Binge Dreaming

I've been binge-watching Heroes on streaming Netflix lately. About 5 years ago I attempted to watch the series on DVD Netflix. I got almost to the end of the 3rd season then my interest started fizzling out. I decided to give it another shot. I'm at about the spot where I left off the first time around.


I tend to have dreams about things that I binge-watch and binge-read. When I read all the Harry Potter books I had Harry Potter-themed dreams. When I read the Divergent series (well, most of it anyways) I had Divergent-themed dreams. The first time I watched Heroes, I had a Heroes-themed dream.


No exception to the rule, I had another Heroes-themed dream last night.


Someone set me up with this heavy-metal loving guy. His name was Loughran (pronounced lock-run). He was over 6 feet tall, had super long white-blond hair, sported a Canadian Tuxedo, worked as a bar-back at a local sports bar and was deaf. He lived in a small room connected to the sports bar. We were hanging out and talking. I was showing him the swear words I know how to do in sign language. My husband popped his head into the room where we were, but it wasn't my husband, it was Noah Bennet from Heroes, not the guy who plays Noah Bennet, but Noah Bennet. I left the room and walked through the bar. As I was leaving I was approached by a guy in a suit who started telling me it was time to pay back an old debt I owed. I started running away. I was thinking I needed to run somewhere crooked, with lots of twists and turns so the bad guys couldn't find me. I ran down a stair case, like the kind you'd find in a big parking lot. I get to the lower levels and the corridor is filled with water. I make my way up and find I'm being chased. I grab one of the concrete steps I'm running back up and throw it at one of the people chasing me. I throw it, it sails through the air in slow motion and hits the lead person.

Get the Thread Out

Until I got one for a wedding present, I had never had a store-bought blanket. My mom made them all. Some were quilts and some were afghans, but all were home-made. There are some I still use to this day. Some of them my kids have appropriated. Some of them I've kept safe and away from their sticky little grubby hands. My mom was / is always working on something. Once we had a giant quilt-sized tambour frame in our living room for a few months while my mom made a big quilt by hand. Quilt making was the go-to gift for all newlyweds and all babies when I was growing up. All my kids have their own quilts made by their Grammy.


I decided it was probably time to make my own quilt.


Two things happened the year The Girl started 2nd grade.


1) I got a sewing machine for my birthday with the intention of making a quilt.
2) The Girl got a kitten. She named it Pauly. Pauly was a very cute kitten who liked to spelunk the curtains. Today, 9 years later, Pauly is a big fat stupid cat. He is very loving and sweet and doesn't really do anything bad. He's just huge and has a brain the size of a poppy seed.


Excited to start my first quilt I went to the fabric store, bought fabric in complementary colors, created a pattern using my mad MS Excel skills and cut out 4"x4" squares.


I laid out the squares on the living room floor just like my mom does. I lined up my rows in little piles ready to sew, just like my mom.


The first night of sewing, I sewed three or four rows of squares.


Being lazy and not thinking, I didn't put the sewing machine away when I got tired. I left it on the table and went to bed.


When I woke up the next morning and the spool of thread was on the floor, all unraveled, and most of it missing.  The cat was in the corner of the kitchen trying to hack up thread.


Not knowing how much he had eaten or how serious the situation was, we all went to work and school only to return finding the kitty in the bathtub breathing heavily and not being very responsive. We took him to the pet hospital to learn of our options in helping Pauly get well. Being that Pauly was only about 12 weeks old, being that Pauly was The Girl's first pet of her very own, and being that it was my fault the stupid cat ate the thread in the first place we opted for the most expensive course of action; surgery. At about 12 weeks old our very sweet, cuddly and stupid cat had surgery to get the thread out. The thread he had eaten was all tied up in his intestines, so much so that the doctor had to cut some of his intestines out in order to remove all the thread.


I put the sewing machine back in the box, along with the partially made quilt and never took my sewing machine out again, save for making a few pa'u and bringing it out when my mom visited so she could do my mending.


A few months ago my mom was visiting. I asked her to fix my sewing machine because it was doing something funky, but I don't have the sewing machine vocabulary to explain it to you and you probably don't care anyways. She fixed it. I showed her the quilt I started making 9 years ago. She took it out of the box and put it in her suitcase.


Last night I opened the box of Christmas presents she sent us for the Kiddies. In the box along with the Kiddies' presents was the quilt.


So big giant thank you to my mom for finishing what I started. It is just big enough to fit me and my Kiddies on the couch to make snuggle bugs and cuddle fish while we watch TV.
..... or for Pauly.

Interviewing, Ironing and Interrogating - A Dream

I was in a square room.
There was one door in the top left corner.There was a window in the bottom right corner. On the left side of the room there was a square 2-top table, regular table height. On the right, by the window there was a waist high rectangle 6-top table. The room was kind of dark, not like someone turned the lights off, but rather like someone never turned the lights on.

My old boss and some man were sitting at the 2-top table. My old boss was interviewing the man but not for a job. He was interviewing him for some kind of school project.

I was at the waist-high 6 top table ironing napkins and doing paperwork, aware of the interview going on but not paying any attention to it. 

All of the sudden I felt a nudge and a rush of air. One of my napkins and a pen went flying. I looked towards the door in the top left corner and saw a blurry shadow leave the room. I followed it. When I exited the room I was in the long hallway of the house I grew up in before it was remodeled. My oldest daughter was just making her way into the bedroom (the bedroom that got turned into the entry-way for the 2-3 readers who remember what the house looked like). I realized it was her. She was the gust of wind and the blurry bit in the room sneaking past me. I asked her why she was sneaking around. She told me that she wasn't really doing anything, just out with her friends. She told me it wasn't a big deal. Besides, she said, it's not like she was in Tennessee like she was last week when she sneaked out to buy a $300 entomology / biology book because she thought it would be a good read. I could see how I would never know she was missing because the time difference is 3 hours and she flew three hours there and three hours back so she got home at roughly the same time she left (it made sense in the dream) but how did she get the money for the plane fare and the book?

Morrissey Was Wrong. There Isn't a Light that Never Goes Out.

For a very long time I was a closet Morrissey fan. See, I was this blue eye shadow wearing, big hair, heavy metal loving chick. I didn't want anyone to know that sandwiched between my Scorpions and White Snake albums there was a The Smiths album hoping it wouldn't be discovered.



As I got older I realized that there's a lot of music out there and it's OK to like more than one kind. I started to openly embrace my other music interests, even if they seemed in conflict with each other. Just as it was OK for Judas Priest to do a really fantastic cover of Joan Baez's Diamonds and Rust, it was OK for me to put Freddy Fender, Ozzy Osbourne and  Siousxie and the Banshees on one mix tape.

Anyhow, there's a guy who comes into my office every few months. He works for my company but doesn't work out of my office. He comes in for meetings and such. He's a pretty nice guy, but that's beside the point. I mention him because he looks very very much like Morrissey; hair and everything.

I told him one day that I thought he looked like Morrissey and he had no idea who I was talking about. It puzzled me. This guy is only maybe 5 years older than me. He seems like in his younger days he was kind of hip. I explained to him who Morrissey was and he looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears.

So this Morrissey look-a-like is in the office today. I asked my coworker, who is about 15 years older than me if he thought this guy looked like Morrissey. He didn't know because he had no idea who Morrissey was. Another co-worker came up. He's about 15 years younger than me. He had no idea. I asked another co-worker who looks about my age. She had no idea either.  Who are these people that they don't know who Morrissey is?

Their response was "oh I don't listen to that kind of music." That argument didn't hold water with me. I have no knowledge of Jay Z's music. I couldn't identify a Dave Matthews song if I heard it. I can't even tell you anything about Blake Sheldon's music. But I know that they are performers. I know that they play music. It seems logical to me that someone in my age bracket should at least know of the existence of Morrissey.

The only person in my office I've found (actually, he found me) who knows who Morrissey is, and who is a bigger fan than I am, is this guy I used to work with. He still works here but my job and his job don't cross paths anymore. When we worked together he would put Morrissey and The Smiths lyrics as the subject lines in his emails. For example, when he would want to know when I would have a particular piece of information available for him to look at he would put "how soon is now" in the subject line. (Ironically, he doesn't think this guy looks very much like Morrissey, though but I think it's because they don't act alike, and he's just confused.)

Anyhow, I'm really bothered by this. Bothered enough to type furiously.

Mike Rowe is a Gentleman and a Liar - A Dream (just a fragment)

Note- Just a fragment of a dream I had. I can't remember the whole thing. Darn. I like Mike Rowe.
Side note - I think I saw him a few weeks ago. I was at the Lombard gate going into the Presidio and someone who looked just like him walked in the crosswalk in front of my car. I'm not sure if it really was him, but it could have been. He lives in San Francisco, right?


Anyways, onto my dream.


My dad set me up with Mike Rowe.


I was living in the house I grew up in. Mike Rowe and I were in my old bedroom. We ended up hanging out all night long (he was a total gentleman, of course). I told him my dad was going to be mad he stayed so long. He assured me my dad would be fine with the whole thing because he was the one who set us up in the first place. I told him that was a big fat lie but we laughed about it anyways.

Tweed Baby - a dream

Note - I'm not sure if this counts as a celebrity dream because no celebrities actually made an appearance, but one was mentioned.


I was at some kind of hula show / poetry reading in a long narrow living room. I was sitting on the floor. A baby crawled up to me so I picked him up and put him on my lap. He was wearing a tweed jacket with elbow pads, jodhpurs and a flat cap. He promptly snuggled in and fell asleep.


When the show was over a couple came up to me and thanked me for taking care of her baby. She told me his name was Halstead and he was 2 years old. I told her I had a baby who was 2 as well. She and I immediately exchanged phone numbers and set up a playdate for our kids.


Then her husband pulled me aside and whispered in my ear "You know who that is, don't you? That's Lauren Bacall's grandson. My wife is her daughter."


Then I heard the "boom boom" of an ipu-heke and panic set in. I was late for class. I ran over to the room where I was supposed to be and although some of the dancers were lined up in their pukas, most of them were sitting on and around picnic tables selling crafts and making crafts.


I snuck in anyway so nobody would know I was late.

Naked Naked Naked

So we have a bunch of apples from my father-in-law's tree. I've been thinking for the last few days that I should make some apple sauce. The Boy likes applesauce. I thought it would be a nice treat for him. I thought I would make cranberry-apple sauce because I had a bag of cranberries and I thought it would be yummy. I shared my idea with The Boy. My idea was met with total disdain. Cranberries are yucky and stupid, he said. I made cranberry sauce anyways. I had to cook dinner still and wash some dishes. I didn't feel like peeling 20 baseball sized, oddly shaped apples.

I started making the cranberry sauce then realized I didn't have any juice. I never drink juice. I rarely, if ever, have it in the house. Then I remembered I was feeling a little run down last week and bought some green juice to boost my immune system. Then I forgot about the juice and it sat in my fridge for a week. Hmmm, I thought. How would it work in the cranberry sauce?

You know what? It turned out pretty good. I thought it would turn a funky color, but it didn't. It's not a bright yummy color that traditional cranberry sauce is, but rather a deeper red. I thought it would taste Spirulina-y but it didn't. I'm quite pleased with the results.

In the future will I seek out Naked Juice - Green Machine for my cranberry juice's secret ingredient? Probably not, but it worked for this batch of cranberry sauce.

Here's the recipe --

5 Cutie Tangerines peeled and sliced (you could supreme it but I didn't have the patience for it. Also I have a pretty good hang-nail going on and didn't want to get citrus juice in it. I hate it when hang nails sting.
1 bag of cranberries (the size you get at Trader Joe's, but I'm not all that brand-loyal so use whatever kind you like)
1 bottle of Naked Juice - Green Machine
1 Softball sized Golden Delicious Apple (The sauce looked like it needed either less liquid or more chunks so I added an apple)
Some kind of sweetener (I used honey)

Simmer in a heavy-bottom sauce pan until it all the fruit is broken down and it looks how cranberry sauce should look, but not the kind that slides out of the can.

My sauce this time around isn't super sweet. It would go very nicely with some pork or chicken, or turkey if you're into that sort of thing. Turkey is OK, but it's not a pork chop. Some kind of savory meat, maybe seasoned with rosemary and black pepper would be good with this cranberry sauce. I almost used truffle honey but thought that might be a bit much. Maybe next time.

Overall I was pretty pleased with my cranberry sauce prowess and innovative skills.

Enjoy.

Do the Arthur Fonza-latte!

Has anyone ever just made your day? It's great, isn't it?


Thanks to a very nice person in my office, my day was made this morning. Lookie what I found on my chair at my desk this morning. I got a present.

And if that wasn't enough to make my day, I also got to open the present. Sweet!

Wanna know what was inside?

YES! a new Fonzie Cup!

I quickly ripped open the package, pulled out the Fonzie cup, tore the lid off of my paper cup and poured my tea into the brand new Fonzie cup.

Just as I remembered. The glass is just the right circumference that it's not too big for my hand. The glass is also the perfect thickness that I can put a hot beverage inside and it won't get too hot to hold.

So Thank You very nice person in my office for gifting me with a new Fonzie cup. You completely and totally made my day. 

For that, I invite you to Do The Fonzie .......

Tiny Mango Ninjas Stabbing My Tongue

Today The Girl and I spent the day together.

We went to enjoy some sunshine in Noe Valley.

Here we are at the beginning of the day.

We went to a bird store

We went to a bookstore

We sat outside, drank coffee and kombucha and painted in a parklet

Then we got haircuts

It was a good day.

We Are Gathered Here Today . . . . .

Dearly Beloved,

We are gathered here today to say goodbye to my cup, my favorite cup, my Fonzie cup.

Just about every morning I would enjoy a cup of coffee, an Arthur Fonzilatte out of it. And in the afternoon it wasn't unheard of for me to have Fonzie Tea. I also have fond memories of reaching for my Fonzie up to have a glass of water.

Yes, that's you on the right. My favorite cup. Your brother on the left met his end pretty quick when I left him in the sink over night and the decal on the glass slipped off. From then on I was always careful not to leave you in the sink and not to submerge you in water except for when washing.

Then this morning, this dreadful morning as I was getting a glass of water from a different cup my elbow knocked you off the counter. You fell to the floor with a big crashing noise and shattered into little pieces.

You were a great cup. When I put hot things in you, you didn't get too hot to hold. When I put cold things in you, you didn't create too much condensation on the outside, thus making you slippery. You were easy to wash; my hand and the sponge could get all the way to the bottom of the glass to wash you without any problem. You didn't leave rings on the table.

You were a great cup. I will miss you.

.... And the Horse You Came in On, An Open Letter to Peet's in Embarcadero Station

So today I needed a second cup of coffee. I usually do go with just one in the morning before I leave the house, but today, two was necessary. It was so necessary that I couldn't wait to get to the office for my cup of joe.


I went to the Peet's inside Embarcadero Station.


Now I love me some savory scones. I was excited to see they had a kale and cheddar scone. I ordered one. I think they get their scones from Raison D’être. Super yummy scones, for sure. Not enough places have savory scones and I was happy to see it there.


While I was waiting for my coffee with room (which had no "room," btw) I thought it would be nice to get a marble loaf for my co-worker. We are having a busy week and I though he would appreciate the treat. I asked the cashier "Pip" for a marble loaf slice. He looked at me, put his arms akimbo, cocked his head to the side and said "You want a Kale and Cheddar Scone AND a Marble Loaf? I looked at him and said "yes, and a small coffee."


OK, maybe I am PMSing and just read the guy wrong, but really?


That is not your job, Pip. Your job is to sell stuff, not to judge the customer to her face. Your job is to sell stuff and if you would like, you're free to go in the back and make fun and judge all you want, but in front of the customer, it's your job to sell. Buy adding that extra marble loaf I increased the sale in that transaction by 30%. I'll be sure to never do that again.


Love,
Andrea


P.S. I am not a crackpot

Gluten Free Vegan Goodness. Huh.

You know me. I like food.

I try to eat more vegetables than non-vegetables. I try to eat food that's in season and food that comes from local sources. I try to limit my carbs and not have them at every meal. I prepare most of my own food and don't buy prepared food from the freezer section. I don't worry about food allergies

I say all this because of the delicious dessert I had tonight.  It was Vegan, Gluten Free, Raw and Sugar Free. I didn't buy it because it had those qualities. I bought it because it sounded really really freaking good. I had it once before tonight and I had been looking for it ever since. I bought it at one of the Food Wholes in The City. I found it in the cold case next to the bakery department. I don't go to The Food Whole very often but every time I went I looked for this treat in the same spot. Unfortunately I came up with snake eyes every subsequent time and couldn't find it.

Tonight the Kiddies and I went to a different Food Whole. I was kind of meandering through the aisles while my youngest nibbled on the hard boiled egg we had pilfered from the salad bar (it was necessary to keep her quiet and usually a nibble on the salad bar does the job) when I came upon a cold case in the frozen aisle. Oh my gosh, it was there. This yummy yummy delight was there. I bought a container and after the two littles had gone to bed, my oldest and I, with spoons in hand, dug in.  So yummy.

So what was it? What was it that was so delicious even though it didn't contain all the traditional dessert stuffs? Cacao-Coconut Mousse. It's made from Coconut Cream, Dates, Cacao, Carob, Spices and some good 'ole Citric Acid.

So it's rich and creamy and doesn't have the sticky mouth-feel that I get from dates (even though I love dates because they are so yummy I don't like the sweaters they leave on my teeth). It has little bits of coconut in it; not a whole lot but enough to notice. The coconut cream sits on your tongue and sort of melts and coats your taste buds.

It is super rich and The Girl and I were only able to eat a few big spoonfuls each, but that's OK because that means there is more to love tomorrow, and possibly the next day.

So thank you Shakti Distinct Desserts from Planetary Products in Berkeley, CA. You made a delicious dessert and it looked so delicious I didn't dismiss it when I saw VEGAN and GLUTEN FREE and NO SUGAR ADDED on the label.

I will buy it almost every time I see it. Now if only Whole Foods would keep it in the same place in every store, and fix their parking lots so that they aren't such a pain in the ass to get in and out of . . . . .but that part isn't your fault and you have no control over that. Also, Whole Foods' parking lots and how crowded, confusing, small and stupid they are is a blog post for another time.

Until I write it, and after I write it as well, please go buy some Cacao-Coconut Mousse, grab a few spoons and share it with your oldest daughter. You'll be glad you did.

And the Award for the Most Expedient Mammogram Goes To .....

Today I had my annual mammogram.



Most expedient mammogram ever; from the parking to the pressing to the pork bun.

It was like I was on a Kaiser conveyor belt, but in a good way. I pulled into the parking lot to find a great parking space waiting for me. I walked over to the elevator and just as I was about to push the button, the elevator opened. I got off the elevator, walked across the lobby and just as I got to the next elevator, another door opened, as though it knew I was coming. I got to the floor where they do the mammograms and there was nobody in line. The receptionist was efficient and friendly. I filled out some paperwork and no sooner did I fill it out did the mammogrammer call my name (pronounced correctly, no less). She led me into the dressing room, gave me a gown and told me she was ready when I was. I walked into the mammogram room, smiled pretty for the camera, and in 5 minutes I was back in the elevator on my way home. (I skipped the pork bun this time - why there is a Sugarbowl Bakery in the lobby at Kaiser, I don't know, but some days I'm sure glad there is. They make great pork buns.)

My mammogrammer was named Lilia. She had great mammogrammar. She didn't tell me to hold still or hold my breath when she was about to take pictures of my girls. Instead she used really great mammogrammar and told me to "Cease Movement" and "Suspend Respiration." Another thing she did was something no other mammogrammer has ever done for me. She showed me my pictures and explained to me what makes a good picture and what makes a bad picture, like making sure you could see certain muscles in various parts of the mammogram to let the doctors know they were receiving a complete image to evaluate.

When you go for your next mammogram, you should have Lilia be your mammogrammer. She'll greet you with a smile, pronounce your name correctly and make you feel well informed and comfortable.

If you're over 40 don't forget to get your annual mammogram. If you're under 40, and if you're over 40 as well, make sure to do regular checks of your girls and to get things checked out if something doesn't feel quite right. Mammograms don't hurt. They are a little uncomfortable, but not painful. Five minutes of a little discomfort is a small price to pay for making sure your chi-chis are healthy, and if you go to Kaiser in San Francisco, you can get a mammogram from Lilia then get a pork bun afterwards.

Tahoe Bubble

Hubby, The Kiddies and I went to Lake Tahoe this weekend. We met a few of our friends and their families and rented a house for the weekend.

Here are some highlights ----

There was a deer head on the wall. We put a hat on it.

There was an ugly mailbox. We had one just like it growing up.

The Boy had enough s'mores to last him a year. He also had on a really cool shirt.

Bean got very dirty. Here she is thinking about how she could get more dirty.

The Girl looked beautiful, as always. 

The highest of highlights of the weekend is that a very good friend of mine came to visit. 

I got to fall ass over tea-kettle while getting out of the hot tub spend time in a hot tub. I got to read my book. I got to relax. We went to the beach. We played with water guns and glow-sticks. I got to dance hula outside under the trees when everyone had gone out for a few hours. I found a new book I want to read. The Boy got to see bear tracks. A few friends got to see a bear making tracks. The Girl earned a few coins to rub together by doing some chores nobody else wanted to do. Bean got to play in the sand at the beach.

There were a few hiccups here and there, but with 4 days, 9 adults, 1 teenager, 1 six year old, two preschoolers, 1 toddler and 3 dogs there are bound to be; each of us have different opinions on TV usage, food, bedtimes, manners, behavior. We made it work, though. Most of us were adults.

Special thanks to EA Awesome for putting together a fab weekend. We don't see you enough. Also thanks to the men who manned the grill. The ribs and sausages were delicious. Thanks to Hubby for doing all the driving there and back.  Thanks to my friend for coming out to visit for a few hours. 

Looking forward to next year.

I Have No Talent - A Dream

Hubby, The Kiddies and I were going on a family vacation with a family we know but aren't really friends with, although in the dream we were. We were all going to travel in a totally tricked out semi truck that had bedrooms, a full kitchen, two bathrooms, a common room and a garden.

We drove for a little while. The wife of the other family stayed in bed sleeping the whole time. We drove to an out of the way place then the family we were traveling with turned into one of Hubby's cousins and a bunch of distant relatives we didn't know, but we knew we were related to. The kitchen was stocked with tons of food and I thought it was weird that there were drawers and drawers of old Paul Masson-type wine bottles filled with milk; enough milk to last the whole journey. Super weird. Why couldn't they just buy it at the stores we encountered on our journey. Then it turned out that the emphasis wasn't really on travel, it was on spending time with the family and we would travel when the older men thought we should.

I went out to the garden and struck up a conversation with a little girl who was poking a stick into a pond and coming up with little salamanders, which she would promptly pop into her mouth. She said it was a tasty snack. She shoved one into Hubby's mouth and he got mad; not because he didn't want to try the pond salamanders but because he was already eating something and didn't want to mix food. I went back into the semi and heard there would be a talent show. I was excited because I had a talent to share. They told me it wasn't that kind of talent show. The only talents they would be featuring were curing meat and saving money. Since hula dancing was neither a component in curing meat nor saving money, I could not participate.

Conversation I Overheard Whilst Peeing

I get it. There are people in this world who don't like coffee. I am not one of them. I love coffee and I drink it every day. I have a cup in the morning and then I usually have a cup when I get to work. On occasion I will get an additional cup. I don't love coffee enough to drink decaf, though. Seems mostly pointless. I don't drink coffee just for the taste. I also need the aroma, the warmth and, let's face it, the caffeine.


So this afternoon I was in the ladies room.. Two women came in and chatted while they were peeing. First it bothered me because I hate it when people talk to me in the bathroom, so in my head it should bother everyone else, too and they shouldn't do it.


Then I started listening to the conversation. They were complaining about one of their co-workers.
This co-worker had a headache and mentioned she should probably have a cuppa joe because she hadn't had any coffee that day.


These two women thought her logic was so stupid. Why would anyone drink coffee when they have a headache and how is it that there's a correlation between a lack of coffee consumption and a having a headache? She should just take an aspirin. That's what will get rid of her headache. She's just stupid for drinking coffee in the first place.


I waited in the hallway, pretending to be talking on my phone so I could see who these girls were. 20-ish hipster girls. Go eat your $10 toast and drink your kombucha, hipster. I'll be with the normal people drinking coffee.

Cholas Stole My Camaro - A dream

I was leaving hula class with my Hula Sister Pat. I had parked my car down the road and she was going to drive me to my car. We were driving down route 185 (a significant, yet made up road in my dream.) We pulled into the parking lot by the gas station and the cowboy-themed old-timey gift shop. As we approached my car, a white Camaro, we saw the car peel out of its parking space and take off. At this point Pat turned into my co-worker Edward. Edward raced down the street in the car while I called 911 to report my car had been stolen by Cholas. Edward's car was u-shaped, kind of like a u-shaped luggage cart at a hotel, except with a stick shift in the middle. I had trouble holding on and dialing 911, plus the 911 operator had trouble hearing me because of all the wind from driving so fast in a u-shaped car.


Then we were in a bar. There was a lot of food set out for our group. I saw a burrito cut up in slices on the table under the dartboard on the wall. I grabbed a slice. Three super douchy guys (like guys who where sunglasses on the back of their heads douchy) who were playing darts told me the burrito was theirs and not part of the food my group had. Then they said I could have a slice of burrito. As I was eating my burrito slice one of the guys started talking to me. It was this guy I went to school with from 3rd grade or so to I think 8th grade. He was super tall and had red hair and liked science. In my dream he was a security guard, not the security guard for the bar we were in, but he was a security guard. He started asking me questions about how a security guard is supposed to get girls.


Then I was back in the car and sometimes on foot being chased by the Cholas who stole my Camaro. The cops sent me the pictures they had on file of two Chola car thieves and wanted me to verify these were the girls they were looking for. I couldn't say for sure. The Cholas caught up with me and I did some serious WWF-style fighting and knocked one of the Cholas out cold.


I got my car back and then the Cholas and I became friends.

Rosco P. Fare Inspector and the Hazzard County Line

Should Muni fare inspectors be allowed to check your proof of payment status outside of proof of payment areas? I asked this question before in 2009. You can read about it on the Muni Diaries website. 5 years later and my question still remains unanswered.




This morning a fare inspector asked for my proof of payment outside of a proof of payment area. I showed it to the inspector but then I asked him why he was checking fares outside of the proof of payment area. I had just hopped off the F-line, but it was not a proof of payment area.


He answered my question Miss-America-Contestant Style by not answering my question, but responding with something only kind-of similar. He said "We're checking proof of payment." I said I realized what he was doing, but had a question about whether or not it was right to check fares on the street where one isn't required to have proof of payment in his possession.


I tried to argue that if I'm standing in a designated proof of payment area the fare inspector can ask to scan my clipper card. I will then show it to him without incident, but if I'm standing on a regular public street, he can't.






Now I know the argument you're going to come back with. It's not like when the General Lee crosses the County Line and Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane screeches to halt and bites his hat because his jurisdiction ends at the Hazzard County Line. If I didn't pay my fare on the train, once I exit the train or exit the proof of payment area the fact still remains that I didn't pay my fare.




But get this, according to Muni's own website, I do cross the proverbial Hazzard County Line once I step out of a proof of payment area. Rosco P. Fare Inspector can't ask me for my proof of payment. I can't be fined for not having paid my fare if I'm checked in a non- proof of payment area; it says so in two separate places on Muni's website.
1. You must have valid Proof of Payment when riding on a Muni rail line or bus route or while within the paid area of Muni stations. 
2. Muni Transit Fare Inspectors may ask you for Proof of Payment on board any Muni rail line or bus route, or in the paid area of Muni Metro subway stations between the Embarcadero and West Portal stations.




Now let me just say I did tag my card. My fare was paid and I was able to prove it. The fare inspector scanned my card and the little screen lit up with a YES in large friendly letters. That's not the issue here, though. The fare inspector was checking fares in a place where he had no jurisdiction. Had he hopped on the train, he would have been in fair (fare) territory. Had he been on one of the platforms between West Portal and Embarcadero Stations, he would have been well within the law to ask to see my proof of payment, and I would have shown it to him. I have a pass. I always tag my card when I get on.


While I was trying to have a conversation with the fare inspector, he got super defensive and started raising his voice. He even "have a nice day, ma'am"-ed me and tried to walk away, like I had no right to ask him a question, or I was just a lunatic (PS, I am not a crackpot). His only response to my question was to say they checked fares on the street to keep the trains running on time. Another Muni fare inspector joined in on the conversation. He at least conceded that my logic was sound, but then added that logic had nothing to do with Muni. He also raised his voice and dismissed me.


I'm sure that the fare inspector is used to people yelling at him and giving him grief. I'm sure that makes him quick to anger no matter what the circumstance. Once he saw that I paid my fare and I wasn't a bad guy, he should have let his guard down a bit, or at least shown a bit of patience and listened to my question.

Dirty Pictures of Lee Majors- A Dream

I was standing in line for the elevator at my work. I decided that I would take the stairs instead. On the way to the stairs a security guard stopped me and told me that building management told him to tell me that  I couldn't pour wine down the sink anymore because it clogged the drain. I asked him if he was telling me specifically or if the message was intended for everyone in my building. He got mad and turned away in a huff. I wrote on the inside of my hand what the security guard had told me. When I got upstairs I started looking for a copy machine to make a copy of what was written on my hand. The first machine I tried was in the data entry department. John Denver and Mark Hamill worked in the data entry department. The copy machine in their department wouldn't capture a picture of my hand. I went to another department to use their copy machine. I found one but it was surrounded by exercise machines. I had to weave my way through the back and forth of the exercise machines. I got to the copy machine and tried to take a photocopy of my hand but all that came out of the machine was dirty pictures of Lee Majors.

I'm an Autumn, with Spring Tendencies

When I was about 12 years old my campfire group had a representative from Merle Norman Cosmetics come to one of our meetings and show us how to put on makeup. It was a big hit.


Afterwards my mom thought it would be fun if she and I went to a makeup class together at the Merle Norman in the Cerritos Mall. It was pretty darn fun, actually. The Merle Norman makeup expert made up one side of my face and I made up the other. We got to choose what colors we liked (based on the color concepts created by Color Me Beautiful, I'm an Autumn). I had a really fun day.


That day must have left an impression on me because I really love going to Sephora with The Girl and playing with makeup. It's fun to try new colors, new shades, fun ways to decorate one's face.


When I was a teenager I wore TONS of makeup. I think I probably kept Wet 'n Wild makeup in business. I certainly had a positive impact on their stock prices what with all the black eyeliner and blue eye shadow I bought, and let's not forget lipstick shade #518.


As I got older my makeup habits relaxed. The truth is I hardly ever wear makeup anymore. I wear it when I have an important meeting at work, when I travel for meetings and when I go to a social event which calls for a little dressing up. I even wear it when I need a little pick-me-up. There's nothing wrong with makeup. There's also nothing wrong with no makeup.


I read an article today that kinda pissed me off and made me a little stabby.


I read this article on Yahoo!.


In it a 20 year old girl from Indiana decided to go a whole year without wearing makeup. She said that she did it because she believes in women's rights and that when she started she felt "uncomfortable, undesirable, and embarrassed."


Then at the end of the article the staff at Yahoo! Beauty decided to make a pledge to go make-up free for a whole week and then write about their experience.


Who are these people? What a bunch of self-obsessed, sad-sacks.


Here's my take on makeup (and I make The Girl recite this every time we go into Sephora to play)


Makeup is like jewelry. Sometimes you need a little. Sometimes you need a lot. Sometimes you don't need it at all. Most importantly you never ever need it to be beautiful.

Cute Costs $10

Last Friday it took for-freaking-ever to decide what we wanted for dinner.



Hubby was a bit under the weather. The Girl had plans. I didn't feel like cooking.



So after an hour of procrastinating and throwing out ideas nobody liked, we settled on burritos. The Boy and I got into the car and drove to our neighborhood taqueria.



So two doors down from the taqueria is this store called Establish. I had seen it before but never really noticed it, if that makes sense. There was a rack outside the store with a lovely little $10 sign hanging next to hanger upon hanger of cute dresses and shirts. I found myself the cutest dress. I took it inside and bought it.



When I walked in I looked around a bit and just as the woman behind the counter (I'm guessing one of the owners) was saying hello and welcome I blurted out "I get burritos next door all the time. How did I never know this store existed? I love everything here!"



They have cute 2nd hand dresses, new clothes, kids' clothes, jewelry, art and greeting cards from local artists, the cutest stuff. If there was ever a local business to support in the Outer Sunset where you can get cute dresses and stuff, it's here.



Take a look at their website and the next time you go to Noriega Street to get a burrito, stop here and look around and buy something.

Half Ass or Balls Out

When I was little and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I would tell them I wanted to be a chef. Then after years of working in a bakery and being a prep-cook I decided that the chef-life wasn't for me. Chef's made me cry too much. I couldn't stand the heat.

I don't cook as much as I used to. I used to cook every night. These days Hubby does most of the cooking. One might even argue that his cooking skills have surpassed mine, and I was pretty darn good at it. Hubby usually cooks during the week and I usually cook on the weekends.

I cook two different ways; Half Ass or Balls Out

This weekend my cooking was Super Freaking Balls Out. Here's what I made.

Saturday
Ahi Tuna Steaks Marinated in Some Stuff
(no real measurements, just use your eyes)
Equal parts of soy sauce, apple cider vinegar (I would have used mirin but I didn't have any) and lemon juice
Mince - a few inches of fresh ginger, a few cloves of garlic, a jalepeno
Salt and Pepper, red pepper flakes

Marinate it all for as long as you can. I did it for about an hour but I could have gone longer if I hadn't looked at the clock and said "Oh crap, it's already 7. I better start cooking."

I made a relish / pesto-ish / topping thing to go on top.
Relish / Pesto-ish / Topping Thing
(no real measurements, just use your eyes)
Mince together - ginger, jalapeno, garlic, lemon peel, parsley, almonds. mix in olive oil and lemon juice, salt and pepper
I suppose you could use a blender but I wanted it chunky. I didn't want a paste.

I served it all with a nice green salad.

Then on Sunday
I had some leftover Relish / Pesto-ish / Topping Thing. I smeared it on some chicken.
I also roasted some peppers, just tossed with olive oil and salt
Hubby bbq'd some other chicken he marinated in herbs and stuff (I don't know what he put in it but it was yummy) plus he grilled some eggplant.
We served it all with a nice salad of arugula, cherry tomatoes and bleu cheese.
 

Guess what I'm having for lunch today.

King Cousins - A Dream

A bunch of Hubby's New York cousin's picked me up and drove me to a dinner theater where we sat at a really crowded table, ate dinner and saw King Crimson play. When the show was over I had to pee really bad. I debated just holding it because I didn't want to miss my ride, but I decided to go to the potty anyways, and to my delight and surprise, all the cousins were waiting in line for the bathroom as well. I wouldn't miss my ride. Yay. Then I was standing outside the car, waiting to get in and Adrian Belew was standing outside. I said "Hi Adrian, good show." He smiled and got in an elevator.

Then I was in a car with Bean, The Boy and one of Hubby's cousin who shares the same name as me. In part of the dream I was driving her to BART so she could go to the Oakland airport. She wouldn't just let me drive her to the airport. She had to take BART. In the other part, we were looking for a new couch with seatbelts to fit into the back seat of the car. We found a pretty cool couch in an abandoned tiny-house, and it had seat belts. Yay us. Then I drove her to BART and took Muni home.

Stealing on Accident - A Dream

I was at some kind of rummage sale. In the back room of the rummage sale, President Obama was filming skits for Saturday Night Live. 

When he was finished he walked around the rummage sale tables. When he got to the table I was standing next to I just happened to be holding a shell lei I was thinking about buying for myself. I guess it was the way I was holding it, because when he got up to me he bent down like I was to put the lei on him. I did. He hugged me. I said "Aloha Kalani." He said "Aloha what?" I said "Kalani" he said "Palami?" No, with a "K."

Then I had to go back to the shell lei vendor and tell her I didn't mean to take the shell lei but the President thought it was a gift for him.

Team Unicorn

So yesterday Hubby and I got into a ridiculous yet very heated discussion involving Unicorns and Narwhals.

As it was 7am when we were having this discussion, I don't remember the finer points, but the gist of it is that I won the argument.

A unicorn would totally kick a narwhal's non-magical ass.

Say Cheese! - A Dream

I as at a store that a friend of mine owns. He decided that he needed to get rid of all of the washed rind cheeses he couldn't identify, plus a few other things.


He gave me tons and tons of cheese. One was a giant wheel of parm with one chunk taken out of it. The rest of it was all mixed up. It was all made into the strangest cheese shapes. There were egg-shaped cheeses, doughnut shaped cheeses, golf ball shaped cheeses. There was one big disc shaped cheese he couldn't figure out. I took the cheese to a local distributor to get it evaluated. They told me it was worth $99,000.00, and I could sell it at $65.99/pound. I thought about giving that particular cheese back to my friend, but then decided to share it with my friends and eat it.

One of the items he gave me wasn't cheese at all. It was a loaf of bread with a bottle of wine baked inside. The crust of the bread was really good but the bread that touched the bottle was gooey and I didn't like it. I didn't drink any of the wine.

Then a bunch of 6 year old girls came in the store and wanted to have a cheese tasting. I was trying to set it up for them but those who worked in the store kept stealing what I had set up for their own tastings. They made the 6 year old girls eat macaroons.

Conversation With Some Guy While Waiting for the Train

This morning when I got to my train stop I checked Nextbus and saw that my train was 6 minutes away. I went to the bakery across the street from the stop to get a $1 coffee. I call it my "it'll hold me until I get to work and can get a decent cuppa joe" coffee. It's pretty bad and pretty weak, but it does what I say it promises; it works until I get a proper cup. (I'll have you know, while at the bakery I was very good and did not give in to the lure of the pork bun.)


After I got my coffee I sat down in my usual spot and waited for the train. A guy walked by me who I'd seen on the train before but never paid attention to.

Him - Why you be drinking that coffee all day?
Me - I'm not drinking this coffee all day. I'm drinking it right now.
Him - You go to work or school?
Me - Work
Him - Where do you work?
Me - Downtown
Him - Where downtown?
Me - Why do you need to know?
Him - Where did you get that coffee?
Me - Over there (pointing to the bakery)

Without saying a word he crossed the street without looking left, right and left again and went into the bakery. The train came. I got on the train and went to work downtown.

What Faction are You In? - Book Review

I just finished the Divergent series by Veronica Roth. OK, scratch that. I mostly finished the Divergent series by Veronica Roth.

I started the books in good faith. I even cut them a little bit of slack. I thought the story, while interesting in concept, took too long to tell and because of that, I made it about 1/3 of the way through the third book before I gave up and looked up the ending on Wikipedia.

So, the book is about a dystopian society where all the people are separated into 5 separate factions based on their talents and convictions. The main character, Tris, decides to leave the faction she was born into and join a more daring one. She meets a boy. They fall in teenage love. The world crumbles around them. They fight back, learn some secrets about the world they live in. They fight people. They foil plans. Some of them fall on their swords for the greater good. Some of them walk into the sunset, ready to fight another day.

I liked that this book had a strong female lead, rather than a wishy-washy one. Tris, the strong female lead, was in a struggle among duty to self, duty to state and duty to love. It was refreshing that the book didn't focus on a totally winey girl who couldn't decide between  a werewolf and a vampire to submit to or a hunter or a baker to conquer.

I don't mind long books. If given a series of books to read, I will read the whole thing as though it's one book. What I don't like is when simple plots take too long to unfold.

I will certainly see the movie when it comes out on streaming netflix.

Run Mac! Run! - A Book Review

What a messed up book. I was entertained by it, but what a messed up book.

So, The Boy brings home books every week from school. All of the books feature some kind of letter sound or letter combination they are learning that week. There's the book with -ing words, there's the book with long O words, there's the book with words that start with Ch. There are more, but you get the picture. Most of the time the stories are silly, but they get the concept across; Bill went up the hill and saw Jill. Jill works at a mill. Bill and Jill will dine with Phil . . . . you get the point.

The book he brought home this week caught me off guard.

So here's the cover of the book. The story is plagiarized for your reading pleasure below.

Tab is a sad cat. Tab has a pal.
His pal is Mac. Mac is a rat.
I got mad at Mac," said Tab. I ate Mac up."
"I did like Mac," said Tab. I am a bad cat."
Tab ran to get the vet.
I can save Mac," said the vet.
The vet made Tab take a nap. The vet made a hole in Tab.
"Mac is safe," said the vet.
"I am fine," said Mac.
"The hole in Tab is fine," said the vet.
I hope Tab can get up," said Mac.
"Wake up Tab," said Mac.
Tab woke up.
"I am fine," said Tab.
Mac gave Tab a hug.
"I like Tab," said Mac.
"I am not mad at him."
Mac and Tab ran home. It is time to take a nap.

What kind of messed up story is that?

Two friends, Tab and Mac. They get into a fight. Tab eats Mac. Tab swallows Mac whole. Later he feels bad about it so he goes to the doctor to have his friend removed from his gut. Mac comes out of Tab totally unharmed and not mad at all. Meanwhile, Mac was alive and well, fully aware of his surroundings; the belly of his best friend and he's not mad when he's extracted. In fact, he's concerned that his friend might not wake up. Tab does wakes up. Mac forgives him and then they go home and snuggle.

I, personally enjoyed the story, because that's the kind of person I am, enjoyable. But I admit the book is kind of off. I look forward to more adventures with Mac and Tab.

Dining with Royalty and Driving with Revelry - A Dream

I was on a plane sitting in first class. I was stoked to be upgraded. I was sitting next to Prince Charles. Prince Harry, The Queen and a corgi were sitting in coach. They were mad at Prince Charles for sitting in first class. Prince Charles was all "What, I'm a friggin' Prince. Why shouldn't I sit in first class?"

The plane was diverted and we had to land in Queens, NY. I was looking for a plane to catch so I could get all the way home and Prince Charles suggested I stay over and have dinner with him that night, but not in a creepy hitting on me way. I told him I had to work tomorrow. He told me that my boss would probably say it's OK because after all, how often does a 65 year old heir to the throne invite you out for dinner. 

We get to the hotel bar. I am tasked with finding a Japanese restaurant. We get to the restaurant and it turns out to be a house where the married couple who owns the house cooks and serves dinner. There are about 10 of us dining; Prince Charles, the president of Rutgers University, my boss from my last position at work, Hubby, Bean and a few other people.

Then I don't know why but I'm in a truck with Alyssa Milano. She is driving me to the airport. The road is really curvy and winds its way through a fancy residential neighborhood. She drives super duper fast and dangerously. I ask her to stop and she doesn't. I yell at her to stop and she does so by driving into a cul de sac, slamming on the brakes and crashing into a fence. I yell at her like I've never yelled at anyone before ever calling her all kinds of names and tell her she's a horrible and thoughtless driver who should never be allowed on the road ever again. I get in the driver's seat and drive back to the hotel because I'm late for having dinner with Prince Charles, which starts at 9:30pm. 

Integrity - a dream

Jim Henson's company created a Muppet modeled after my mom. At first I thought it was a great idea. Who wouldn't want to be immortalized in Muppet form? I was actually quite jealous of her. I would like a Muppet made in my image more than I would like myself in action figure form. But then I got really mad at the Jim Henson company because they didn't make my Muppet-Mom with enough integrity and I thought that was just wrong.

*note - I put a label as "celebrity dream" and not just "dream." Although no celebrity actually appeared in this dream, I think just because the dream references one of celebrity's royalty, I needed to add that particular label.