and how high I should rat my hair. All week I listened to Ozzy and Metallica so I would know all the songs. I didn't listen to any Ozzy and Metallica the day of the show, however, because everyone knows it is bad luck to listen to the band you're gonna go see on the day you're gonna go see them. Once I figured it all out, I spent all day getting ready to go. I curled my hair lotsa times, put in tons of mousse and gel, lotsa makeup. Man, I was excited. I really liked the guy I was going on this date with. I was surprised my mom let me go, but she did. Then EM's uncle picked us up in his red mustang. We sat in the back and were quiet and nervous the whole way. At least I was. Uncle dropped us off a block away from the Long Beach Arena and said he'd be back when the show was over. We walked inside. I was so nervous and excited. I hoped I wouldn't trip and my blue eye shadow would make it through the night. We had great seats. EM bought me a t-shirt which I think I put on right away. He also bought me Nachos. We watched the show. I was so nervous I forgot to cheer. I had a great time. Then when the show was over, we walked hand in hand to the Uncle's car. It was waiting right where he said it would be. They drove me home. Uncle dropped the two of us off at my house then drove around the block so EM could kiss me goodbye. Then I went inside the house, said hello to my mom, then quickly went into my room, got ready for bed, and listened to my ears ring until I fell asleep. I was so happy. On Monday I made sure to wear my Ozzy shirt to show everyone I went to the show. I had a great time. Thank you EM. Oh, on a side note, EM and I also went to another concert about 3 years later. We saw Barry Manilow. EM bought me nachos. Whenever I have Nachos I smile a tiny little smile and I remember my first date.
So, to sum up, the first album I bought for myself was Foreigner 4, Metallica are a buncha a-holes, I think I'll skip the reunion and Nachos make me happy.
My First, and The Fence and the Reunion and Nachos
Three things make me write this post.
First, my boss was posing the question - What was the first album you ever bought? (mine was Foreigner Four) and What was your first concert?(Mine was Elton John and Quarterflash at Irvine Meadows. I wore pink jordache jeans and a blue frilly shirt that kind of looked like the short sleeve version of the pirate shirt from Seinfeld.)
Second - I hate Metallica. I don't have anything against their music. They are fine musicians. Master of Puppets I'm pulling your strings, twisting your mind and . . . .something or other. Did you hear about the fence that some guy from metallica put up? he blocked off a fire road on his property that lotsa people jog and hike through because he's a big fat meanie. Then I thought about how the little one in Metallica, I can't remember his name, but the little one with the little cute girlfriend who had all the tatoos used to come in to WFM when I worked in the fish department and buy all the mahi mahi. Then, because I hate metallica so much (remember, I hate the artist, not the art), the cute girlfriend asked for some white fish because she heard that white fish didn't have a lot of fat, so I sold her a buncha escolar, which has lotsa fat and if you eat too much of it you get the runs.
Third - my 20 year HS reunion is in a few weeks. I'm on the fence about going. Society says I should go. E and S say I should go. A few work friends say I should go. I gotta tell you, I'm not excited about my old HS friends seeing my "not having any vices that make me skinny" body anymore. My "have had two kids" body anymore. All I'm really interested in is seeing who aged badly and who is gay now and which popular people who thought I was trash are now divorced and alcoholics.
Anyhow, all of that made me think of my first date - which is a pretty good story. My first date was with EM. I was 15 years old. The concert was in May or June of 1986. I was a junior in High School. I went to an Ozzy and Metallica concert. I spent the whole week figuring out just the perfect outfit to wear. How to make my slutty red pumps not look slutty, or maybe just a little bit slutty. How much blue eye shadow I should wear, and how high I should rat my hair. All week I listened to Ozzy and Metallica so I would know all the songs. I didn't listen to any Ozzy and Metallica the day of the show, however, because everyone knows it is bad luck to listen to the band you're gonna go see on the day you're gonna go see them. Once I figured it all out, I spent all day getting ready to go. I curled my hair lotsa times, put in tons of mousse and gel, lotsa makeup. Man, I was excited. I really liked the guy I was going on this date with. I was surprised my mom let me go, but she did. Then EM's uncle picked us up in his red mustang. We sat in the back and were quiet and nervous the whole way. At least I was. Uncle dropped us off a block away from the Long Beach Arena and said he'd be back when the show was over. We walked inside. I was so nervous and excited. I hoped I wouldn't trip and my blue eye shadow would make it through the night. We had great seats. EM bought me a t-shirt which I think I put on right away. He also bought me Nachos. We watched the show. I was so nervous I forgot to cheer. I had a great time. Then when the show was over, we walked hand in hand to the Uncle's car. It was waiting right where he said it would be. They drove me home. Uncle dropped the two of us off at my house then drove around the block so EM could kiss me goodbye. Then I went inside the house, said hello to my mom, then quickly went into my room, got ready for bed, and listened to my ears ring until I fell asleep. I was so happy. On Monday I made sure to wear my Ozzy shirt to show everyone I went to the show. I had a great time. Thank you EM. Oh, on a side note, EM and I also went to another concert about 3 years later. We saw Barry Manilow. EM bought me nachos. Whenever I have Nachos I smile a tiny little smile and I remember my first date.
So, to sum up, the first album I bought for myself was Foreigner 4, Metallica are a buncha a-holes, I think I'll skip the reunion and Nachos make me happy.
The Pregnancy Posts
So my sweet baby Little Mister is almost a year old. Here are some myspace musings about my pregnancy with him.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
It’s a smelly smell that smells smelly
So now that I'm with child, pregnant, knocked-up, stuffed, whatever ,that's me . . .I can smell everything.
I hate the bus in the morning. There are these three guys who get on who smell like garlic, cigarettes and no shower. Whereever I'm sitting they have to sit next to me. there's also "perfume sprayed on her clothes and in her hair" lady, "too much cologne and not enough shower" man, and my favorite "hard boiled eggs and breathmints" girl. ew.Things also taste funny. Yesterday the sour cream and onion Lays I tried tasted just like swimming pool water.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Pregnancy is making me mean
Today muni was crowded. I had to wait forever for the L. I had the smarts to take whatever train to West P. and then wait for the L so most of the train ride wasn't so bad. However, when I got on the L it was super crowded. I unbuttoned my jacket, stuck my pregnant belly out as far as I could and no one gave me a seat. In fact, most of the other Sunset residents on the train closed their eyes and pretended I wasn't there. I decided to choose a target. I saw a 20 year old girl who I thought had a strong back and should give me her seat. I stood right beside her and stared at her. I didn't take my eyes off of her. Then she turned up her ipod and closed her eyes. I moved closer to the point where everytime the train jerked, my belly hit her shoulder. I wish it would have hit her head, but my belly isn't that big yet. Then I got a seat, perpendicular to her. I positioned my feet and my backpack so she had to really squirm to get out of her seat. When she did, I moved my foot a little bit and tripped her. She didn't fall. She just stumbled for half a second. After I did it, I didn't exactly feel bad, but I did notice how mean pregnancy is making me.Does this make me a bad person?
Monday, January 21, 2008
These things are good: ice cream and cake, a ride on a harley, seeing monkeys in the trees, the rain on my tongue, and the sun shining on my face.
These things are a drag: dust in my hair, holes in my shoes, no money in my pocket, and the sun shining on my face.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
The Baby and My Butt
When the baby hiccups, I feel it in my butt. It's like he's tapping me from inside my butt. Stop it.
Monday, March 10, 2008
My baby is not Oaklandish
Lemme start out by saying -- Baby is still tucked away safely inside me with no plans on his part to come out early.Last night I had to go to Labor and Delivery. Blood pressure stuff. No baby yet. After I had blood drawn and been checked out, but before the results came back, the doctor came in and said they were going to admit me for observation, bring my bp down, control my pre-eclampsia and such, and then decide if they needed to induce me. Then she said something really ugly. She said that there was a nursing shortage and I might have to be transported to Oakland. The first thing out of my mouth was "My baby will not be born in Oakland." Tom agreed, whole heartedly. We were prepared to tell the nursing staff that if they didn't get me a bed in the SF hospital, we were going home. Tom and I are proud San Francisco transplants full of that San Francisco zeal that most of you understand. Our daughter is native, our son will be also.
update - the baby was born 2 days later, in San Francisco.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Little Mister Update
Hello Everybody,Just thought I’d give everyone a little update aboutour little man. Seems naming him after Odysseus, themighty King of Ithaca is fitting. He is certainly ona little journey, trying to get home.Little Mister was born on Wednesday, 3/12 at6pm. He had a pretty rocky start, but is on his wayto getting better.To date, at 5 days old our little boy has endured a blood transfusion, chest x-rays, and EEG, ultrasounds, spinal tap, numerous blood draws. He’s been on and off supplemental oxygen more times than I can count and his newest battle that he needs to conquer is having seizures. Jury is still out on what’s causing those.The good thing is that to look at him, he looks like anormal 5 day old little boy. He’s eating, crying, protesting when being prodded, making all those sweet little baby noises and grunts that babies make. The doctors are pleased with his progress, but perplexed at some of the difficulties he’s having. However, we are encouraged as we keep hearing the medical staffusing words like "cautiously optimistic". Funny thing is that at only 6.7 pounds, he’s a giant in the NICU as all of the babies he shares his wingwith were born at somewhere between 27 and 33 weeks. All of his little friends in the NICU can’t be more than 4 pounds. They are so tiny. He’s the only term baby there. All of the parents of all the babies are so nice. It’s nice to have them to talk to. I know I can’t complain as much as they have a right to as their babies have much longer journeys than mine does. Some of them have been there for over a month, still eat from tubes and can’t breathe on their own. I can’t imagine having to go through what they do.We spend our days at the hospital after we drop Little Miss off at school, and our nights are spent wherever the baby needs us. Mostly I come home for a little while to hang out w/ Little Miss, then Hubby drives me back to the hospital to stay in the NICU’s parent room, which consists of a fold-out couch and the worst shower in the world. Tonight I’m treating myself and staying at home, getting a decent meal and shower and hanging outwith Little Miss. I think I’ll even have a beer. It’s been about 9 months since I’ve been able to enjoy one.No ETA on when little Mister will be coming home.Keep us in your thoughts and prayers, light a candle,chant, send extra aloha spirit, what every you do,please do it.Thanks,Andrea
Monday, March 24, 2008
Yay. Little Mister is Home.
Hooray! Little Mister is home. He came home Saturday afternoon. No more full night’s sleep for me. A small price to pay for having my boy at home. My little night-owl is just perfect and I’m so happy he’s home. We have drs. visits about once a week for a few months, another EEG is in his future, and possibly another MRI. He’s got meds to take every night for until, well, the giant bottle we got runs out. But he’s home. Yay. He’s home
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
It’s a smelly smell that smells smelly
So now that I'm with child, pregnant, knocked-up, stuffed, whatever ,that's me . . .I can smell everything.
I hate the bus in the morning. There are these three guys who get on who smell like garlic, cigarettes and no shower. Whereever I'm sitting they have to sit next to me. there's also "perfume sprayed on her clothes and in her hair" lady, "too much cologne and not enough shower" man, and my favorite "hard boiled eggs and breathmints" girl. ew.Things also taste funny. Yesterday the sour cream and onion Lays I tried tasted just like swimming pool water.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Pregnancy is making me mean
Today muni was crowded. I had to wait forever for the L. I had the smarts to take whatever train to West P. and then wait for the L so most of the train ride wasn't so bad. However, when I got on the L it was super crowded. I unbuttoned my jacket, stuck my pregnant belly out as far as I could and no one gave me a seat. In fact, most of the other Sunset residents on the train closed their eyes and pretended I wasn't there. I decided to choose a target. I saw a 20 year old girl who I thought had a strong back and should give me her seat. I stood right beside her and stared at her. I didn't take my eyes off of her. Then she turned up her ipod and closed her eyes. I moved closer to the point where everytime the train jerked, my belly hit her shoulder. I wish it would have hit her head, but my belly isn't that big yet. Then I got a seat, perpendicular to her. I positioned my feet and my backpack so she had to really squirm to get out of her seat. When she did, I moved my foot a little bit and tripped her. She didn't fall. She just stumbled for half a second. After I did it, I didn't exactly feel bad, but I did notice how mean pregnancy is making me.Does this make me a bad person?
Monday, January 21, 2008
These things are good: ice cream and cake, a ride on a harley, seeing monkeys in the trees, the rain on my tongue, and the sun shining on my face.
These things are a drag: dust in my hair, holes in my shoes, no money in my pocket, and the sun shining on my face.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
The Baby and My Butt
When the baby hiccups, I feel it in my butt. It's like he's tapping me from inside my butt. Stop it.
Monday, March 10, 2008
My baby is not Oaklandish
Lemme start out by saying -- Baby is still tucked away safely inside me with no plans on his part to come out early.Last night I had to go to Labor and Delivery. Blood pressure stuff. No baby yet. After I had blood drawn and been checked out, but before the results came back, the doctor came in and said they were going to admit me for observation, bring my bp down, control my pre-eclampsia and such, and then decide if they needed to induce me. Then she said something really ugly. She said that there was a nursing shortage and I might have to be transported to Oakland. The first thing out of my mouth was "My baby will not be born in Oakland." Tom agreed, whole heartedly. We were prepared to tell the nursing staff that if they didn't get me a bed in the SF hospital, we were going home. Tom and I are proud San Francisco transplants full of that San Francisco zeal that most of you understand. Our daughter is native, our son will be also.
update - the baby was born 2 days later, in San Francisco.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Little Mister Update
Hello Everybody,Just thought I’d give everyone a little update aboutour little man. Seems naming him after Odysseus, themighty King of Ithaca is fitting. He is certainly ona little journey, trying to get home.Little Mister was born on Wednesday, 3/12 at6pm. He had a pretty rocky start, but is on his wayto getting better.To date, at 5 days old our little boy has endured a blood transfusion, chest x-rays, and EEG, ultrasounds, spinal tap, numerous blood draws. He’s been on and off supplemental oxygen more times than I can count and his newest battle that he needs to conquer is having seizures. Jury is still out on what’s causing those.The good thing is that to look at him, he looks like anormal 5 day old little boy. He’s eating, crying, protesting when being prodded, making all those sweet little baby noises and grunts that babies make. The doctors are pleased with his progress, but perplexed at some of the difficulties he’s having. However, we are encouraged as we keep hearing the medical staffusing words like "cautiously optimistic". Funny thing is that at only 6.7 pounds, he’s a giant in the NICU as all of the babies he shares his wingwith were born at somewhere between 27 and 33 weeks. All of his little friends in the NICU can’t be more than 4 pounds. They are so tiny. He’s the only term baby there. All of the parents of all the babies are so nice. It’s nice to have them to talk to. I know I can’t complain as much as they have a right to as their babies have much longer journeys than mine does. Some of them have been there for over a month, still eat from tubes and can’t breathe on their own. I can’t imagine having to go through what they do.We spend our days at the hospital after we drop Little Miss off at school, and our nights are spent wherever the baby needs us. Mostly I come home for a little while to hang out w/ Little Miss, then Hubby drives me back to the hospital to stay in the NICU’s parent room, which consists of a fold-out couch and the worst shower in the world. Tonight I’m treating myself and staying at home, getting a decent meal and shower and hanging outwith Little Miss. I think I’ll even have a beer. It’s been about 9 months since I’ve been able to enjoy one.No ETA on when little Mister will be coming home.Keep us in your thoughts and prayers, light a candle,chant, send extra aloha spirit, what every you do,please do it.Thanks,Andrea
Monday, March 24, 2008
Yay. Little Mister is Home.
Hooray! Little Mister is home. He came home Saturday afternoon. No more full night’s sleep for me. A small price to pay for having my boy at home. My little night-owl is just perfect and I’m so happy he’s home. We have drs. visits about once a week for a few months, another EEG is in his future, and possibly another MRI. He’s got meds to take every night for until, well, the giant bottle we got runs out. But he’s home. Yay. He’s home
OK the best of 2007
Still moving along with posts from MySpace - wheeeee!
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Victor Garber has freakishly large ears.
I'm sure you've noticed them. They're all I can stare at when I'm watching him in anything from Godspell to Guiding light, from Annie to Alias, from Exotica to External Affairs.
Today I was forced to tear my eyes away from his freakishly large ears, because I became obsessed with my freakishly long eyebrow hairs. I plucked one out of my eyebrow that was 1/2 an inch long, and I plucked a bunch more that were about 1/4 inch long.
Is it common to have such long eyebrow hairs? Probably less common than Victor Garber's freakishly large ears. Am I alone?
West Coast Soup Nazi
Who gets the soup?
The admin asst. simply buying her lunch, or the cranky executive looking up from his blackberry only long enough to bark out his order "soup"?
At Il Fornaio at Levi Plaza in San Francisco, it seems as though they favor the latter.
Let me explain further. I am that admin asst; the admin who was waiting in line in front of the cranky executive with the blackberry; the admin who ordered her soup BEFORE the executive had his turn at ordering; the admin who orders plenty of catering since my office is in the same complex as your restaurant; the admin who from now on will think twice about ordering your food, and just call Specialty instead. I was told I get no soup. He not only got a soup, but a big 20 oz cup of soup. When I pointed this out to the cashier, he told me there was no soup left for me. So, on a cold, blustery day I had to eat some mushy fruit and a sandwich made with yesterday's bread that ripped up the roof of my mouth when I ate it.
Thanks.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Little Theif will get hers.
This morning I experienced some unneeded stress.
I checked the balance on my credit card and there was a charge for $400+ dollars that I didn't make. It was for a party supply company that makes goodie bag stuff for birthday parties and decorations and such. I called my cc company, notified them of the faulty charge. They cancelled my card and are sending me a new one, investigating the charge and refunding me.
I remember I got a vm from this party supply company a week ago telling me there was a problem w/ my order. Since I didn't place an order, I didn't think anything of it. This morning, I listened to my old messages, found the message and from it got my customer number. I went to the company's website, with some prodding, found "my" order, and it turns out it was for 50 cardboard parrots, bags and bags of 100 ct. jelly bracelets, stickers, crap like that, being shipped to someone in Richmond. Luckily I got the order cancelled, got my credit card cancelled. And I also got the shipping address and the name of the person who stole my cc info. I let my credit card company know all about it, including the theif's name and address, and little miss who stole my info will certainly reap the ill effects of stealing my information, either legally or through all the bad karma she's creating for herself.
Hopefully, the reaping of that bad karma will include breaking a nail really bad at the quick so it bleeds a lot all over her new white dress, getting a paper cut with a manilla folder on the tip of her index finger on a day when she has to do a lot of typing or 10 key and then has to squeeze a lot of lemons, getting a super bad zit right under her nostril, getting a zit on her upper lip so everyone will think its a herpie on a day when she's got a hot date, getting decaf coffee instead of regular on a day when she hadn't had a lot of sleep the night before, getting regular instead of decaf on a day when she has to go to bed early, breaks a shoelace when she's running late, and whatever else I think of later.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
My friend B’s weirdness
We all have our weird little things that no one else understands. I'm fascinated by my friend B's.
She has this interesting problem with fruit. Here goes . . .
She can't eat small round fruit -- no blueberries or grapes especially. She can eat cherries if she picks them herself from a tree and she psychs herself up enough. She doesn't like the way they pop in her mouth. It's too much like eating eyes. Oddly enough, if one were to cut the fruit in half, thereby changing the shape and getting rid of the 'popping' factor, the fruit is even more creepy and she really won't be able to eat it. She does, however like the flavor of grapes and will drink grape juice, but she does not like the flavor of blueberries, except for the one time her friend tricked her and made her a banana-blueberry smoothie.Most large round fruit is OK. Melons are great, if one does not use a melon-baller to do the cutting of the melon, because then the fruit would be small and round. Melons and other fruit, however, can't touch. Cut like fruit is only allowed to touch cut like fruit. Cut watermelon cannot touch cut honeydew melon. They can be eaten separately, however.Fruit salad is a big no-no. All those cut pieces of fruit touching each other. She just can't do it.
I am not without my weirdness. The last job interview I had, which was for the job I have now, my boss asked me "What bothers you?" without thinking, and without restraint, my answer was "Tapping". I hate the sound of tapping, especially when there isn't a real pattern, like the wind opening and shutting a door, like that part in Dr. Zhivago when Yuri is a young boy and he's about to go to sleep after a long day at his mom's funeral. His adoptive parents and Tanya just said good night to him. They shut the door, turn out the light, the wind starts howling and starts knocking a branch against the window. Tapping, tapping tapping. Poor Yuri. I hate that part of the movie.
Embrace your ticks. It's who you are.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Genoa Keawe asked me to Dance!
We got back from Hawaii last week. I came home so freakin' sick. I'm blaming it on the coughing guy sitting behind me on the airplane. We were at Volcanoes Nat'l Park and I thought "man, my allergies are killing me today", but when I woke up the next morning I thought "that's no small moon, that's a space station." meaning "that's not allergies, that's a full on sucky cold". That day we drove to Akaka Falls. I felt awful. We went for lunch in Hilo. Hubby and kid decided they wanted to go to the dirtiest grocery store in Hawaii-nei and buy a bunch of Tuna Poki and Tako for lunch. Having the worst cold ever, I didn't eat. It didn't help that the place hubby chose to sit and eat was under a gazebo that was already occupied by a bunch of homless trannies drinking tall-boys out of paper bags.The coolest part of Hawaii however, the coolest thing that makes up for being sick on the Big Island, was that on Oahu, we went to see Genoa Keawe perform. I introduced myself to her, told her who my Kumu was and she told me to dance Papalina Lahilahi. I was totally stoked. However, she forgot to call me up to dance. I didn't get to dance for her. Still, Genoa Keawe asked me to dance for her. That's the coolest ever.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Rhonda
One night, when I was19, I went out w/ my friend Jon. We went to see Dead Poet's Society at some theatre in Seal Beach. The night ended, as most nights did when I was 19 years old, at the Reno Room. Where was it? 4th and Redondo? Or was that Dick and Fay's Bistro? Whereever it was, we were at the Reno Room. We sat in a U-Shaped booth across from the bar. We noticed this couple at the bar. They weren't really a couple, they were just two people who were friends. They guy kept hitting on the girl. She kept pushing him off. Something funny happened, a joke in our conversation, somebody tripping or getting hit in the nards, I don't remember, but something unrelated to this couple happened, at it was funny, so we started laughing. The girl at the bar turned around, looked at us and said "Stop laughing at me." Jon and I both said at the same time "We're not laughing at you, we're laughing near you." (jinx, buy me a coke). Then the girl got up, grabbed my arm and demanded that I come w/ her to the bathroom. The bathroom at the Reno Room wasn't as bad as the bathroom in Trainspotting, but it did rival the bathroom at the Elbo Room in SF. It was a single room w/ a dirty toilet and sink. While she was peeing, she told me the guy she was with was named Tom, and they had been friends for a really long time. He wanted to hook up, but she didn't. And, if they were to hook up, she'd have to tell him that she had herpes, and she just didn't want him to know. I was thinking, gosh, I don't even know this girl's name and I know she has herpes, why wouldn't the guy she's friends with know already? When we got back to the table, the guy was sitting w/ Jon, and someone had bought another round of drinks. I learned the girl's name, Rhonda. We all sat down and had a few more rounds, talked, and then the night was over. Jon took me home.The next day, having remembered that Rhonda told me that she worked at the Robinson's in the Mall and I should stop by, I went to Robinson's and stopped by. We found out we went to the same crappy community college and started hanging out. We would go for cheap manicures at the college's cosmetology dept., we would eat lunch at the cafeteria run by the culinary department (run by tweakers who worked at the Olive Garden at the Cerritos Mall). We started clubbing together, going to El Paso Cantina on PCH, dance clubs in Hollywood almost every weekend. Rhonda taught me how to get free drinks out of guys, great make-up tips that I still use, fashion tips like never matching your tights to your shirt, but instead to your skirt. Over the years, our partying became less frequent and our friendship turned into the occasional e-mail and sporatic sending of Christmas Cards. I moved to SF, and she moved to NYC.Rhonda e-mailed me today. She said she was in town for the Giants vs Yankees game and wants me to meet up w/ her after the game tomorrow. I haven't seen her for about 15 years. Not only am I a different person, I also look a lot different. 15 years, two knee replacements, childbirth, being married, not indulging in the vices of my past anymore ... lets just say I'm a lot more curvy than I used to be. Let's just say Raphael and Gaugin would have thought me a great subject to paint if they were alive and well in SF today.What do I have to lose. I'll go see her tomorrow. I'll regret it if I don't.
update 02.11.09 - I went to see her. we had a great time together and I hope I get to see her again someday
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Open Letter to Trader Joe's -- Daly City
Aloha
Please speak with the sign maker at the TJ's in Daly City. Many of the signs have misspelled word, shoddy syntax and bad, inconsistent punctuation.
For instance, there is a sign in the wine department that speaks to a wine COMPLIMENTING a particular food. A wine cannot say good things about a particular food. A wine, can however COMPLEMENT a particular food, meaning, the wine pairs nicely with something. I chose not to buy that particular wine because the sign did not represent the product well.
Another example is the sign by customer service. It says "save significant money". What kind of money is insignificant? Shouldn't the sign read "save significant amounts of money" or "save significantly"?
If I had to single out the one thing that bugged me the most was the signmaker's ignorance of how to use an apostrophe correctly. An apostrophe is used to show possession, not plurality. However, an apostrophe is not used with the pronoun "it". It is, however, used as the contraction "it is".
I brought these three examples to the signmaker's attention one day. She told me that it wasn't a big deal and she shouldn't be expected to write perfect signs all the time. I agree that accurate pricing is more important, but by creating your own signage, rather than allowing manufacturer-generaged signage, you are taking on the role of representing a given product. If I am a manufacturer and I see my terrific product being represented poorly by Trader Joe's, why would I want to continue to sell to you, or for that matter, why would I want to continue to sell my products to your parent company Aldi?
Thank you for your time.
Friday, June 01, 2007
I don't speak Klingon, Mr. Chu
Today J., B. and I walked to Mixt Greens for lunch. On our way back we saw Frank Chu. I said "howzit hangin', Mr. Chu". He proceeded to bark out his theories and convictions about the 12 galaxies, president clinton, aliens, etc. B. said "I don't speak Klingon, Mr. Chu", he followed us for 2 blocks barking more of his philosophies. Finally B. said "Bill Clinton isn't president anymore". He stopped following us.
For you non-locals, just in case you don't know who Frank Chu is . . . .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Chu
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Victor Garber has freakishly large ears.
I'm sure you've noticed them. They're all I can stare at when I'm watching him in anything from Godspell to Guiding light, from Annie to Alias, from Exotica to External Affairs.
Today I was forced to tear my eyes away from his freakishly large ears, because I became obsessed with my freakishly long eyebrow hairs. I plucked one out of my eyebrow that was 1/2 an inch long, and I plucked a bunch more that were about 1/4 inch long.
Is it common to have such long eyebrow hairs? Probably less common than Victor Garber's freakishly large ears. Am I alone?
West Coast Soup Nazi
Who gets the soup?
The admin asst. simply buying her lunch, or the cranky executive looking up from his blackberry only long enough to bark out his order "soup"?
At Il Fornaio at Levi Plaza in San Francisco, it seems as though they favor the latter.
Let me explain further. I am that admin asst; the admin who was waiting in line in front of the cranky executive with the blackberry; the admin who ordered her soup BEFORE the executive had his turn at ordering; the admin who orders plenty of catering since my office is in the same complex as your restaurant; the admin who from now on will think twice about ordering your food, and just call Specialty instead. I was told I get no soup. He not only got a soup, but a big 20 oz cup of soup. When I pointed this out to the cashier, he told me there was no soup left for me. So, on a cold, blustery day I had to eat some mushy fruit and a sandwich made with yesterday's bread that ripped up the roof of my mouth when I ate it.
Thanks.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Little Theif will get hers.
This morning I experienced some unneeded stress.
I checked the balance on my credit card and there was a charge for $400+ dollars that I didn't make. It was for a party supply company that makes goodie bag stuff for birthday parties and decorations and such. I called my cc company, notified them of the faulty charge. They cancelled my card and are sending me a new one, investigating the charge and refunding me.
I remember I got a vm from this party supply company a week ago telling me there was a problem w/ my order. Since I didn't place an order, I didn't think anything of it. This morning, I listened to my old messages, found the message and from it got my customer number. I went to the company's website, with some prodding, found "my" order, and it turns out it was for 50 cardboard parrots, bags and bags of 100 ct. jelly bracelets, stickers, crap like that, being shipped to someone in Richmond. Luckily I got the order cancelled, got my credit card cancelled. And I also got the shipping address and the name of the person who stole my cc info. I let my credit card company know all about it, including the theif's name and address, and little miss who stole my info will certainly reap the ill effects of stealing my information, either legally or through all the bad karma she's creating for herself.
Hopefully, the reaping of that bad karma will include breaking a nail really bad at the quick so it bleeds a lot all over her new white dress, getting a paper cut with a manilla folder on the tip of her index finger on a day when she has to do a lot of typing or 10 key and then has to squeeze a lot of lemons, getting a super bad zit right under her nostril, getting a zit on her upper lip so everyone will think its a herpie on a day when she's got a hot date, getting decaf coffee instead of regular on a day when she hadn't had a lot of sleep the night before, getting regular instead of decaf on a day when she has to go to bed early, breaks a shoelace when she's running late, and whatever else I think of later.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
My friend B’s weirdness
We all have our weird little things that no one else understands. I'm fascinated by my friend B's.
She has this interesting problem with fruit. Here goes . . .
She can't eat small round fruit -- no blueberries or grapes especially. She can eat cherries if she picks them herself from a tree and she psychs herself up enough. She doesn't like the way they pop in her mouth. It's too much like eating eyes. Oddly enough, if one were to cut the fruit in half, thereby changing the shape and getting rid of the 'popping' factor, the fruit is even more creepy and she really won't be able to eat it. She does, however like the flavor of grapes and will drink grape juice, but she does not like the flavor of blueberries, except for the one time her friend tricked her and made her a banana-blueberry smoothie.Most large round fruit is OK. Melons are great, if one does not use a melon-baller to do the cutting of the melon, because then the fruit would be small and round. Melons and other fruit, however, can't touch. Cut like fruit is only allowed to touch cut like fruit. Cut watermelon cannot touch cut honeydew melon. They can be eaten separately, however.Fruit salad is a big no-no. All those cut pieces of fruit touching each other. She just can't do it.
I am not without my weirdness. The last job interview I had, which was for the job I have now, my boss asked me "What bothers you?" without thinking, and without restraint, my answer was "Tapping". I hate the sound of tapping, especially when there isn't a real pattern, like the wind opening and shutting a door, like that part in Dr. Zhivago when Yuri is a young boy and he's about to go to sleep after a long day at his mom's funeral. His adoptive parents and Tanya just said good night to him. They shut the door, turn out the light, the wind starts howling and starts knocking a branch against the window. Tapping, tapping tapping. Poor Yuri. I hate that part of the movie.
Embrace your ticks. It's who you are.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Genoa Keawe asked me to Dance!
We got back from Hawaii last week. I came home so freakin' sick. I'm blaming it on the coughing guy sitting behind me on the airplane. We were at Volcanoes Nat'l Park and I thought "man, my allergies are killing me today", but when I woke up the next morning I thought "that's no small moon, that's a space station." meaning "that's not allergies, that's a full on sucky cold". That day we drove to Akaka Falls. I felt awful. We went for lunch in Hilo. Hubby and kid decided they wanted to go to the dirtiest grocery store in Hawaii-nei and buy a bunch of Tuna Poki and Tako for lunch. Having the worst cold ever, I didn't eat. It didn't help that the place hubby chose to sit and eat was under a gazebo that was already occupied by a bunch of homless trannies drinking tall-boys out of paper bags.The coolest part of Hawaii however, the coolest thing that makes up for being sick on the Big Island, was that on Oahu, we went to see Genoa Keawe perform. I introduced myself to her, told her who my Kumu was and she told me to dance Papalina Lahilahi. I was totally stoked. However, she forgot to call me up to dance. I didn't get to dance for her. Still, Genoa Keawe asked me to dance for her. That's the coolest ever.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Rhonda
One night, when I was19, I went out w/ my friend Jon. We went to see Dead Poet's Society at some theatre in Seal Beach. The night ended, as most nights did when I was 19 years old, at the Reno Room. Where was it? 4th and Redondo? Or was that Dick and Fay's Bistro? Whereever it was, we were at the Reno Room. We sat in a U-Shaped booth across from the bar. We noticed this couple at the bar. They weren't really a couple, they were just two people who were friends. They guy kept hitting on the girl. She kept pushing him off. Something funny happened, a joke in our conversation, somebody tripping or getting hit in the nards, I don't remember, but something unrelated to this couple happened, at it was funny, so we started laughing. The girl at the bar turned around, looked at us and said "Stop laughing at me." Jon and I both said at the same time "We're not laughing at you, we're laughing near you." (jinx, buy me a coke). Then the girl got up, grabbed my arm and demanded that I come w/ her to the bathroom. The bathroom at the Reno Room wasn't as bad as the bathroom in Trainspotting, but it did rival the bathroom at the Elbo Room in SF. It was a single room w/ a dirty toilet and sink. While she was peeing, she told me the guy she was with was named Tom, and they had been friends for a really long time. He wanted to hook up, but she didn't. And, if they were to hook up, she'd have to tell him that she had herpes, and she just didn't want him to know. I was thinking, gosh, I don't even know this girl's name and I know she has herpes, why wouldn't the guy she's friends with know already? When we got back to the table, the guy was sitting w/ Jon, and someone had bought another round of drinks. I learned the girl's name, Rhonda. We all sat down and had a few more rounds, talked, and then the night was over. Jon took me home.The next day, having remembered that Rhonda told me that she worked at the Robinson's in the Mall and I should stop by, I went to Robinson's and stopped by. We found out we went to the same crappy community college and started hanging out. We would go for cheap manicures at the college's cosmetology dept., we would eat lunch at the cafeteria run by the culinary department (run by tweakers who worked at the Olive Garden at the Cerritos Mall). We started clubbing together, going to El Paso Cantina on PCH, dance clubs in Hollywood almost every weekend. Rhonda taught me how to get free drinks out of guys, great make-up tips that I still use, fashion tips like never matching your tights to your shirt, but instead to your skirt. Over the years, our partying became less frequent and our friendship turned into the occasional e-mail and sporatic sending of Christmas Cards. I moved to SF, and she moved to NYC.Rhonda e-mailed me today. She said she was in town for the Giants vs Yankees game and wants me to meet up w/ her after the game tomorrow. I haven't seen her for about 15 years. Not only am I a different person, I also look a lot different. 15 years, two knee replacements, childbirth, being married, not indulging in the vices of my past anymore ... lets just say I'm a lot more curvy than I used to be. Let's just say Raphael and Gaugin would have thought me a great subject to paint if they were alive and well in SF today.What do I have to lose. I'll go see her tomorrow. I'll regret it if I don't.
update 02.11.09 - I went to see her. we had a great time together and I hope I get to see her again someday
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Open Letter to Trader Joe's -- Daly City
Aloha
Please speak with the sign maker at the TJ's in Daly City. Many of the signs have misspelled word, shoddy syntax and bad, inconsistent punctuation.
For instance, there is a sign in the wine department that speaks to a wine COMPLIMENTING a particular food. A wine cannot say good things about a particular food. A wine, can however COMPLEMENT a particular food, meaning, the wine pairs nicely with something. I chose not to buy that particular wine because the sign did not represent the product well.
Another example is the sign by customer service. It says "save significant money". What kind of money is insignificant? Shouldn't the sign read "save significant amounts of money" or "save significantly"?
If I had to single out the one thing that bugged me the most was the signmaker's ignorance of how to use an apostrophe correctly. An apostrophe is used to show possession, not plurality. However, an apostrophe is not used with the pronoun "it". It is, however, used as the contraction "it is".
I brought these three examples to the signmaker's attention one day. She told me that it wasn't a big deal and she shouldn't be expected to write perfect signs all the time. I agree that accurate pricing is more important, but by creating your own signage, rather than allowing manufacturer-generaged signage, you are taking on the role of representing a given product. If I am a manufacturer and I see my terrific product being represented poorly by Trader Joe's, why would I want to continue to sell to you, or for that matter, why would I want to continue to sell my products to your parent company Aldi?
Thank you for your time.
Friday, June 01, 2007
I don't speak Klingon, Mr. Chu
Today J., B. and I walked to Mixt Greens for lunch. On our way back we saw Frank Chu. I said "howzit hangin', Mr. Chu". He proceeded to bark out his theories and convictions about the 12 galaxies, president clinton, aliens, etc. B. said "I don't speak Klingon, Mr. Chu", he followed us for 2 blocks barking more of his philosophies. Finally B. said "Bill Clinton isn't president anymore". He stopped following us.
For you non-locals, just in case you don't know who Frank Chu is . . . .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Chu
2006
I recently closed my myspace account. I realized as I was closing it that I had some pretty good blogs, at least in my mind they were good. Here are the best ones from 2006 . . . Oh, if you don't want to read the whole thing, my dreams are in italics. They're the best part.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Something Little Miss said to me today
"I wish the cast of Spongebob would act out Narnia"
Thursday, March 30, 2006
I could never get the hang of Thursdays
I have been fostering a new obsession -- Smart Water. I buy it buy the case now and drink it all the time. Real water doesn't work anymore. I don't really like the flavored kind -- most of it is too flavorful for me. I used to like the dragonfruit one but now it tastes too much like Kool-ade. The one I really liked was the lemon-cucumber water. I haven't seen that one in a while, but the last time I had it, it was too lemony and not enough cuke.
I remember when I had an obsession with WaterJoe and AquaJava. Glad I got over that one.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
The Two Dons (but one is really a Sidney)
I should start this by saying that I have a really active dream life filled with celebrities. I don't know why, but I do. I had one where Captain Picard and I won a kissing contest on the Arsenio Hall show and we had to share a cake w/ Annette Funicello and Frankie Valley. My dreams are odd.
When I tell Hubby my dreams he often replies with only one word: "freakshow".
I had a dream the other night. I wasn't in the dream this time, I was only an observer.
Don Knotts and Don Ho were sitting on a low cement wall. Don Ho wasn't Don Ho, however, he was Sidney Portier, only he looked like Don Ho.
Don Ho was Don Knott's son. You could tell they were Father and Son because they both had genius in their eyes -- the same kind of genius, just used differently.
That was the dream I had the other night.
Monday, May 01, 2006
The Coldstone Dream
I walked into Coldstone to get a chocolate ice cream with toasted coconut folded in. I tell the guy behind the counter that I'm not having the best day and am feeling a bit of ennui. He cuts the ice cream in half and pushes half under the sneeze guard, puts some coconut on it and hands me a paddle. He folds half and I fold the other half. Then he hands me the cup and I put my half in and he scoops up the other half and puts that on top. I ask him if he's ever thought about coming up w/ some sort of Coldsone-folding rhythm like the guys at fisherman's wharf do when they crack crab. He said he'd work on it. Then Little Miss and I walk out. It is raining outside. She has this giant softserve cone that was dripping. I lick all the drips off for her and then we run to the parking garage.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Not at all like the flying ark Yogi and BooBoo had
Another dream this morning --
I had a boat. A flying boat. It didn't have an engine for flying. It had a propeller that I had to crank and it flew on the currents. I couldn't fly it in the night because it didn't have lights. I drove it to work one day on the water. While at work some people took it from where I had it docked to another spot. I took a little boat over to the place where it was and took the boat back. I drove it over to yet another spot and then wondered if I had taken the right boat. I looked around the living area and saw a bar with lots of tikis and neon. Yup, it was my boat.
There was this English guy who lived by the boats and swam everywhere. When he swam, minnows swam in his wake. When he got out of the water there were always minnows tangled in his beard and back hair. Nice guy, though.
Then the boat wasn't mine anymore. It was Josh's boat. (for those of you who don't know who Josh is, Josh is Tom's friend from college, pretty nice guy). He had two pit bulls. One was tan and the other was rottweiler colored. They were both nice and liked to lick your face, but woudn't hesitate to tear it off if you were mean. Josh told stories about how he sailed the boat all across the USA. He said it cost $3,000 a month to own and maintain the boat, and even more $ to sail it.
That's it.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Isabella Rosellini
I had a dream about Isabella Rosellini this morning.
We were at an ice cream parlor. Isabella Rosellini was holding two ice cream cones. They were dripping all over her hands. Her hands were covered with ice cream. She looked at me and said "Ice Cream - the great equalizer."
Sunday, June 04, 2006
This wasn't a dream, or a nightmare. It's true
Last night Tom and I fell asleep watching TV. We're currently into watching all the Buffy series since I wasn't into it when it was running. It probably ran opposite Deep Space Nine or something nerdy like that. Anyhow, we just finished watching the episode where Buffy and the gang discover some graves were being dug up by the local science geeks to fashion a girl for one the the geek's reanimated brother. After the episode, I fell asleep. Tom continued to watch, I dunno, whatever it is Tom watches when I'm sleeping.
Anyhow, I woke up at 4:33 this morning to the voice of Ted Danson. Tom has fallen asleep w/ the TV on. It was that movie where Ted Danson and Whoopie Goldberg find out they have a kid together. Ted Danson was a car salesman (like Cal Worthington and his Dog Spot), and Whoopie owned a bookstore. Will Smith played the boyfriend of Whoopie and Ted's daughter. The scene I woke up to was when Jennifer Tilly, Ted Danson's live-in girlfriend, was breaking up w/ Ted Danson.
In the few seconds before I woke up I was able to run the entire movie through my head -- when Ted Danson took a big bite of wasabi when Whoopie took him out to sushi, when Whoopie got hit by the car and ended up in the hospital, when the bear attacked Ted Danson when he was trying to film a commercial, when Will Smith and the actress who hasn't been in anything since are riding over the bay bridge on a Honda Elite, the list goes on. What puzzled me the most was not that I knew so much about that movie but that I couldn't (and still can't) think of the title.
I thought "Soul Man", no, that was the movie w/ C. Thomas Howell.
Was it "Eddie". No, that was a movie about Whoopie and a dinosaur.
Was it "Fatal Beauty". No, that was about Whoopie and Sam Elliot trying to bust up a big LA cocaine ring.
Was it "Cop and a Half". No that was about Burt Reynolds and some kid that hasn't been in anything since.
Was it "Cadillac Man". No, that was Robin Williams and Tim Robbins looking for their dignity.
Then I thought to myself, "why am I confusing this crappy movie with a whole host of other crappy movies and why do I know so much about them. Do I really watch that much TBS?"
What was the name of the movie?
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
sightings . . . . .
I think I saw Sinbad today.
I was walking down Drumm to Market street today on the way to the Muni. I think I had a Sinbad sighting.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Constantine, Kitties and Kiddies
Another dream
I had this one this morning between snoozes on my alarm.
In parts of the dream I was married to Constantine Maroulis and in other parts I was Constantine Maroulis.
I gave birth to 5 babies at once but what came out of me, or rather, sprang and leapt out of me were kittens that looked just like Pauly, Little Miss's cat. After the babies/kitties were born, I had a set of each, 5 kitties and 5 babies. I kept one of each in my pocket, no matter if I was Constantine Maroulis or if I was married to Constantine Maroulis. I was wearing a blue hooded zipper-front sweatshirt with a kitty and a baby in the left side pocket.
As Constantine Maroulis, I was the daddy of the kitties and the babies. I went to band practice and sang in a microphone in a garage with a blue carpeted stage. When I was Constantine Maroulis, I was wearing the hood on the sweatshirt.
When I was Constantine Maroulis' wife, I was the mommy of the kitties and babies. I cleaned the kitchen. The dishwasher was colored fake wood paneling. I refilled the bottle on the table w/ olive oil. When I was Constantine Maroulis' wife, I wasn't wearing the hood, but kept my hands in my pockets.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Name Calling or Why Tourists should stay off Muni at 5pm
Everyday I walk 12 blocks from my place of work to the muni. By the time I get to Embarcadero Station, I'm in full speed and all I want to do is get on the train and go home.
Today I got on the escalator going down. I take this rather than the stairs because I can walk down the moving escalator and get down the stairs faster.
Today there were 2 tourists STANDING on the escalator on the LEFT HAND SIDE. They were talking to 2 other tourists standing on the right hand side about bus fare and if they could get away with paying the senior price. I knew they were tourists because they were wearing shorts and short sleeve shirts at 5pm in SF and they weren't carrying jackets.
Anyhow, I told the guy (probably not in my nicest voice) that he needed to move to the right because people walked on the left. He turned around and said "Well I'm not from around her honey and I'm not in a hurry." Then as I was walking away quickly (remember, I was trying to catch my train), he yelled "Haight Street Freak".
I got called a "Haight Street Freak". I've lived in SF for 15 years and I've never been called a "Haight Street Freak". All the times I could have passed for a "Haight Street Freak" in my younger days what with having more jewelry in my face than Mr. T had around his neck, I was never called one. That I was called a "Haight Street Freak" today made me both happy and puzzled.
The tourist probably heard the phrase that day and was looking for an opportunity to use it.
Friday, August 04, 2006
I've always wanted big knockers!
Yesterday Little Miss and I were in Target. We were looking at all of the barrettes and hair ties. All of the sudden Little Miss said "mom, I've always wanted big knockers." I looked down and realized that she was holding those ponytail holders that have the big beads on the sides and you wrap them around the ponytail rather than putting the ponytail through the loop. Girls, you know the kind. I thought it was so funny that I bought them for her.
When we got home, Little Miss said "daddy, mommy bought me knockers."
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Something Little Miss said to me today
"I wish the cast of Spongebob would act out Narnia"
Thursday, March 30, 2006
I could never get the hang of Thursdays
I have been fostering a new obsession -- Smart Water. I buy it buy the case now and drink it all the time. Real water doesn't work anymore. I don't really like the flavored kind -- most of it is too flavorful for me. I used to like the dragonfruit one but now it tastes too much like Kool-ade. The one I really liked was the lemon-cucumber water. I haven't seen that one in a while, but the last time I had it, it was too lemony and not enough cuke.
I remember when I had an obsession with WaterJoe and AquaJava. Glad I got over that one.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
The Two Dons (but one is really a Sidney)
I should start this by saying that I have a really active dream life filled with celebrities. I don't know why, but I do. I had one where Captain Picard and I won a kissing contest on the Arsenio Hall show and we had to share a cake w/ Annette Funicello and Frankie Valley. My dreams are odd.
When I tell Hubby my dreams he often replies with only one word: "freakshow".
I had a dream the other night. I wasn't in the dream this time, I was only an observer.
Don Knotts and Don Ho were sitting on a low cement wall. Don Ho wasn't Don Ho, however, he was Sidney Portier, only he looked like Don Ho.
Don Ho was Don Knott's son. You could tell they were Father and Son because they both had genius in their eyes -- the same kind of genius, just used differently.
That was the dream I had the other night.
Monday, May 01, 2006
The Coldstone Dream
I walked into Coldstone to get a chocolate ice cream with toasted coconut folded in. I tell the guy behind the counter that I'm not having the best day and am feeling a bit of ennui. He cuts the ice cream in half and pushes half under the sneeze guard, puts some coconut on it and hands me a paddle. He folds half and I fold the other half. Then he hands me the cup and I put my half in and he scoops up the other half and puts that on top. I ask him if he's ever thought about coming up w/ some sort of Coldsone-folding rhythm like the guys at fisherman's wharf do when they crack crab. He said he'd work on it. Then Little Miss and I walk out. It is raining outside. She has this giant softserve cone that was dripping. I lick all the drips off for her and then we run to the parking garage.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Not at all like the flying ark Yogi and BooBoo had
Another dream this morning --
I had a boat. A flying boat. It didn't have an engine for flying. It had a propeller that I had to crank and it flew on the currents. I couldn't fly it in the night because it didn't have lights. I drove it to work one day on the water. While at work some people took it from where I had it docked to another spot. I took a little boat over to the place where it was and took the boat back. I drove it over to yet another spot and then wondered if I had taken the right boat. I looked around the living area and saw a bar with lots of tikis and neon. Yup, it was my boat.
There was this English guy who lived by the boats and swam everywhere. When he swam, minnows swam in his wake. When he got out of the water there were always minnows tangled in his beard and back hair. Nice guy, though.
Then the boat wasn't mine anymore. It was Josh's boat. (for those of you who don't know who Josh is, Josh is Tom's friend from college, pretty nice guy). He had two pit bulls. One was tan and the other was rottweiler colored. They were both nice and liked to lick your face, but woudn't hesitate to tear it off if you were mean. Josh told stories about how he sailed the boat all across the USA. He said it cost $3,000 a month to own and maintain the boat, and even more $ to sail it.
That's it.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Isabella Rosellini
I had a dream about Isabella Rosellini this morning.
We were at an ice cream parlor. Isabella Rosellini was holding two ice cream cones. They were dripping all over her hands. Her hands were covered with ice cream. She looked at me and said "Ice Cream - the great equalizer."
Sunday, June 04, 2006
This wasn't a dream, or a nightmare. It's true
Last night Tom and I fell asleep watching TV. We're currently into watching all the Buffy series since I wasn't into it when it was running. It probably ran opposite Deep Space Nine or something nerdy like that. Anyhow, we just finished watching the episode where Buffy and the gang discover some graves were being dug up by the local science geeks to fashion a girl for one the the geek's reanimated brother. After the episode, I fell asleep. Tom continued to watch, I dunno, whatever it is Tom watches when I'm sleeping.
Anyhow, I woke up at 4:33 this morning to the voice of Ted Danson. Tom has fallen asleep w/ the TV on. It was that movie where Ted Danson and Whoopie Goldberg find out they have a kid together. Ted Danson was a car salesman (like Cal Worthington and his Dog Spot), and Whoopie owned a bookstore. Will Smith played the boyfriend of Whoopie and Ted's daughter. The scene I woke up to was when Jennifer Tilly, Ted Danson's live-in girlfriend, was breaking up w/ Ted Danson.
In the few seconds before I woke up I was able to run the entire movie through my head -- when Ted Danson took a big bite of wasabi when Whoopie took him out to sushi, when Whoopie got hit by the car and ended up in the hospital, when the bear attacked Ted Danson when he was trying to film a commercial, when Will Smith and the actress who hasn't been in anything since are riding over the bay bridge on a Honda Elite, the list goes on. What puzzled me the most was not that I knew so much about that movie but that I couldn't (and still can't) think of the title.
I thought "Soul Man", no, that was the movie w/ C. Thomas Howell.
Was it "Eddie". No, that was a movie about Whoopie and a dinosaur.
Was it "Fatal Beauty". No, that was about Whoopie and Sam Elliot trying to bust up a big LA cocaine ring.
Was it "Cop and a Half". No that was about Burt Reynolds and some kid that hasn't been in anything since.
Was it "Cadillac Man". No, that was Robin Williams and Tim Robbins looking for their dignity.
Then I thought to myself, "why am I confusing this crappy movie with a whole host of other crappy movies and why do I know so much about them. Do I really watch that much TBS?"
What was the name of the movie?
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
sightings . . . . .
I think I saw Sinbad today.
I was walking down Drumm to Market street today on the way to the Muni. I think I had a Sinbad sighting.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Constantine, Kitties and Kiddies
Another dream
I had this one this morning between snoozes on my alarm.
In parts of the dream I was married to Constantine Maroulis and in other parts I was Constantine Maroulis.
I gave birth to 5 babies at once but what came out of me, or rather, sprang and leapt out of me were kittens that looked just like Pauly, Little Miss's cat. After the babies/kitties were born, I had a set of each, 5 kitties and 5 babies. I kept one of each in my pocket, no matter if I was Constantine Maroulis or if I was married to Constantine Maroulis. I was wearing a blue hooded zipper-front sweatshirt with a kitty and a baby in the left side pocket.
As Constantine Maroulis, I was the daddy of the kitties and the babies. I went to band practice and sang in a microphone in a garage with a blue carpeted stage. When I was Constantine Maroulis, I was wearing the hood on the sweatshirt.
When I was Constantine Maroulis' wife, I was the mommy of the kitties and babies. I cleaned the kitchen. The dishwasher was colored fake wood paneling. I refilled the bottle on the table w/ olive oil. When I was Constantine Maroulis' wife, I wasn't wearing the hood, but kept my hands in my pockets.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Name Calling or Why Tourists should stay off Muni at 5pm
Everyday I walk 12 blocks from my place of work to the muni. By the time I get to Embarcadero Station, I'm in full speed and all I want to do is get on the train and go home.
Today I got on the escalator going down. I take this rather than the stairs because I can walk down the moving escalator and get down the stairs faster.
Today there were 2 tourists STANDING on the escalator on the LEFT HAND SIDE. They were talking to 2 other tourists standing on the right hand side about bus fare and if they could get away with paying the senior price. I knew they were tourists because they were wearing shorts and short sleeve shirts at 5pm in SF and they weren't carrying jackets.
Anyhow, I told the guy (probably not in my nicest voice) that he needed to move to the right because people walked on the left. He turned around and said "Well I'm not from around her honey and I'm not in a hurry." Then as I was walking away quickly (remember, I was trying to catch my train), he yelled "Haight Street Freak".
I got called a "Haight Street Freak". I've lived in SF for 15 years and I've never been called a "Haight Street Freak". All the times I could have passed for a "Haight Street Freak" in my younger days what with having more jewelry in my face than Mr. T had around his neck, I was never called one. That I was called a "Haight Street Freak" today made me both happy and puzzled.
The tourist probably heard the phrase that day and was looking for an opportunity to use it.
Friday, August 04, 2006
I've always wanted big knockers!
Yesterday Little Miss and I were in Target. We were looking at all of the barrettes and hair ties. All of the sudden Little Miss said "mom, I've always wanted big knockers." I looked down and realized that she was holding those ponytail holders that have the big beads on the sides and you wrap them around the ponytail rather than putting the ponytail through the loop. Girls, you know the kind. I thought it was so funny that I bought them for her.
When we got home, Little Miss said "daddy, mommy bought me knockers."
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