My new son - a celebrity dream

Last night I had a dream that Judah Friedlander was my son.


I didn't give birth to him. His mom died and he was left to me in his mom's will. The first time we met he was the dressing room attendant at a bridal shop - the kind where women line up for hours and then storm the building looking for the most attractive designer dress at half the price. Judah Friedlander was the person that stood in the doorway of the dressing room and handed out those numbers that indicated how many articles of clothing, except he wasn't standing, he was sitting on a big chaise lounge.
I went up to him, hugged him and whispered to him that his first mommy loved him more than anything in the whole wide world and wouldn't have given him to me if she thought I wouldn't do the same. I told him I loved him, that I'd see him later and then I got into a giant black tour bus and went to work.

Yup, still hate 'em.

Last night I accomplished #22 of my list (22. Try dolmas again. I hate them but I recognize that people's taste buds change. Maybe mine will and I'll like dolmas one day. I would really like to like them.)

So freaking gross. I almost couldn't go through with it.

We went to Whole Foods yesterday to pick up some snacks for our upcoming vacation. It was getting a bit late so we decided to get dinner from the deli and bring it home (or as Little Miss did, eat it in the car). I ordered 2 dolmas from the deli case thinking last night should be the night I try dolmas again.

Oh my gosh, you guys. It was so disgusting. I picked one up, was a little grossed out by its sheen but nothing I couldn't deal with. What I couldn't deal with is the horrible smell. I put it down right away. I couldn't take a bite. Little Miss picked one up, took a bite and although wasn't grossed out like I was, didn't really like it. I thought 'if Little Miss can do it, so can I', so I did. I picked it up, took a bite, chewed and swallowed.

Worst 20 seconds of my life, followed by the next worst 20 seconds of my life when I realized I had nothing to wash it down with.

Now I know, without question, that I truly hate dolmas. I thought maybe it was just the dolma producer, maybe it was a lingering taste I had in my mouth that made the dolma not taste good, maybe my taste buds hadn't reached maturity. Nope. None of that. I am a dolma hater.

My sweet boy, Oh boy, is he a boy.

Tonight as I was folding the laundry Little Mister decided it would be a great time to show me what a great Godzilla he could do. Charming.

What I'm really writing about is this . . . This morning as I was making oatmeal, Little Mister found a coffee bean on the floor. Just as I was about to take it away from him it squeezed out of his fingers and onto the floor. He ran after it, picked it up and then threw it on the floor again. Then he ran after it, picked it up and threw it on the floor. Five times I watched him do this. On the 6th time he couldn't find where the bean had landed. He turned round and round in a circle saying uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh. He couldn't find where the bean had landed. I pointed it out. He said "oh" in a growly voice. Picked it up and threw it across the floor.

I love my boy.

What a fun day.

I'd never done anything like this before. It took about 38 years but I'm here.

I recently did a photo shoot for the blog I Live Here: SF.
This is a blog that gives a snapshot of the residents of San Francisco. Julie, the lovely lady that took my photos has a blog and website that you can look at and marvel at her talent for taking photos.

Check out ILiveHereSF.blogspot.com, read my feature, then look at her other blogs and buy her portraits or hire her services for your next family photo.

Thanks Julie.

Why I don't eat Hostess Gem Donuts anymore.

Remember the old Muni trains? The orange ones that used to run 3 at a time in the tunnel? Remember how both sides of steps didn't work independently so both sets of stairs were positioned to default to the side the doors opened. So, if the train was on the street, the doors would open on the right but the stairs would be activated on both sides of the train. Remember how the stairwell in the back of the train created a sort of cave or warren for misfits and the anti-social? OK, picture that.
It is easy-peasy to eat a pack of powdered sugar gem donuts. They're very delicious and very bad for you. I love them. I haven't had one in about 10 years.
About 10 years ago I was coming home from work on the L. It must have been right after we moved into our house but I'm not sure if Little Miss was with us yet. If she was she was still a baby because when she was in preschool I took the N to pick her up and never took the L home. A girl got on at Lincoln High School. She was a sloppy hippie type and rather chubby with really messy long hair. She stomped from the front all the way to the back, threw down her over sized satchel and plopped herself down in the stairwell on the side of the train where the doors weren't active. She pulled out a 6-pack of hostess gem donuts, the chocolate kind, and proceeded to eat the entire pack. What caught my attention and compelled me to watch her with awe, which soon turned into wonder and disgust was the manner in which she consumed her snack. She would hold each gem donut, one by one, with her thumb and middle finger and eat the outside. Then when she had what resembled an apple core in chocolate gem donut form she would bite it in half and consume the donut core in two bites. I watched her do this 6 times. She ate the whole pack. It took her from 22nd Ave to Sunset Blvd to consume 6 gem donuts, each gem enjoyed using the same technique. It takes 14 blocks to eat 6 gem donuts in this fashion. After she got off the train I reflected on what I had just witnessed. She had a method for eating gem donuts. It dawned on me, if one has a tried and true method for consuming some kind of junk food, if one is so familiar with a particular treat, one eats too much of it. I was particularly fascinated by her display because I, too, had a method that was not dissimilar to hers.
I thought about the junk food I consumed at the time and decided if I had a method for eating it I would stop eating it.
I haven't had a gem donut since.

2 down

This weekend I accomplished two more things on my list. I did #43 Take Little Miss to a Festa and #49 Ride the Giant Dipper with Little Miss.



This weekend Hubby and I took the Kiddies to Santa Cruz to enjoy the Festival of the Holy Spirit. Oh my gosh we had fun. We got to Santa Cruz about 9:30am on Sunday, found a nice comfy place to sit and waited for the parade to start. Little Mister, of course, was not interested in sitting so the Hubbs and I took turns walking him up and down the street. Little Miss was a little restless as well, but as soon as the parade started she got into it.Tons of girls around her age dressed in really pretty white dresses with trains longer then they were tall. I gotta say, the trains on their capes (I guess you would call them capes) were beautiful.


After the parade we drove to Church then off to the Portuguese Hall, met up with Hubby's aunt and a few of his cousins. I gotta say, I really like his aunt and cousins. Not only are they very nice people, they just look like good people. They seem to exude good, always welcoming, always with open arms. I really like the Santa Cruz wing of Hubby's family. Now all I have to do is get all the names straight of all of Hubby's cousin's kids.



The moment I stepped out of the car I smelled the smelly smell of sopas. MMMM. One of the yummiest things ever. The link above to the Festival of the Holy Spirit has a recipe at the bottom. I'm sure that many different regions of Portugal, The Azores, Santa Cruz, Merced, etc. have versions that are specific to their area, family or terroir, but you'll get the basic idea.



We ate and ate and ate and ate and ate. About a year ago Little Miss gave up beef, except for Festas and St. Patrick's Day dinner. She ate beef yesterday. I was worried she'd get a tummy ache but she didn't, at least she didn't act like she felt yucky. She did feel a little guilty, but she got over it once she smelled the yummy food. Little Mister, it being his first Festa, pleased all on lookers old and young. He must have eaten his body weight in Sopas. Good boy. So glad I've raised two eaters.



We left before the dancing started. I think it would have been fun to stay for a while but we had a 2 hr. drive ahead of us and we needed to make one more stop . . . Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. We totally lucked out on parking. 2 hr metered parking right across the street. Sweet.

I bought tix for Little Miss and me to ride the Giant Dipper. Yay, #49 is done. I don't think I like Roller Coasters. I think I don't mind them, but I don't think I really enjoy them, except Space Mountain. I like that one. Hubby and Little Mister waited for us at the exit. After riding the Giant Dipper we went home.



We were tired, sweaty, dirty, a little cranky, but mostly happy and satisfied. We had a big day. We drove to Santa Cruz, we watched a Parade. We went to Church, we saw family we hardly ever see, we ate a whole cow, we rode a roller coaster, we had some cotton candy. It was a full day.