To Catch a Cat Cold - A Dream

My cat, Pauly sleeps with me most nights. Usually he gets himself comfy in a spot somewhere around my knees. When it gets really cold out, he sleeps on my head. Last night when I woke up to pee, I found him curled up right by my head..

This morning I  heard my cat sneeze about 5 times in a row. I think he may have sneezed on me last night.

I was in some kind of vacation house with a group of people. I recognized them in my dream but I can't remember who they are now. I was sitting at the kitchen table. I had just started a load of laundry in my pull-out sofa, because I guess in my dream life, Ikea sofa beds can be hooked up to a plumb line. There were a bunch of kids playing outside. A baby about 6 months old crawled up to me. She was dressed like Minnie Mouse. She sat on my lap and watched the kids play through the window. After a few moments she turned her head towards me and sneezed directly in my face. 

Les Claypool and the Flying V and the Quest for Soup: A Dream

When I was about 18 I had this friend. His wife won a Flying V guitar on some radio contest. She was so excited to win it. I saw it. It was pretty. This was almost 30 years ago. I wonder what she did with it. I guess I'll never know.
















The Boyfriend and I plus a handful of our friends were at some kind of house together. Les Claypool was performing somewhere nearby. He happened by us and asked us if he could crash with us. Of course we said yes. Not wanting him to feel awkward and wanting to give him a sense of normalcy, we largely ignored him and let him do his thing. Mostly what he did was amble and putter about carrying a Flying V, just like Randy Rhodes' guitar and talk about how he wanted to eat soup, really good soup.

He mea maʻa mau ia i ke Caprica - A Dream for you and I

Lords of Kobol, I woke up to fantastic dream this morning.

There are nights when I don't want to go to hula. Y'know, you get home from work after a long day, you're tired. You don't want to get back into the car and drive across town. My oldest daughter, who is also my hula sister didn't want to go either. She, like me, had worked a full day on her feet and could have been easily convinced not to go. We make the right decision, we e ʻeu ka lemu (got off our booties) and holoholo-ed to hula. 
I've never regretted going to hula on a night when I didn't want to go. I am always happy I went. Last night was no exception. It was a good class. After class we got home, I put the little ones in their beds, got comfy in my bed and watched a few episodes of Battlestar Galactica on Hulu. I'm in the middle of Season 3 right now. It seems my evening served as really excellent dream fodder.

I was at a restaurant having lunch with Chief Tyrol and Cally. 
(I was probably on Earth, but who knows, I could have easily been on Caprica. I don't think I was on the Cloud 9 ship, unless I was in the employee cafeteria on Cloud 9 because it wasn't fancy. It was mostly shaped like Barney's on Solano.  Yeah, it totally wasn't the Cloud 9 cafeteria because why would I save all my cubits to pay for transport from Faru Sadin to Cloud 9 only to have to eat the space equivalent of Sysco chicken nuggets? The restaurant was definitely on Earth or Caprica.)
We were seated along the wall at a 4 top but all the 4 tops along that wall were really close together. Chief, Cally and I had just ordered and I look up and see one of my kid's friend's dads walk in. I get up to say hello to him. He doesn't see me. He turns away and grabs a 'ukulele from the top of the bookshelf, sits down and starts playing Henehene Kou 'Aka. I say to myself "hey, I know that song." I get up, stand in the middle of the room and join the dance right at the "for you and I" go right into the kāholo and start the second verse, get on that street car and make my way to Waikīkī, Kapahulu, and Kaka'ako (moo).

Just Around the Corner with Captain Awesome

I don't know San Jose very well. I've been to the Winchester Mystery House. I've been to a Shark's game. I've been to Patty's Bar, the oldest bar in SJ. I can get to my boyfriend's house from my house, but I still have to use google maps to figure out how to get home and I'm certain I take a different way to the freeway every single time. I know very little about the secrets San Jose holds, but last weekend I went for a walk, and let me tell you, I still know very little about San Jose, but I got to go on a very nice walk.

Captain Awesome (my BF) and I took the family dog Gus out for a walk. Just 3 short blocks and up around the corner from where we started, lots of goats nibbled on our fingers. They have the tiniest teeth.

We saw cows. They were a lot bigger than they seem in the picture.

And we got to enjoy a beautiful moment as the sun was setting.

Gus got to stretch his legs, pee on things and  sniff goats. I got to enjoy spending time in the evening sun with my man.

My 'Okina Outshines My 'Ōniu, You Crazy Diamond

I played the flute a bit in band in grade school and junior high (a few of my tens of readers may remember by lovely rendition of Journey's Who's Crying Now? on my flute accompanied by one of my classmates who was really amazing on the piano at the school talent show). I picked the flute up again in my early 20's but never really stuck with it (the other few of my tens of readers might remember my rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star at the Chameleon Club before the band Ida came on).

When I started Hula I picked up the 'ukulele a bit. Although I enjoyed playing, I wasn't very good but I noticed the more I played, the more I concentrated on learning how to play the songs we were learning hulas to, the stronger my dance was. I learned early on that as much as I truly love hula dancing, I am much stronger with learning chants and learning the language than I am with dancing. My 'okina outshines my 'ōniu, for sure. I always remember the hula better when I have the mele (song) memorized. My dancing is more passionate, more controlled and more me when I am pa'a (confident in, firm, stuck) with the mele.

I am not a musician but music has always been important to me. It's relaxed me. It's energized me. It's pulled me out of a bad mood. Music for me helps bring things into focus. Music keeps my mind active and helps me organize my thoughts. Music helps me process information and calm my mind. I express myself better when music is involved. I'm in a better mood when music is involved. I get more things done when there is music playing.

Set something to music and I will memorize it. Set something to music and I will understand it. Set something to music and I will remember it (I remember both my mom and my 5th grade teacher yelling at me when I was a kid. "You can remember any song on the radio but you can't memorize Luther's Small Catechism? What's the matter with you?" (BTW, she and my 5th grade teacher hated my reply of "Well maybe they should set it to music." I never understood why; setting it to music seemed totally logical to me; it's how most of us memorized the Preamble, isn't it?.)) Set something to music and I will find meaning in it.

I surround myself with people who also use music to express themselves or to soothe themselves or to define themselves; people who not only value listening to but also creating their own rhythms in life; people who mark milestones in their lives with what music was playing at the time or what show they were either watching or playing.

I don't know how to succinctly tie up this blog post so in lieu of being able to write a cohesive closing thought, here is my favorite flutist playing my favorite flute piece.

Is it October Already?

One of my pet peeves is when people shorten words for no good reason.
I hate the word "natch" in place of naturally, meaning for sure, yes.
I hate the word "convo" in place of conversation.
I hate the word "sando" in place of sandwich.
My little one watches a Barbie show on Netflix where they say "amaze" in this high pitched sing-song voice when what they really mean to say is that something is amazing or super. I hate that.
It used to drive me nuts when my ex-SIL called the refrigerator "The Refrige" or diapers "dipes." Drove me insane.
The ultimate one I hate is San Fran (but oddly enough Frisco is OK in the right circumstances).

Add a new word to the list; mammo.

I had my annual mammogram yesterday. I make sure to get them as often as Kaiser will give them to me. You can read about past mammograms here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Who has two thumbs and just had a mammogram?

Three nurses and two people in the waiting room said it. "Are you here for your mammo?" "Is this where I check in for my mammo?" "It's mammo time."

Sitting in that waiting room yesterday was like listening to someone eat a bowl of cereal in my ear.
Still, I was in and out of there in about 20 minutes. I'm talking parking, getting my mammogram, and going to SugarBowl right after; 20 minutes.

Stupid words aside, I missed last October's mammogram because I didn't have any health insurance. I have it now. Yay. I felt a little off getting my mammogram in the month of my half birthday rather than the month of my full birthday, but I didn't want to wait any longer

It is important to get your mammogram as often as you can get them. Listening to stupid word play in the waiting room is a small price to pay for not having cancer. Get your boobs checked.

47 - A True Yet Pointless Story w/ a Little TMI

When I was a kid, getting tickets to a musical or play was a pretty popular present in my house. We would get two tickets and we would get to choose who went with us to the show. One year I got tickets to go see Cats. I took my dad. We were sitting outside the theater waiting until it was time to go in. My dad stood up and looked around. I asked him what he was doing. He told me he was looking for someone he knew. I asked him if he was expecting to see anyone he knew and he said, humbly and matter-of-fact-ly, "no, but I know a lot of people."
One year my sister got tickets to see Evita staring Patty LuPone. Another sister got tickets to Sunset Blvd. One year all of us got tickets to the ballet Don Quixote. I think I was about 10. I remember being really excited to watch a ballet, but falling asleep quickly once the show started.
The VERY BEST show I went to was Peter Pan staring Sandy Duncan at The Pantages.  Oh my gosh you guys. Peter Pan flew right above me. right. above. me. So cool.
That show I took one of my sisters. She drove a light blue Camaro. On our way home she got off the freeway early because she wanted to drive by The Pike. She got lost and super turned around. I had to pee really really badly. When she finally righted herself and figured out her way home, she told me that the longer I held my pee, the longer peeing time I would have. Then she told me some tall tale about her friend Gretchen who once held her pee from Big Bear to Long Beach and peed for two whole minutes.  As soon as I got home, I ran to the bathroom and peed, and counted. I made it to 27.
So, tonight I went out. I considered peeing before I left my house, but stupidly decided against it. When I got to my destination I had to pee like a racehorse tinkle quite urgently. I went into the bathroom and ....... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ...... I got up to 47.

Dude, really? An Open Letter to Ike's Sandwiches

Dear Ike's

Really? $11 for this?


Today I got my first paycheck from my new job. I am very pleased about this and decided that although I always bring my own lunch to work, today I was going to celebrate and buy my lunch.

I was excited to see Ike's across the street from my office in Emeryville. I'd never eaten at an Ike's before. I was excited to give it a try. Today I tried Ike's for the first time. Unfortunately, today I probably tried Ike's for the last time.

Whenever I go to a sandwich place I've never been to before I order a salami sandwich; a simple one with salami, lettuce, tomato, mustard, mayonnaise and pepperoncini on sliced sourdough bread. It's an easy sandwich that's hard to fuck up.

Guess what Ike's, you fucked it up.

Take a look at the picture. This is supposed to be a Salami sandwich? It's not. It's a mustard and lettuce sandwich with salami as a condiment.

I know my salami sandwiches. I am a casual expert when it comes to salami sandwiches. I have eaten more salami sandwiches than any other sandwich I've ever eaten combined, and that includes all the PB&J I had as a kid. One could argue I am an armchair connoisseur of salami sandwiches, or really, any sandwich using the salumi family of meats.

First, let's talk about the bread. I ordered my sandwich on sliced sourdough. You made my sandwich on a sourdough roll. I don't like rolls for sandwiches because the top of the roll always cuts up the roof of my mouth. I don't like that feeling. If you don't have sliced sourdough on your menu, your cashier should have alerted me to that fact when I asked for it. She did not.

Second, the lettuce. Shredded lettuce is gross on sandwiches. I know, this is a personal preference. Not a deal-breaker if the rest of the sandwich is delicious, but not my favorite thing.

Third, kind of goes back to the shredded lettuce. Too much mustard serves as a swimming pool for the shredded lettuce. One should not be able to pour lettuce out of a sandwich.

Fourth, I should have read the menu better. I did not know your sandwiches come hot unless otherwise asked. I have a problem with hot lettuce and hot mustard and mayo. I know there are some freakshows out there who think that hot condiments (we're talking temperature, not spice) are appetizing. I am not one of them. The smell of hot mayo makes me want to hurl. Hot mayo smells like Nair.

Fifth, and the most important of the factors of why your sandwich was so disappointing, why don't you put salami on your salami sandwiches? A wafer-thin layer of salami spread across a piece of bread does not a salami sandwich make. For a sandwich this size, and for $11 I should have gotten salami piled at least 1/2 inch high. Even if the rest of the sandwich is sub-par, it can be saved by the quality and amount of meat it has. Your lack of meat did not provide that lifeboat it needed to save the integrity of my sandwich.

All that being said, I was hungry. I ate the sandwich. Also, I didn't want to waste food. I paid 11 freaking dollars for it. It was so super far from the best sandwich I've ever had, but at best it was "pretty OK." I won't eat at Ike's again, unless someone else is paying and they go get it and bring it to me.

Thank you,
Andrea

P.S. I am not a crackpot.

Lemuring Around - a dream

I don't believe dreams are prophetic. I don't think one receives knowledge in a dream that isn't already swimming around in one's brain. I do believe, however, that dreams can help to sort out one's thoughts, bring to light one's anxieties, fantasies, and fears. Of course one's dreams can also be just weird random occurrences of strange stuff and don't serve any purpose other than to entertain us, but that's not the kind of dream I had last night.

Last night I had a dream that I can't get out of my head. On the surface it's kinda funny, but the more I think about it, the more I can't shake it.

I was walking through my living room and there was a dead lemur on the floor. I kept trying to get around it but its tail kept getting in my way. I was finally able to kick it aside, only to find there was another lemur on my back that wouldn't go away. I saw my ex-husband and asked him to remove the lemur. Instead of pulling it off my back, he just tickled it and repositioned it. I tried to remove the lemur but couldn't. The lemur, with its cat-like jaws (yes, I know a lemur's jaws aren't cat-like, but this was a dream, remember?) grabbed onto my hand and wouldn't let go. I yelled "Ow, fucker" and punched it in the face. 

I woke up swinging. I actually woke from sleep swinging.

It goes without saying, there are a few obstacles in my life that just won't find their way to completion or success no matter how hard I try to make them happen; my divorce being final, a full-time permanent job with benefits, finding a safe and happy place to live for my kids and me.

Luckily the drive to keep swinging endures.