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.

Late - Not Always a Bad Thing

I ran a little bit late this morning.

My alarm went off at the time I should have woken up, but I pressed snooze twice as many times as I normally plan to. I kept trying to rationalize the consequences of pressing snooze one more time. 

If I press snooze one more time I won't wash my hair in the shower.

If I press snooze one more time I won't shower.

If I press snooze one more time I'll wait to put on make-up until I get to work. (Who am I kidding? I only wear make-up when I have a program running or fancy execs are in town.)

If I press snooze one more time .....

I ended up leaving the house about 45 minutes later than I had planned to the night before, but still 45 minutes earlier than I normally leave the house. (And I did it all without waking up the baby, which is what I normally do when I have to get out of the house quickly.)

I got to work just in time to complete what I needed to complete before the meeting I had to set up for was set up before the meeting started.

Anyhow, back up about 30 minutes.

I was standing in line to catch the company shuttle that picks me up at the Muni station. A woman I didn't know was standing in front of me. A passer-by stopped in her tracks, turned to the woman, smiled and gave her a great big hug; two friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time having a chance meeting on the street. The woman who was walking by said that she was running super late so she couldn't stay and chat but she was very happy to see her. She walked away. The woman standing in front of me was left standing there smiling. I said to her "Totally worth being late today. She got to see a friend and now she'll have a great day because of it." The woman looked at me and smiled, then we had a pleasant conversation about the weather until the shuttle came.

I guess it was nice that I was running a bit behind as well as I got to have a nice pleasant conversation with a stranger.

Dating - A Dream

Johnny Galecki was my boyfriend. Was. We broke up. We still hung out in the same social circles, though. 
Then I started dating my communications teacher from the community college I went to when I was 19. 
Johnny Galecki got all mad that I was dating my old communications teacher and started revenge-dating some yucky girl who made mean tropical drinks. 

Fragments of a few dreams.

I haven't been able to  remember whole dreams lately, but I have had some pretty great dream fragments. I miss having long dreams with some sort of real plot. I wonder how to get them back. I haven't really made any dramatic changes in my nighttime routines that I think would change my dreaming. Maybe I need to work on ways to remember my dreams better. I'll have to research it further.

Bean and I were walking through a parking lot and we came across Arnold Schwarzenegger. Bean waved at California's former governor and said, clear as day, "Happy Birthday."  I was proud of her for enunciating so clearly. I was bummed that it was just her and me. I wanted her dad to hear her say "Happy Birthday." Then when we found hubby, she wouldn't say it.

Then we were walking down a well manicured pathway. I saw a rabbit. It was brown and was over a foot tall when it was sitting on its hind legs. I was holding Bean. I said "Look  Beanie, there's a rabbit." The \rabbit bared its fangs and ran towards me. I had a big fight with the rabbit. Then the rabbit turned into Peter Dinklage except he had blond hair and we fought some more. The fight ended with me standing on the rabbit's neck. Then I found myself back at the Whole Foods I used to work at and I was the team leader for both the bakery and the deli. I didn't want the job. All I wanted was to find a cup of coffee, but I couldn't get one anywhere. 

Fairbrook Street. - A Dream

I wanted to create my own clothing line; specifically men's pants. I called the line of pants "Fairbrook Street."

Having no experience with making pants I called my friend. She once helped me make a pair of shorts out of Cookie Monster fur as a present for Hubby when we were still dating. She had recently moved to Washington DC, but in my dream it took the same time to travel to my home from DC as it does from El Sobrante. d

We found just the right model to wear the pants and hired him. 

One night about 1 am we decided to go to a locally-owned neighborhood Java house near me. When we got there it was closed, but right next door was a Doggie Diner. We went inside and got some coffee.

While we were drinking our coffee we saw the owner of the locally owned Java house making rolls. We saw him take a huge batch of just-risen dough out of the big hobart bowl, put it on the table, then give it a big giant bear hug before he portioned the dough out into just the right size for his rolls.

We finished our coffee then left. I forgot my jacket and my shoes at the Diner and had to go back to get them. 

Then Bean and I were walking through a parking lot. We were on the 2nd level but our car was on the 8th level. I had tons to carry plus I didn't think Bean could walk up all those flights of stairs to get to the 8th level. We couldn't take the elevator because elevators don't work in my dreams. Bean kept running away from me for fun. Just when I grabbed out for her, she slipped through my fingers and turned into a pigeon and flew up into the rafters of the parking lot. We contained her in a cardboard box, then she flew out.

Bigfoot Birthday

We recently celebrated The Boy's birthday. Along with a few cousins and kids of friends, I invited his friends from his class, and they, along with their families came and enjoyed a really fun day at the park. The day was beautiful. Hubby and I got to meet the parents of the kids in The Boy's class. We got to put names to the faces of The Boy's classmates. We were overwhelmed by the generosity of all our guests. Everyone was really nice. I look forward to getting to know them better over the course of The Boy's time at his school.

The Boy chose a Bigfoot theme for his party. It didn't all work out as well as I had thought it would in my head. There were a few hiccups but the kids had a great time.

We made casts of the kids' hands and feet. Not all the kids were into it, but it was fun.

The cake was rockin'. I made a chocolate cake and decorated it with candy rocks, plastic trees and a tiny ceramic monkey I hoped would pass as a bigfoot. It did.
Here's a picture of it.

See that frosting lake? That's just what it is, a frosting lake. The Boy dug a handful of cake out of the center so the lake could go there. It was his birthday cake. I took his lead and filled the hole with frosting. 

As it was a little hot outside, I put a jacket over the cake so the frosting wouldn't melt. So while I was protecting the cake from the heat, it was not protected from the pitter patter stompy stampy of a 6 year old's feet and the cake got trampled on. Luckily the cake was also covered in plastic so although the cake was smashed, it wasn't rendered inedible. The kids ate it all.

At the end of the day my kiddies were worn out. Here they are waiting for Hubby to drive up so we could load the car and head home. Bean fell asleep before we even pulled away from the curb.

Overall it was a good day and I'm happy with the way it turned out. 

‘A‘ohe pau ka ‘ike i ka hālau ho‘okahi.

I read an article written by an Arab woman who doesn't think white women should belly dance. Since I am a white woman who dances hula, I thought it would be an interesting read. I wondered if by me dancing hula evoked the same feelings in Hawaiians.

The author of the article contends that by belly dancing, white women are appropriating the art for themselves and by doing so, causing harm to those who come from Arab cultures. White women belly dancing is akin to donning "Arab Face." That the fulfillment they get from belly dancing is at the expense of the Arab woman; that the Arab woman is somehow degraded because someone non-Arab finds something in the dance that moves them, that they find beautiful.

This article struck a chord with me. I think what the author is getting at is that her culture is being destroyed by people outside of it participating in it. I don't necessarily agree with her.

I've often thought about what people think of me when they see a white girl with no previous connection to Hawaii receiving such fulfillment and happiness from dancing hula.  I've only visited a few of the places we honor with hula. I only know about the people we dance about from what my Kumu has told me or what I've read on my own. I don't worship any of the gods we dance about.  I just know that I have a right to be in my halau because my Kumu says I do.

While I do think there is the threat of a culture to be watered down by outside influences, or for concepts or precepts to be interpreted incorrectly based on one's own culture, or even for cultures to be suppressed by another due to their own religious beliefs, I don't think it is wrong for someone to want to learn about other cultures or to practice art forms outside of one's own ethnic or national tradition.

I think it's important to preserve one's culture. I think it's important to learn about one's culture, one's history. I also think it's important to learn about other cultures, ethnicities and rituals. In doing so, one is able to understand the another's motives, beliefs, practices and religions. One is able to find beauty in ways of doing things different from one's own. One is also able to find similarities and common ground with another. Through this, we may not always agree with each other, but we can at least understand each other better.

I see no contradiction with loving the dance of one culture, the food of another, and the art of yet another even though I know that most of the time dance, food, art and religion are interconnected and it's important to have a grasp of the whole picture.

My husband's ethnicity is different from those of his parents. He was adopted. He is ethnically one thing and culturally another. He identifies with the culture he was brought up in, not the ethnicity he looks like. We both think it is very important to share with our children the customs, rituals and traditions and spiritual practices we grew up with, and the cultures we identify with, because those things make up who we are, what we believe and how we live. We also think it's important to create traditions of our own to pass down. If we were to learn what his ethnic derivation is, I would encourage my children to explore that world as well. And when my children grow up and start families of their own, I would hope they and their spouses would carry on the tradition of sharing their individual histories and culture with their kids.

I guess what I'm getting at is I don't think it's wrong to step out of one's cultural bubble to explore what other cultures have to offer. It's not out of the question to find fulfillment and joy in a practice unlike something one may have experienced in one's own life. One just has to remember that inter-cultural exploration should come from a place of respect and one needs to honor its intentions and respect its traditions.

Dang it. - A Dream

Dang it. Dang it. Dang it.

I hate when I can't remember my dreams. I had a celebrity dream last night that was probably pretty good but all I remember is the following .....

Tony Shalhoub
His broken foot
Linoleum
A black cat.







Man, it was probably a good dream, too.

Bummer.

DJ; Then and Now

Recently Hubby's cousin went on a mission to convert her videos to digital. Lucky me because a few months ago she sent us a DVD of the video she shot at Hubby's and my wedding reception. It was a lot of fun to look at. There was a lot of "Wow she looks so young," and "Oh, I was so skinny there," and "Who is that?"

Fast forward 17 years.

In December I organized my company's holiday party. It was super fun. One of the things I did was hire a DJ. I hired DJ Tom Thump. I have to admit, I picked his name off of yelp solely based on his name; Tom Thump. Of course I read all of his ratings on Yelp. Of course I googled him to find out more about him. Of course I talked to him to see if he would be the right fit. Of course I looked online for some samples of his stuff. (I found this by the way. I listen to it when I am working on expenses or when I'm knee-deep in excel files).

So it's a week or so after the holiday party. I'm sitting on my couch watching the wedding DVD that Hubby's cousin had just sent me and I stopped in my tracks. This is what I saw.
Tom Thump was the DJ at my wedding reception.

How strange is that?




Anyway, my wedding reception was 17 years ago and I don't remember every detail about Mr. Thump's performance, but at my company's holiday party, he totally rocked it. You should hire him for your next event where you need a DJ.

The Kaona of Rain

It rained last night. 

I can't verify it, but in my head it's only rained twice on hula night. The first time it rained, Kumu gathered everyone and spoke about how we had turned the ritual of hula into a routine. That we had become lazy and needed to remember why we dance. We needed to remember to be present, both physically and mentally or spiritually. That class stayed with me. I think about it frequently.

Like I said, it was raining that night. The rain was washing away the malaise our class was experiencing as a whole, giving us a new chance to reconnect with hula, and each other in class; a clean puka to dance in.

That was the last time it rained on hula night, until last night.

It poured on the way to hula. I knew it meant something. Just like last time, it was a sign, an `ōuli if you will. Something was being washed away, making room for something new.

We're getting ready for a Ho'ike Nui 'Elua. 

Four years ago at this time we were preparing for Ho'ike Nui `Ekahi. It was an amazing experience to dance with so many of my hula brothers and sisters. But most of the time I was really disappointed in myself. I was in the back rows for most of the pieces we danced. I knew it was because I wasn't giving my hula dancing the respect it deserved. I wasn't practicing enough. I was getting by. I was disappointed not with the spot that Kumu had given me, but rather because I knew I wasn't doing my best. I knew I could do better but I wasn't doing it.

Last night's rain reminded me to dance harder, practice more. Last night's rain reminded me that I feel great when I dance well. I feel great when I practice. Dancing doesn't come naturally to me. I know that I struggle with learning a dance. I know I'm stronger at memorizing chants and pules than I am at picking up a new dance. But when I do get it, when I do nail that particular move, my dancing changes. I'm happier. I'm more confident. I don't throw anyone off.

It took the rain to remind me that I can do this. I just have to do it.

Please and Thank You - Conversation I had with a Cashier

Today is payday.

On payday I usually treat myself with lunch, a bought lunch, not leftovers. Don't get me wrong. My leftovers are usually pretty yummy. Hubby is a good cook and I've been known to produce a pretty good meal or two. Anyhow, today I got myself a sandwich and a bottle of Ito En green tea.





The following is a conversation I had with the 20 year old kid with really bad, not quite grown in facial hair.

Him - Hello
Me - Hi
Him - Do you need a bag? (then he looked away)
Me - Yeah, thanks.
Him - A bag?
Me - yes
Him - (in a tone similar to the one I use on my kids when I want them to use good manners) Yes Please?

He rang my stuff up. I handed him my card.

Him - Do you need a receipt?
Me - No
Him - No Thank you (again with the "you need to use good manners" tone)

I smiled/smirked and rolled my eyes.

I left the store. I went back to my office, found a sunny spot in the bar and ate my sandwich.

Whale 'n Chz - Conversation with my 5 year old.

The scene - 
I had just gotten home from work. I was sitting on the couch. The Boy was snuggled into the crook of my arm. He was happy I was home, but equally content to be mesmerized by the Wild Kratt's show.

The Conversation
Me - How was your day?
The Boy - Good
Me - What did you do today?
The Boy - (can't talk. TV)
Me - Why does your breath smell like mac 'n chz?
The Boy (clearly not paying attention to me) - It's a Sperm Whale
Me - You ate a sperm whale?
The Boy - No
Me - Then why does your breath smell like mac 'n chz?

We have a lot of conversations like that.

Yes, I Cheat

"Hey Andrea, do you want some snowman poop?"

That's what one of my coworkers asked me this morning. I gave him a funny look. He smiled and told me what it was.

You take some oreos and separate the cookie from the creme filling. You mix the cream filling with cream cheese and grind the cookies into a powder. Then you combine all of that, make little balls and then dip in white chocolate.

I told my coworker it sounded like a stoner-snack. He said it could be, but it's his wife's specialty and she made enough for 50 people so he brought them to work.

I ate 3.

I feel sick now.

Pua Bean Has a Job

My little Pua Bean is on the career path. I don't know exactly what it is, but she knows because she's always practicing, always               .

Her first job was pretty entry level. She would take items out of open bags out of the back of her stroller. Clearing out laundry baskets was her favorite part of her job. Coming in a close second is taking every single wipe out its container then finding just the right one to go rub the windowsill. 

Then she got promoted when she learned how to open the kitchen cabinets. Her new job was to clear out all the pots and pans whenever she noticed the doors were shut and the pots and pans were inside.

Building onto her responsibilities at her job she moved to purses. It was her job to make sure all pens had their caps removed and all credit cards, business cards and paper money were strewn across the floor (I think she got a bonus for every time a credit card was found in another room or under the couch.)

To hone her craft she started moonlighting and attending training seminars where she would investigate the strollers and purses of people at the playground.

During all her training she mastered another skill, zippers! Thus adding of skill to her resume. Much to her happiness and career aspirations she's discovered that backpacks are no longer off her list of items she can empty out and ruin.

Her goals for the next 6 months are simple, and if she works hard I think she can achieve them. She plans to work on opening drawers. Her method of screaming while tugging on the handles is producing a little bit of success but she still needs to work on her technique. After that she will work on opening the refrigerator to extract her favorite snack, cheese. 

She's hoping to make management by her 2nd birthday.

'Nilla Wafers and Chex Mix High

We went shopping at Grocery Outlet over the weekend. I'd never been to a a Grocery Outlet before.

There were a lot off-brands but the store wasn't filled with unmarked dented cans with no labels, like I imagined. Prices were pretty good. Quality was pretty good, mostly. Selection was pretty good, mostly.

Selection was great for those who eat a conventional diet. Selection was not the best for those of us who enjoy a more Paleo / Primal way of eating.

We were able to load up on the staples we needed like milk, cheese, bananas, apples, but it was definitely not a one-stop shop. It was however cheap enough and convenient enough to go make it a regular stop in filling our fridge.

When we were at the check-out line I heard on the overhead something about check stand 3 (the one where we were) had won some prize of the day. We won? Yay! What did we win?

A moment later someone came over and handed us a bag filled with all kinds of treats and goodies that we no longer eat; Graham Cracker Sandwiches, Nilla Wafers, Chex Mix, Red Vines. When Hubby and I saw the 'nilla wafers we instantly thought the same thing; POT OF COFFEE AND BOX OF 'NILLA WAFERS.

The next morning we totally cheated and had said 'nilla wafers and pot of coffee. What I noticed, however, is that I could only eat a big handful of the cookies. A year ago I would have hidden in the closet with the box and eaten it all. It was just too sweet for me this time around.

Yay evolution of taste buds and learning new eating habits.

Then for lunch I opened the bag of chex mix and found that I only wanted to eat my favorite bits from the bag, that the whole bag did nothing for me anymore. Happy and sad at the same time.

Overall I'm happy I don't want the foods I used to eat on a regular basis, and used to make meals out of. Overall I'm happy that I've taught my kids that vegetables aren't gross and I don't have to disguise them to get them to eat them. I'm happy that they crave food that's good for them. Don't get me wrong. They were just as stoked to pounce on the Graham Cracker sandwiches, 'nilla wafers and chex mix, but they don't miss it when it's not around, and that's progress.

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.