Ryuk vs. Tipper Gore

I'm not one of those moms who wants to censor everything. I'm not interested in what the Parents Television Council has to say. I don't have a need for Common Sense Media. I'm not even sure if the PMRC still exists. However, that doesn't mean that I think that my kids should watch or listen to everything. Not everything is appropriate for everyone. I don't think it has to be, either. For example, I don't think my 5 year old should watch A Nightmare on Elm Street, but I don't have a problem if my 14 year old watches it. As a parent it is my job to determine what is and isn't appropriate for them.

Now, my nerdiness is pretty contained. I like Star Trek (mostly TNG and DS9). I like Buffy. I like Twilight Zone. I get most of the sci-fi jokes on Big Bang Theory but a lot of the actual science jokes are lost on me. There are a few other sci-fi and fantasy series that I enjoy, but again, it's pretty contained.  I don't branch out much. I never really got into anime.

The Girl recently started watching a lot of anime. Not really knowing a lot about it, other than its existence, I decided to watch one of the series she talks about. I started watching Death Note. At first I watched it just to see what The Girl was into and see if it was appropriate for her age-group. I watched the first episode and I was hooked. I am up to episode 10. The verdict? Is it appropriate? Meh. There are other ways I would rather she spend her time, but if she's going to watch TV (even though she watches it on the computer and not TV, but what's the difference?) it's more interesting than Victorious and it's something we can watch together and talk about.

I'm sure she'll find an interest one day that I'm not too cool with. For now I will keep my eyes and mind open and hope that she'll trust me enough to share with me her likes and dislikes.

The "Newser" - a dream

A few months ago The Boy told me "Mom, I saw a newser today." He told me he saw a newscaster from the Breakfast News we watch in the morning. When I was a kid I didn't pay much attention to the news. My two oldest watch the news all the time. It's on in the morning when they are getting ready for school. We also usually watch the 6pm news. They know all the newscasters and when the regular ones aren't on, they notice. When they get haircuts, they notice. When they haven't been on in a while, they notice. I didn't start paying attention to the news until I moved to San Francisco. I didn't even know Breakfast News existed until about 5 years after moving to San Francisco and my boyfriend (now hubby) watched it. Anyhow, I had a dream about one of the "newsers" we see on TV on most days.

I had a dream about local news anchor Frank Somerville.

I was in Long Beach walking down the busy street that intersected with the street I grew up on. I still lived in the house I grew up in, but I'm not sure if anyone else lived there. Frank Somerville passed me on the sidewalk and I struck up a conversation with him. I asked him if I could get my picture taken with him. He said yes. I told him that he'd have to walk back to my house with me so I can get my camera. He followed me. On the way to my house he said that he knew someone who lived on the same street as my house but they lived there a long time ago. I told him that I was pretty old and that I moved into my house when I was 2 months old. We probably lived in our houses at the same time. He asked me if I remembered them. I told him "oh no, we never talked to anyone on that part of the street."

We entered the house. He sat on the couch and struck up a conversation with my parents plus some other people. About a half hour later he left. 

I never got my picture with him.

Naked and Hungry - 2 dreams

Dream #1
I was wearing nothing but a towel that didn't quite fit all the way around me. I hopped in the elevator at my work and planned to get off on the floor I don't work on because there was a closet there with lot's of clothes. The elevator didn't stop on the floor I wanted. Then the elevator turned into a subway. There was a woman standing next to me who works in my office. She had a bag filled with clothes that had the logo of the brand she takes care of at work. She was looking for my size, found it, then as I was putting the shirt on her stop came up and she got off the train. She had forgotten her bags of clothes and her cell phone. She called me on her cell and I answered it. I told her I would bring everything she left behind to work with me on Monday and leave it at her desk. 

Dream #2
Then I found myself at the airport. I saw Andrew Zimmern. I went up to him and asked him where the best places to eat were at O'Hare airport. We walked around the airport and he showed me his favorite places.

A Snuggle with Jack White - a dream

My friend E and I were hanging out in front of my house talking about what we could make with pumpkin pie filling. We didn't want to make a pie. Pie is so pedestrian. We decided we were going to make pumpkin pasties. Pasties are here and now, baby. 

We went back to her house in SF. She and her family had just moved back here. When we got to her house, E's hubby and kid were sitting on the front porch waiting for us. There was a party going on inside. We went inside and while we were gathering the ingredients, a poetry reading started. E's hubby was mad because he didn't want to start the poetry reading until 7:30 but it started early. 

After gathering my ingredients I had to go pee. Someone was standing outside the bathroom and told me I couldn't go in because Jack White was inside crying. I had to pee so I opened the door, told him I had to pee and could he please leave for a moment. He nodded, but instead of leaving, he went inside the shower and shut the shower door. He wasn't going to leave the bathroom, but he would let me pee in peace. While I was peeing he came out of the shower, crying and told me that the poetry reading had stirred up some memories and feelings that made him sad.  We spoon-snuggled until he felt better. 

The End.

Any Relation?

So, I think I'm related to San Francisco Police Chief Greg Suhr.

Hear me out on this one. I may not be as far off my rocker as you think I am.

My mom told me a story once about her dad's uncle (whose last name was Suhr) got fed up with living in the plains states and went west. My mom says she thinks she may have heard something about her great uncle falling for a Catholic girl, something good Lutherans from the middle of America didn't do at that time. Not sure if that's why he left or not. Neither is she but she thinks it might be. It could be that he was sick of the life he was leading and wanted to seek his fortune elsewhere.

Anyhow, they never heard from him again as long as I know.

Flash forward to about 10 years ago. My mom was visiting me in SF. She saw Chief Suhr on TV (except he wasn't Chief yet) being interviewed about something or another on the local news. She saw the Chief, thought he looked familiar. It's then she told me the story about her long lost great-uncle.

I called the Chief (except he wasn't chief yet) the next day and told him that my mom thought we were related. He sort of thought I was a nut case, but then I told him the story. He was either really good at humoring me or he thought my story was interesting because he was nice to me and listened to me talk, and even asked a few follow-up questions.

I don't remember how the conversation ended. The conversation never went any further than my one phone call to him. It still would be interesting to know if we're related.

Now, here's my proof, not that we're related, but that we could be related.

On the right is Chief Suhr. On the left is my cousin, my mom's brother's son. 

We're totally related, aren't we.

Baked Macaroni - So Terribly Out of Practice

I used to make macaroni and cheese a lot. It was one of my go-to standard meals and I would make a few times a month.



The Girl really liked my mac and cheese but she also liked the box kind. She would get mad at me when I told her we were having mac and cheese and I would hand her a plate of my mac and cheese and not Kraft or Annies. We decided we needed to call my version Baked Macaroni and the box version Mac and Chz.

(side note - Once The Girl spent the night at her friend's house. When she came home she told me that her friend's mom had made THE BEST mac/chz and would I please get the recipe. I called up the mom and she laughed and laughed. It turns out it was Annie's brand.)

It's been years and years since I made Mac and Chz. It's probably been about 2 years since I made Baked Macaroni, until yesterday. I was making a batch for some friends who just had a baby.

The Girl and The Boy were so super excited that we were going to actually have pasta in the house and they were going to get to eat it.

Man-o-man-o-Manischewitz am I out of practice.

Although I'm pretty sure the recipients of my baked macaroni got a good batch, I bought way way less pasta than I thought I needed and made way way way more cheese sauce than I needed. This resulted in the Kiddies not getting any, and the recipients of my creation wouldn't get as much as I wanted them to have.

It started out fine. The onions and garlic were sweating nicely. The secret ingredients were doing what they were supposed to be doing. When it came time to make the roux, the flour cooked nicely and nothing burned or stuck to the bottom of the pan. Trouble came when I added the milk. At first I didn't add enough. Then I added too much. Then it didn't get thick enough so I had to add some flour.

Because of this accidental augmentation of the bechamel I underestimated the amount of cheese I should use. I had a giant block of Tillamook extra sharp Cheddar as well as some Parmesan. I had to dig into our regular stash of cheese to make the cheese sauce cheesy enough. I was able to make a 9x13 pan of the baked macaroni but the kiddies didn't get any.

Even though we don't cook pasta at home anymore, I'm not heartless. I promised the Kiddies they would get some mac/cheese goodness and they will. I've got a pot of pasta shells boiling right now, and not the whole wheat kind.

I guess it's a good thing I have become out of practice of making delicious but unhealthy foods. It means I'm getting better at feeding my family the foods we should be eating.

Why I Hate Geese

Here's a story from when I was about 11 years old.

I wanted a Schwinn Beach Cruiser with pegs on the back wheels. I begged for one starting at about the time of my birthday in October, and didn't stop until I got one in December for Christmas, sort of.



I didn't actually get a Schwinn. What I ended up getting was a Stingray Beach Cruiser, and it didn't have pegs.

Almost the same, but not quite.

Anyhow, I used to ride it all over the place. One of the places I rode a lot was the duck pond at El Dorado Park.




One day I was riding around the duck pond trying to see how fast I could make it around. At one point a goose ran right towards me and bit my leg. On my next trip around the pond I tried to kick the goose. I missed, lost my balance on the bike and steered myself into the poop and moss filled duck pond.

The goose squawked, mocking me with his smug goose-ness.

I got up, picked some gravel out of my hands and rode my bike home with wet, mossy pants and scraped up and bleeding knuckles.

You Made Me Lie to My Son - an Open Letter to Applegate Organic and Natural Meats

Dear Applegate,

Hubby and I try our best to eat a Paleo diet. We're not the best at it, staying true to the spirit of the way of eating about 85% of the time.

We are always on the look-out for new ideas, inspiration and recipes. We are especially on the look-out for quick foods from the conventional grocery store by our house. That is why we were so excited to see Applegate Natural Chicken and Apple Breakfast Sausage. Hubby bought a box thinking we'd give it a try.

This morning I was running a bit behind (as usual), I hadn't had my coffee yet (not as usual) and looking for something quick for my toddler and me to eat. I pulled the sausage out of the freezer and through the sleep in my eyes, read the back of the box.

Your nutrition panel states that one serving comprises 3 sausages. Your cooking instructions give directions for 2 sausages and 4 sausages. According to your box, in order for me to have a complete serving of your sausage, I need to cook a portion 1/3 bigger than the recommended portion. Now I'm not an idiot. I can do math. I can infer that if cooking 2 sausages takes 1 1/2 minutes, then I could just add an additional 45 seconds to heat up the third sausage. However, microwaves don't always work on the principles of logical mathematical equations when heating up frozen things. I thought that 2 minutes 15 seconds would be too much for 3 frozen sausages. I decided to heat up my 3 sausages using the heating guidelines for 2 sausages. You wanna know what happened? It turns out that 1 1/2 minutes is too much for 3 sausages. One minute would have done it. OK, I'll concede that I was planning on giving one of the sausages to my toddler. Knowing the sausage was fully cooked I didn't need to heat it up to 165 degrees. I could just simply take the chill off before handing it to her. But I heated up my 3 sausages at 1 1/2 minutes, found it way to hot for even me to eat right away. I had to pass it back and forth from hand to hand making "ah-ah" noises and blowing on it before I could eat it. (yes, I know I could have just put it down on the plate and waited a minute and maybe passed the time by tying my shoes or making sure I had my bag packed for the day, but it was early and I hadn't had my coffee yet.)
Once I finished my sausages, I cut up my toddler's sausage into bite-sized pieces, put it in a little ramekin and put it on the table next to her brother who was eating the breakfast his dad had made for him. He asked me if I was feeding her last night's meatloaf for breakfast. I told him yes because I knew he'd ask for some and I didn't want to do more math and be confused with your heating instructions at 6:30am, before I had my coffee.

Thanks Applegate for making me do math and lie to my son.

By the way, your sausage were pretty good. I can't wait to eat them with some fried eggs and dip the sausage in the runny yolk before I take a bite.

Goodbye Sunset. Hello Excelsior! -- a dream

Hubby bought a new house that we were moving into. The first time I saw the house was when we moved in. I didn't have any input in choosing the house. It was up on a windy hill kind of like the streets when you get off the 101 at Caesar Chavez, but looked more like the Excelsior. As we were walking down the street to the house the local business owners and residents gave me suspicious glances. Their glances and stares softened when I told them we were moving in the house down the street. 

I got inside and the house was filled with staircases. I had a hard time figuring out which stair case was the best one to get to my bedroom. I was told the kids each had a bedroom on the ground floor but as hard as I looked, I couldn't find them. Hubby's and my room was on the top floor. It was huge. There were a few different stair cases leading up to the room. The staircases were painted red. There were all sorts of closets behind doors that Hubby hadn't checked out. I opened a green door and found a little kitchenette painted avocado green. I walked into the little kitchenette and looked on the shelves and found TONS of really great yarn in plastic ziplock bags. I was about to take the yarn out of the bags when I saw that the yarn was full of little black bugs. I was bummed I had to throw all the yarn away. 

Then I found Hubby in the middle of the room. I was sitting on the bed. He was sitting on the floor.  I noticed our cat Pauly was playing with something. I looked closer and realized it wasn't Pauly but rather a kitten with the same markings as Pauly. I said "oh look, a kitten." Hubby exclaimed "oh no. we have cats," much in the same way someone would complain about having a cockroach problem or gophers in the back yard. Then out from under the bed about 5 more kittens came out. One of them a patagial body, like a flying squirrel. The markings  formed a big red diamond shape in the middle of its back and rays radiated down to the skin flaps. It looked like a cape that Elvis would wear. I wanted to keep him.


Question - Am I using the word "patagial" correctly?

A Good Word Goes a Long Way

I was an administrative assistant and executive assistant for quite some time. Although I'm not anymore I'm still aware of what it's like to be one and the things they do to keep things running smoothly.  One of my biggest things one has to accept in being an admin is that one does not always get the recognition one deserves, or get credit for the work one does. In my job now I still work with the admin team to run events and such.



This morning I was at the coffee machine grabbing my cup of morning caffeine goodness. This woman who works in a completely separate department from me was getting her morning fix as well. I don't really work with this woman. Our jobs don't intersect. In fact, if we both didn't get our coffee at the same time in the morning or our tea the same time in the afternoon, I would have no real reason to interact with her. I mean, she's really nice and stuff, we just don't have any opportunity for our jobs at work to interact. Anyhow, she told me that this morning she saw my co-worker and I do some "behind the scenes" work in the office. Actually, we were polishing the Riedel glasses. (In my office, having sparkling wine glasses is important.) She said she wondered if anyone realized how much work we do and if they appreciated it. Then she stopped pouring her coffee and told me that she appreciated it. She knew it was a lot of work and she was thankful that we did it.

It really made my day.

Dessert!

I made my first Paleo dessert last night, and I'm not just talking about cutting up some fruit and putting it in a pretty dish.

So if you pay any attention to this blog in the last year or so you'll know that The Hubby and I have been working really hard to change the way we eat. We've changed our eating habits to reflect a more Paleo way of eating.

Wanting something sweet I made this; Brownie in a Mug from Paleo Desserts. It was pretty good. It wasn't the best consistency ever, but the taste was just what I wanted. Hubby and The Girl liked the taste but didn't like the texture.

So this recipe was GFV (gluten free vegan). I'm not vegan, and I don't have a gluten intolerance. Paleo says no gluten, which is why I made it. I have no problems eating animals or the products they produce. I mean, I don't think hunting for sport is OK. If you're going to kill an animal you should eat it, but by and large I believe that my teeth were made to bite and tear, which is perfect for eating animals. Truth be told, The Hubby is more strict about it than I am. At home I do a good job eating the right things. At work I do a pretty good job. If there's leftover lunch from some meeting I'll usually eat it. Sometimes saving a bit of money wins over eating right. When traveling for work I suck-diddly-uck at it especially since I travel to places where I have to eat in restaurants every night and not cook my own food. I try but it doesn't always work. Also, I'm not a diva about it. I'm not above taking one for the team. If I'm given a plate of food, sometimes I'll just eat the Paleo stuff and leave the rest alone. Sometimes I cave and eat it, like at my niece's wedding last month. I got the beef. The beef came with some really yummy looking mashed potatoes. I had a bit of the mashed potatoes. I'm not perfect, and the mashed potatoes were delicious. Also, if you saw me at the zoo today you saw  me take a few bites of my kids' dippin' dots. I try, but I'm weak.

Anyhow, I strayed from the recipe a bit in that I baked it in a water bath. I thought it would be safer to cook the ramekins in something rather than just on the rack. It didn't solidify as much as I wanted to. I think next time I make it I'll add an egg. It might make the texture less grainy. The flavor of the Brownie in a Mug was really good, but I think something to make it more brownie, less brownie batter-like will make it even better.

 

My Favorite Store

THE BEST .. (I'll say it again) .. THE BEST toy store in the whole wide world is Archie McPhee.

Need a Magical Unicorn Mask? They got it.
Need a Yodeling Pickle? Look no further.
Do your hands need underwear? Try Handerpants.

Just look at it. How could you not love this place?



Once I saved all my change for one whole year and spent the whole lot at Archie McPhee. It was fantastic. I got to shop in the actual store when we drove through Seattle on the way to my folks' house. When Hubby found out I had spent over $200 at the best toy store ever he was a little mad. Money is tight, y'know. His being mad for having spent so much money was ameliorated by me telling him where the money came from but he was still mad that I had over $200 of McPhee Magic that we had to carry across 3 states in our car, and then it would clutter the house.

That was easily 10 years ago, if not a few more. I've since then amassed a great fortune in Archie McPhee products. So much so that Hubby has put a lifetime ban on me buying anything from that store ever again, unless it was for someone else and it would never, ever be in our house.

So yesterday when I got home I got a big surprise. There was a box on the stairs with those magical words "Archie McPhee" written all over it. I smiled. Then a wave of panic washed over me. I blurted out "I swear I didn't buy anything at Archie McPhee." Turns out Hubby wasn't home so I texted him "I swear on my honor I did not spend money at McPhee.com."

The kids were home, though. They hovered over me until I opened the box and then dove into it as soon as the tape was removed. I had to shoo them away so I could dive in myself. It was my box. Why should they get to go first?

Here's what was inside -
  
 
plus a few other things I can't remember right now but they are just as cool and fantastic and magical as the stuff I just listed above.

Turns out my birthday is next week. My good friend E had sent the package. Hooray for me and thank you E. For my 16th birthday she gave me a 6 pack of Mountain Dew, which I probably drank to my head. This year's birthday present is pretty much just as cool. Thanks E!

San Francisco I Am Coming Back Again

I seem to hear the fog horns calling me.
I seem to hear the surf at Ocean Beach
And from Sutro Heights, I seem to see the lights of the City that is very dear to me.

I seem to see the windmills in the park
The Farrallons and the sharks
In fancy I am lead back to Mt. Davidson
San Francisco, I am coming back again.



                                

In Which a Golfer from Ottawa Saved Me From a Drunk Girl

I'm in Upstate New York right now visiting my company's Mother Ship.

Not quite used to the 3 hour time difference, when I got back to my hotel room last nightI put my head down on the bed and the next thing I knew it was 3 hours later.

I woke up, brushed my hair and went down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner.


I sat at the bar. I ordered a glass of wine and a cheeseburger.

Sitting two seats away from me was a woman. She started talking slurring to me. For the first five minutes of our conversation I was entertained. She told me she was local, she was the oldest of 7, not married, no kids, but she had 14 nieces and nephews, 8 of whom were under 5 years old. She also noted that she lived not too far away from the hotel and didn't have anything in her house to eat, and didn't feel like going to the grocery store to get something to cook, besides, she was craving her favorite drink, Captain Morgan and Diet Coke (yuck, I know).

By the time my burger came I was ready to be rid of this woman. I was no longer entertained. I thought that she'd leave me alone if I pretended to be really really interested in the burger in front of me and the baseball game on the TV. I was wrong. She kept talking, and starting every sentence with "I schwear to god . . ." and "Sssserioussllly . . ."

Just about the time the woman was ordering her 3rd Captain Morgan and Diet Coke a man came up to me and asked very politely if I would scoot over a seat so that he and his friend could sit together. Instead of sitting closer to the drunk lady I scooted the other way. The men sat down. I look over at the one sitting next to me and thanked him. He looked at me funny.

We talked for a moment. He was Canadian and in town for a golf tournament. I told him I was from San Francisco and in town on business. Our entire interaction lasted about 30 seconds. He and I were both satisfied with the brevity of our conversation and didn't talk any more. In the meantime, Captain Morgana, in an attempt to be charming and friendly, spilled her purse all over the lap of the guy who sat next to her, laughed it off, ordered another drink and kept talking.

I finished my burger, got a second glass of wine to take back to my room. As I was leaving the bar the man stopped me, motioned to Captain Morgana and said "now I understand why you thanked me."

I smiled, wished him luck, then went back to my room, drank my wine and watched TV until I fell asleep.

Say Cheese!

This weekend we went to my niece's wedding in Victorville, CA. I gave The Boy my camera to take some pictures of my niece's special day.

Enjoy.

I would like to give The Bride and Groom my very best wishes and hopes for the future filled with love and good humor.
Also, I wish for them an 8GB memory card and unlimited batteries for their camera when their kiddies are old enough to push buttons.

We Could Talk or Not Talk Forever and Still Find Things to Not Talk About

At work I take lunch around the same time everyday. Sometimes I bring my lunch. Sometimes I buy my lunch. Most of the time whether I bring or buy, I eat in the same spot.

Here's a pic of the eating area in my office. Not so bad, eh?

There are a few different people in the office who take lunch around the same time I do. I have to say I'm pretty lucky in the "those-who-take-lunch-around-the-same-time-I-do" department.

Today I had lunch with one of my lunch buddies. He sat at one end of the table and I sat at the other. I ate my lunch, he ate his. I read my book. He read his magazine. We heard some really loud horns coming from the Bay. It was really loud. It sounded like two cruise ships yelling at each other. We both looked up at each other, shrugged, half smiled then got back to reading and eating.

When he finished, he cleaned up his stuff and told me it was very nice to have lunch with me today. He totally meant it.

I really like that there's no uncomfortable silence between us. There's no need to break the silence with useless noise just so there would be noise. He just wanted to eat his lunch and read his magazine. I just wanted to eat lunch and read my book. For the record, we do talk. We talk everyday. Sometimes we joke. Sometimes we tell stories. Sometimes we complain about work. Today was just a no-talking day and that was fine with the both of us.

Put the Eggs in the Coconut Flour and Mix it All Up

This morning I tried my had at making pancakes made with coconut flour instead of using pancake mix, bisquik or whole wheat flour.

Here's what they were supposed to look like.

Mine did not look like that.

I used the recipe from this website. The directions were easy to follow. I wasn't sure what coconut nectar was so I skipped it. Nectar, to me, suggests something sweet. I was going to use some honey but I tasted the pancake batter and thought it was sweet enough. I don't like my pancakes too sweet. I like my toppings to be sweet. I don't think that by not adding the coconut nectar I messed them up.

The recipe said to make them small. So glad I did. They were super delicate and broke easily. I also had a hard time telling when it was just the right time to flip them over. They don't bubble in the same way as traditional pancakes.

The Boy didn't like them. He said they were too coconutty. The Girl said they were just OK but then changed her tune after she  drowned them in butter and syrup. I'm not sure if Bean had any. I left the house for the morning before she ate her breakfast, but when I got home, I ate the leftover pancakes and offered her a bite. She wouldn't eat any. I don't know if it was because she was full or if she didn't like it. Hubby said they were good but he could tell they were full of fiber. I liked the flavor, but thought the mouth-feel was grainy.

I would definitely make them again. I wonder if using a different recipe would produce a less grainy product. Then again, maybe it's just a characteristic of coconut flour. It'll be both yummy and fun finding out.

My Birthday Came Early

OK, my birthday didn't really come early, but I did have my yearly mammogram early this year. I usually have it closer to my birthday. It felt a little weird having it a little earlier than usual, like my schedule wasn't quite right. It's sort of like when the time changes and you change the box of baking soda in the refrigerator and change the batteries in the smoke detector. I have mammograms close to my birthday. Seems fitting. My birthday is in October. October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Makes sense, to me at least.
Kaiser was totally on the ball, though. They called me in June telling me it was time. I blew them off because I knew I was going to have one in October. They kept calling and bugging me. I gave in and had my appointment. I wasn't trying to not have one, I just didn't want one until my self-appointed time.

Guidelines say if you're over 40 you should have a mammogram every 2 years. Kaiser will cover mammograms every year. I have one every year, but if you recall, I didn't have one last year as I was breastfeeding at the time. While the American Cancer Society says I could have had one, they also say that they may be not as accurate as breast tissue is more dense. Also, I had spent the 4 months prior to that being poked and prodded before the baby was born that I was a little sick of all the doctoring I had to endure.

Anyhow, I got it done and just like in the past, the procedure took about 10 minutes. It doesn't hurt, but it is a little uncomfortable.
While I was in the waiting area I took some selfies.



Afterwards I went to Sugarbowl Bakery and got some pork buns for The Girl and The Boy.

If you're over 40, get a mammogram every year. Whatever your age is, do self checks.

Until next year . . . . .

The Pitfalls of Marriage

I've worked at a lot of restaurants.

When I was 17 I worked at a restaurant called "Skinny Haven." The restaurant no longer exists. It was basically a Weight Watchers restaurant. All of the menu items had exchange counts listed (this is when Weight Watchers used exchanges instead of points). On many mornings before the restaurant opened there were Weight Watchers meetings. After the meeting everyone would step on the scale then take a seat in one of the booths and order breakfast. Since the restaurant doesn't exist anymore, there isn't a website to link to, but I found this restaurant review. In it the reviewer calls the place a "health-conscious restaurant." Everything came to the restaurant (mostly) pre-cooked and pre-packaged. The cooks would unpackage all the meals and assemble according to the pictures they had pasted to the walls inside the kitchen and pop it in the microwave for a pre-specified amount of time. It was all flavored with artificial seasonings, sweetened with artificial sweeteners and filled with artificial flavors. Sure, everything was low calorie, but that was the only thing it had going for it. Low Calorie foods was the goal, not food rich in protein and nutrients our bodies need. The ice cream they had, I have to say, was kinda good, but it was in no way good for you. It was dehydrated non-fat milk, fake sweetener, flavor and water that was frozen and whipped together to a sort of soft-serve consistency. Nothing, save for the actual vegetables on the salad bar was good for you. After Skinny Haven I got a job at a restaurant near the Queen Mary called The Reef. I didn't work there very long. I showed up for work one day and the place had burned down. When it was rebuilt I wasn't rehired. Turns out The Reef had seen more than a few fires in its day, only to be rebuilt and re-opened with new management and a new staff. I also worked at El Torito and a hamburger joint called Hof's Hut. Hof's had pretty tasty hamburgers. One time while working there I licked a piece of lettuce on a salad and gave it to a customer I didn't like. Then when I moved to San Francisco I got a job at a pizza place that has since closed. I've written about that place before. Worst job on my psyche ever.

All of the restaurants were different from each other. All had their own charm (or lack thereof). They all had one thing in common, though. At every restaurant, part of my sidework was to marry the ketchups. It was so gross. We had to balance a 1/2 full ketchup bottle on top of a 1/2 empty ketchup bottle and turn them into one full ketchup bottle. It didn't matter if they were different brands. It didn't matter if they were different ages. At the end of every shift, all of our ketchup bottles needed to be full so that the next day every customer could have a full ketchup bottle on their tables. Sometimes we'd use a little hot water from the coffee machine to loosen up the last bits of ketchup in the bottle. Sometimes instead of playing the bottle balancing game we would use a ketchup funnel. Sometimes the ketchup would be so old that it would ferment and explode a bit when opened. I hated marrying ketchup. And it wasn't just ketchup. We had to marry a whole host of condiments; mustard, mayonnaise, A-1 Sauce, hot sauce. And sometimes, when there was no more ketchup (or other condiment) to marry, we would open a #10 can (or giant tub) of the necessary condiment and pour brand new condiment in the old condiment container. We never washed any of them, save for the lids which we soaked in hot water to get all the dried crud off while we were marrying the condiments.

So this morning I went to the cafeteria in my office complex to get some eggs. You can get two scrambled eggs and bacon for $3. It's a pretty good deal. After I paid I went to the condiment counter to sprinkle some yummy Tapatio  hot sauce on my eggs. I had long suspected that this place marries their condiments and today I got my confirmation. In marrying the hot sauces, they neglected to put that little plastic insert back in the bottle, you know, that little piece of plastic that makes the hot sauce come out in measured drops. I ended up dumping 1/2 a bottle of Tapatio on my eggs.

Man, that sucked. I knew I should have gone for the Cholula.

How Was Your Weekend?

It's Monday. Did you have a nice weekend?

I hear or ask that question at least 20 times every Monday.

"Did you have a nice weekend?"
"Yeah, thanks. How was yours?"
"Pretty good. It was (relaxing, busy, hot, etc.)"

Do we really want to know how our co-workers' weekends were or are we just making conversation to fill the silence while we wait in line for our coffee?

I think most people don't want to hear about what I did over the weekend. I think just telling them "Fine thanks, how was yours," is sufficient.

Most of the time I'm looking for a similar answer to come out of them, unless of course they did something really exciting like skydiving or shark hunting.

So here's what I did . . .

Friday - The Girl was out with her friends doing whatever they do at the Mall. When I was her age I would try on dresses, play with makeup and look for boys. I assume she was doing something similar. Hubby, The Boy, Bean and I ordered Chinese food and watched TV.

Saturday - The Girl went to work. Hubby worked on his computer while The Boy, Bean and I walked to the strip mall by our house. We stopped outside of Petco to watch the groomers pick foxtails out of a dog's fur. We went into Payless to see if there were any sandals I'd like (there weren't) then The Boy said really loudly "Holy Crap those are awesome Spiderman shoes!!!" I told him not to say "Holy Crap" and then he got mad at me because I wouldn't buy him the awesome Spiderman shoes. Then we went to Radio Shack to buy a graphing calculator for The Girl. They were out. Then we went to Ross to see if there were any dresses I would like (there weren't). Then The Boy got really really mad at me for not buying him a Batman sweatshirt that was 2 sizes too small for him. Then we went to Big 5 to buy The Girl a sports bra for PE class. Then we went to Noah's to get The Boy a bagel dog but he wouldn't let me order it because it didn't look enough like a hot dog. Then we went to Lucky to pick up a few groceries. While we were there we ran into a mom of one of The Boy's classmates. While we were talking, The Boy saw an Optimus Prime greeting card that had a few sheets of stickers inside. He freaking lost his mind that I wouldn't buy it for him. Like EPIC lost his mind, all in front of his classmate's mom. I was so super embarrassed. We ended up buying deodorant and formula. We got home and I washed dishes while Bean played, Hubby worked and The Boy sulked, lamenting his lack of awesome Spiderman shoes, Batman sweatshirt and Optimus Prime greeting card.

Sunday - The Girl went to work. She also got a mosquito bite on her eye which made her eye all swollen. Hubby, The Boy, Bean and I went for a walk. After about an hour Hubby went home while the Kiddies and I went to the playground. When The Girl got home from work we drove to Best Buy to buy a graphing calculator. They had them, but they were expensive. Then we went to Office Depot. They were closed. Then we went to another Office Depot. They were also closed. Then we went back to Best Buy and bought the expensive graphing calculator. The Boy was mad that it was an awesome calculator and scolded me for buying The Girl an awesome calculator. Then we stopped at Trader Joe's to get groceries and dinner. When we got home I took out a chicken breast that we had just bought at TJ's and it super stank so I cooked some sausages for The Kiddies and split a steak with The Hubbs. Bean ate a whole buncha feta and tomatoes. Finally everyone went to bed, including me.

Definitely not skydiving or shark hunting.

Always Wear Sunscreen - A Book Review

Last week I read a status on my Facebook page. The writer of that status stated she hated a book called The Humans by Matt Haig. I decided to look up the book and see what it was all about. Sounded right up my alley; a book about someone trying to figure out an unfamiliar situation. There's math and science in it, but not so much I don't understand the concepts. There's romance, teen angst, and a bit of humor. I went online, placed a hold on it at the library and waited for it to show up at my local branch. I picked it up on Saturday and finished it last night.

The Humans is about this guy from a hyper-intelligent species from outer space.  This spaceman comes from a species who never die, know no pain, love, joy, heartache, etc. They have no relationships with each other. There is no sort of bonding with anyone. Logic rules their world and dictates how they live.

In the book the spaceman has to go to Earth and kill a mathematician who solved some math problem involving prime numbers. After killing him, he takes his form and sets to complete his mission by killing all those who might know about the mathematician's discovery.
While discovering who knows what, he gets to know the mathematician's wife, son, best frenemy and best friend. He kills the frenemy, but as he's trying to suss out what the wife, son and bestie know, he gets to know them and like them and their dog. He falls in love with the wife and builds a relationship with the son and starts walking the dog.  He doesn't want to kill them. The spaceman's bosses get angry. In the end he decides he wants to stay human and live painfully ever after.

Like I said, the book seemed right up my alley. I was a little bit wrong. The story itself is pretty entertaining. but it was lacking and I felt like it wasn't all that original. It was sort of like a cross between the writing of a lazy man's Douglas Adams and that poem / speech that was popular in the early '90's about not forgetting to wear sunscreen, with a little bit of Desiderata thrown in for good measure.

I betcha Hollywood will eat it up, and I'm such a sucker that I'll see the movie when it's made, but not so much of a sucker that I'll pay for it; I'll watch it when it winds up on Starz.

Wil Wheaton Made Me Cry at Work

WHEEAAATTTOOONNNNN!

Darn it Wil Wheaton. You made me get weepy at work.

My favorite author is Douglas Adams. He's dead now and can't write anymore. That makes me sad. I got to meet him about a year before he died. It was really cool. I got to tell him what he did for me. Here's what he did ...

Growing up I never felt like I fit in. I was always the Rhoda, never the Mary. Always the Cousin Oliver. I felt like I was always the geeky or dorky one growing up. I liked things that nobody else liked. I watched things on TV that my classmates hated. I listened to music nobody else liked. I had a strange way at looking at things. My teachers looked at me funny and treated me differently (except for one).  I never really understood what was wrong with me. Then gradually, as I got older I got comfortable with my weird. I even met people who shared my weird, or at least had a weird of their own that co-existed nicely with mine. I even got to marry one of these weird people and make babies with him.

It all started with Taco Bell.

My very first job was at Taco Bell. I was working one night with a cute boy from my high school. He was the super tall and lanky heavy metal guy who could scat. I had a major crush on him. He told me about this book called The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The next day I went to the library and checked it out. I started reading it and didn't put it down until I finished it.
I got two things out of the book;
one - I loved the book. It was a fun story with great characters and lots of really great lines to remember and sometimes incorporate into my everyday speech,
two - (and this is the important part) it taught me that it's OK to be weird. It's OK to be comfortable with the things I like, the things I like to do and the people I like to be with.

Today I saw this clip of Wil Wheaton.

In this video, Wil Wheaton did for tons of struggling nerds/geeks/dorks/misfits, etc., what Douglas Adams did for me. It made me weepy. It made me happy. Thanks Wil.

Thanks Wil. You're a good guy to have in every geek's corner. By the way, we've met before. It was December 1990. You were on a plane from London to LAX. I walked by you as I was boarding. I was staring. You said "Hello." I freaked out and walked away. Sorry.

The Accidental Co-Sleeper

We co-sleep. Or at least we did until last weekend.



I know that people have strong feelings for and against the practice.  Some people argue that co-sleeping is beneficial because it is easier to breastfeed in the middle of the night. It gives mom and baby an extra chance to bond. It helps baby sleep for longer stretches during the night. It reduces stress hormones. Some people argue that co-sleeping is a dangerous practice because of suffocation dangers.

I agree with both sides. Sleeping next to my baby is one of my favorite activities. A sweet-smelling, tiny and cuddly hot water bottle curled up next to me all night long? Yes please!  I don't think I've gotten a good night sleep since Bean was born. We have been sleeping together since day 1. Yes, even while still in the hospital I co-slept with my baby. But the dangers are not lost on me. I've been acutely aware of my actions during sleeping. In the beginning, Bean slept in a little bed that fit between Hubby and me. Then when she got older and too big for the little bed she slept with us in the bed. . . . And she slept with us until last weekend.

Now, I'm not all Mayim Bialik about co-sleeping. I loved it, but I have no aversion to Bean sleeping in her own spot. We started co-sleeping because we didn't have a crib. Then when we did get a crib, we were too stinkin' lazy to set it up. We didn't intend to become co-sleepers. It just happened.

While the last few nights of actually getting to sleep next to my husband, and getting to sleep in a normal position and not curled up all strange so the blankets wouldn't cover Bean's head have been great, I miss waking up to Bean smacking me or kicking me in the face while she stirs in the morning, and I miss seeing her sweet little Mona Lisa smile she first wakes up.

Co-sleeping is not something you have to do. It's something you get to do. There are so many different ways to be a parent. If your baby is clean, happy, fed and loved you're doing a good job. There are many different ways to get there, and as long as you get there, you're doing it right.

Co-sleep. Don't co-sleep. It's up to you. Whatever works for your family. I'm glad she's in her own crib now, but I miss her.

Stacking the Deck

Over the weekend The Hubby and I took The Kiddies to a Festa in Santa Cruz. It's an event we go to every year. I'll write another post about it soon.

One of the things the kids look forward to is playing a raffle type game. I don't know what it's called. We call it The Paper Game. For 10 cents each one is given a tightly rolled piece of paper. The paper is unrolled and if a number and a stamp from the Portuguese Hall is present, one wins the corresponding prize with that number taped to it. Prizes are donated by, I'm guessing, members of the Portuguese Hall. The prizes are as varied as they are interesting, fun or useless. We've won things like potholders, crocheted doilies, vases, trivets, water guns. Really, just about anything could be a prize. Unrolling the paper and finding something written inside is just as fun as exchanging that piece of paper for a prize and seeing what you've won.

The other day I stacked the deck for The Boy. I bought $5 worth of rolled up pieces of paper. He and I sat down and started unrolling. I noticed I had won three things while he had won nothing. When he was getting down to his last few pieces of paper I rolled one of my winning numbers back up and sneaked it into his pile. When he unrolled it and found his number (301) he was so excited. Watching a 5 year old boy smile and scream "YES" and "SWEET" and "OH YEAH" is just about the best thing ever.

We went over to the prize booth and turned in our numbers. It turns out I gave him just the right number. I turned in my numbers and got my prize; two dish towels from crate and barrel. The Boy turned in his number and won . . . . .

. . . . . Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the newest member of our family . . . .

The Boy named him 301.

Khloe Kardashian vs. the CIA - A Dream

Khloe Kardashian and I were trapped inside the CIA headquarters. There was a group of CIA employees who were trying to stage a coup and blow it up. Khloe and I weren't down with that so we tried to stop it. We were caught trying to stop the attack and made to hang out at the bottom of a stairwell and wear weird sci-fi nasal cannulas. Just before we were captured, Khloe got word out by speaking into her half-eaten hard boiled egg that we were in danger. 



We escaped the stairwell but then we saw that we couldn't stop the attack so our tactics changed. Instead of stopping the attack we decided to escape and at least save ourselves. Then Khloe turned into Anne Hathaway and her stupid creepy pixie haircut and all she did was whine and whine and whine. I tried to ditch her because she was bad at being sneaky.

Then my alarm went off so I don't know if we saved the day or just ourselves or failed.

My Favorite Processed Food

I've been posting a lot lately on the changes Hubby and I have been making to our diets. We eat more plants than animals. We keep ice cream, soda, candy, cake, processed food, etc., out of the house. We make Bean's food (cauliflower and apple was the big hit this weekend). We make sure The Girl and The Boy have plenty of fruits and vegetables to snack on at will. We stopped eating white food (white rice, white flour, potatoes). Most of the time we do a great job at keeping the bad stuff at bay.

Most of the time.

Sometimes it is necessary to cheat a little. Sometimes I just can't help it. There is one particularly yummy treat I crave, and when I do there is no stopping it until I give in. I blame thank  credit my oldest sister for introducing me to this disgusting delight.

A few months ago Hubby and I took The Kiddies to Long Beach to spend some time with my sisters and niece and introduce them to the little Pua Bean. My oldest sister was eating queso. I tried it. I loved it. I finished the jar then walked to Vons and bought an even bigger jar. I think it just my be my favorite processed food.

I bought a jar this weekend. Hubby saw it and got fake mad. We split the jar into two ramekins, heated it up and ate it all. 

So good.

Ayyyy! in the Morning

Walking fast down the long hallway towards the staircase in my office along side a Senior Vice President of Something Important

Me - I'm pretending we're racing.
SVP - I'm going to win. I've had more coffee than you.
Me - Yeah, but did you drink your coffee out of a Fonzie Pint Glass?
SVP - *Shakes his head and smiles, takes 3 stairs at a time*

Just like the time when Army Street's Name Turned to Caesar Chavez Street.

I had a dream that I was driving home from work and all of the sudden I decided I needed to drive to Long Beach. I didn't go home. I didn't call anyone. I didn't pack anything. I just up and decided I needed to drive to Long Beach instead of going home. On my way to Long Beach I had a bit of trouble. My car turned into a big red jeep with column gear shifting. I lost my wallet and didn't have any money. Then I lost my phone. I was bummed about this one because I was supposed to meet some friends at the corner of Atherton and Ximeno in Long Beach. Then, while I was trying to get to my destination, my car broke down and I had to ride a bicycle. As I was riding my bike, I came across some ruffians. They took my bike apart. I had to hop over a brick wall to escape them. I ran to the corner of Atherton and Ximeno only to find out that while I had been away, Atherton street's name had been changed to Wilson Street. There was no way my friends were going to find me because they didn't know that Wilson Street used to be called Atherton Street. I went up to a cop and asked him to help me. He started to help me but then found out I was from San Francisco and decided I was on my own. Luckily at that moment my friends found me. I hugged them. The cop shrugged and walked away.

Don't Eat Me!!!!

I don't think my smoothie this morning wanted to be eaten.

The Dinner Bell

I don't know why I didn't do it with my other kids. It's so easy. It's way cheaper. It's way way better for them as well.

 I've been making all of Bean's food. I've been having fun putting together different combinations.
Her food is usually one cooked vegetable blended with one raw fruit. I don't mix in any herbs, butter, sweetener or salt. There's plenty of time for that later, after she's developed a taste for the flavors of what foods naturally offer. The only thing I may add is baby cereal if the mixture is too watery. When it's done I pour it into ice cube trays, cover with plastic wrap and pop in the freezer. When she's hungry, I pop out what she needs, put it in the microwave until it's thawed out half way and stir. The residual heat takes care of the rest of the thawing out. At 9-1/2 months she eats about 6 ice cubes in one sitting, other meals she has yogurt, cottage cheese, scrambled eggs, etc. (plus lately she's been begging for our dinners as well, I think she's on a growth spurt).

Following in the footsteps of her older sister and brother, my little Bean is an eater. So far she hasn't turned down anything I've given her, but I can tell she's developing some favorites.

So far we've tried the following -
Avocado - hit or miss
Bananas - duh, bananas. of course she loves them
Butternut Squash - Meh, she liked it fine
Green Beans and Mangoes - she ate it but she didn't love it
Beets and Blueberries - She loved loved loved it
Broccoli and Apples - Loved it
Sweet Potatoes and Kiefer - I though this one was sour but she really loved it. It froze nicely, too.
Spinach and Apples - This one was by far her favorite.

Knock on wood she doesn't have any food allergies. She's been exposed to some common allergens like peanuts, via her brother's peanut butter sandwich hands and breath all up in her face. She's had things that had mushroom in them, but not had mushrooms by themselves (like in lentil soup). She loves bread and so far her gluten tolerance is perfect (even though as I understand it, gluten intolerance isn't an allergy but rather a body's inability to process it because of a missing enzyme? Do I have that right, my GF friends?). She also doesn't seem to have any issues with dairy as she's had kiefer, yogurt and cottage cheese with no problems.

I'm enjoying feeding my baby.

For those of you who make your baby's food, what do you make? How do you prepare it? Have you come up with any combinations worth sharing?

What's In a Name So Long As All the Letters Are There?

So yesterday I went on a little coffee-fueled rant about how I hate it when people say San Fran instead of San Francisco. Clearly abbreviations bug me.

Strangely, I'm not too bothered when people get my name wrong. I used to get all mad when people would call me ON-drea or an-DRAY-a, but now I just figure why bother,  all the letters are there. And those who totally butcher my name aren't people I'm around a lot so I don't bother correcting them. When it matters, I correct them, when it doesn't, I don't.

On the phone I've been mistaken as Sandra. I think it's because I answer my phone and say "It's Andrea" and my words get slurred a bit.

Today I got called something I've never been called.

I was at Starbucks. I ordered. The guy behind the counter asked me my name and then wrote it down on my cup. When I got my drink, here's what I found.

Henriette. 

.... And Then She Called It "San Fran" -- book review

There's something about "San Fran" that drives me nuts; like fingernails scratching a chalkboard, like teeth scraping against a fork I tell you. It's lazy. It's annoying. It reminds me of  yuppies and affluent baby boomers who have to abreviate all their words to sound cool and efficient, but they really don't. It also bugs me because it sounds disrespectful. I made this city my home more than 20 years ago. I don't have the bragging rights of a native San Franciscan, but I still claim this place as my home.
"Frisco" on the other hand doesn't bug me as much, if it's used in the right context. Hubby once said Frisco represents The City That Dare Not Speak It's Nickname. It conjures up images of The Gold Rush, Emperor Norton (even though he was credited with writing a decree which proposed fining people $25 for calling it by this name), being Shanghied and The Barbary Coast. There's  romance and lore behind "Frisco." "San Fran" is just lazy.

Anyways, I just finished reading Revenge Wears Prada by Lauren Weisburger. I enjoyed The Devil Wears Prada. I figured I would enjoy reading its sequel. Honestly I found it a chore to get through. I think I liked The Devil Wears Prada because I spent a long time being an Executive Assistant. Although the people I worked for were not as evil as Miranda Priestly (in fact, some were quite nice), I understood Andy, the main character's pain. I loved that in the book (not the movie) that Andy gave Miranda the big "F - You" on the streets in Paris. I've worked for a few people who may have needed such treatment a time or two.



Revenge Wears Prada takes place about 10 years after the first book ends. Andy gets married to some rich guy, has a baby, is besties with Emily and she and Em run a magazine together. The publishing company that owns Runway magazine makes a bid for Andy and Emily's magazine. Andy doesn't want to sell. Emily does. They end up selling. Andy gets mad and quits, then divorces her husband and hooks up with her boyfriend from 10 years ago. Nobody took revenge on anybody. Miranda was hardly even in the book. All Andy did was whine throughout the whole book about how much she hated her perfect life. I was really really disappointed in the whole book. I wanted Miranda to get really evil and then have Andy and Emily outsmart her and come out on top. That didn't happen. In the end, nobody was friends anymore, Andy got divorced and the magazine was swallowed up by a publishing giant. I was about 30 pages from the end and I just wanted to quit reading it. I decided to finish it anyhow, and just in the last few pages of the book, Lauren Weisberger referred to San Francisco as "San Fran."

I hate the phrase "San Fran" so much that my review of the book went from "meh" to "F-you and your stupid book on the streets of Paris, Lauren Weisberger."

Can't Get Me Enough of That Robert Langdon - Book Review

I just finished reading Dan Brown's newest book Inferno. Like all Dan Brown books, I had a great time reading it.

I've read all the Dan Brown books I know of, which is I think all of them. All of them pretty much have the same review from me; super fun to read, cartoon action with just the right amount of violence with a "Scooby Doo" ending woven specifically for adults. *antagonist shaking fist* ".... and I would have gotten away with it too were it not for that meddling symbologist."

I've mentioned before that I have a bit of a crush on Robert Langdon. I don't like the Tom Hanks version of him, but I don't quite have a clear picture in my head of what he looks like. I know he's olive skinned. He's kind of like Indiana Jones except he wasn't Han Solo in his past life.

In all the Robert Langdon-themed books Robert Langdon is thrown into some kind of mystery involving 14th Century art and culture where if he doesn't solve the mystery and determine who is the good guy and who is the bad guy before all the sand falls through the hourglass, or bag of plague breaks into the water supply or mason jar of anti-matter explodes, the whole world will be changed forever. There's always some good looking smart woman who teams up with him and (surprise) has all the right language, science or social skills to help him with his mystery. There's always some guy that seems good, but turns out bad. There's always some bad guy who is really, in fact, good, just a little misunderstood.

This formula works for me. I enjoy it. If Dan Brown were to write another book, I would read it. I'd like to suggest, however, he takes a break from Italy. Three Dan Brown books in Italy. That's enough. Take Robert Langdon out of his comfort zone. Make him go on some adventure in Greece. I betcha the Odyssey is rife with mystery and symbols that would make Robert Langdon all excited. Make him go search out something Mayan. Send him somewhere where he can't wear tweed and loafers. Send him to Disneyland and have a whole chapter about how his Mickey Mouse watch gets thrown into a bin of like Mickey Mouse watches and he has to find his lest something apocalyptic happens during the Main Street Electrical Parade. OK, that last one was silly, but sheesh, Dan Brown, let Robert Langdon go somewhere else for a change.

I can't wait for the next Dan Brown book, be it about Robert Langdon, the bored government gister or the wound too tight computer programmer, or some entirely new character.

Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk - A Dream

I was a super sleuth trying to break up a bicycle theft ring at some university. Sometimes it was Stanford. Sometimes it was San Francisco State. We called it Humboldt State.



In part of the dream I was me and in other parts I was Curly of the Three Stooges. When I was Curly I broke away from Larry and Moe to do some surveillance on a pretty sweet unicycle. I saw a guy approach it. He was kinda crusty, had red hair and looked liked he hadn't shaved in a few weeks. He looked at the unicycle and read some numbers from the lock and walked away. I followed him back to his lair, which was a rundown building. He hung out outside with his other crusty friends. I went to go meet up with Larry and Moe. While I was briefing them on what I had just seen, a few frat boys came and sat near us. I had a suspicion the frat boys were spying on us. Turns out they were.

As me, not Curly, I tried to become a member of the crusty group but I had to be careful that the frat boys didn't see me because they knew that I was Curly and they could blow my cover. I became friends with the red headed crusty's girlfriend. She liked squirels. Her boyfriend carried a lute but didn't know how to play it even though he claimed he was really good at it and said he was a writer, but he was a real writer. He wrote with a pencil and paper and didn't waste his time on reading what anyone else had written, especially anything written on or with an electronic device.

Then my alarm sounded and I don't know if the bicycle thieves got caught.

Yesterday I fell asleep with a sweet baby on my chest and a sweet 5 year old at my side. All of us were cuddled under a blanket on the couch.
I dreamed I was at the mall. I was skating around on roller blades. I thought I'd kill some time at the arcade and settled myself in front of a table top pacman game. 1 game was 8 quarters. I said "Screw this" and left.

In Common

What do the following movies have in common?

Independence Day


Moonstruck


Contact


The American President


Trading Places


Sneakers


My Cousin Vinny


Philadelphia




They are all movies I can't turn off until they are over, even if I catch them in the middle. . I have to watch them. I will not be able to turn away. It drives Hubby nuts.