march madness - oh how I love thee

I don't know why I have been writing so damn much lately. I think I might have to take a break after today, but I can't contain myself for the moment, it's all just too good. Last night womens basketball March Madness games. There were two of them, four teams competing to get into the sweet 16.

We caught the last half of the Cal - George Washington game. It looked like Cal had it in the bag. Struggling, not playing their best, but they were consistently ahead. Then, about 10sec left they dribbled the ball down their side of the court, 5sec left and a Cal player called time out. In a very questionable call the ref blew the whistle signaling traveling. What?! The crowd, including the opponents couldn't believe it. Traveling, about 5 sec left and the ball goes to GW. The girl takes it down the court, 3 sec left, pass here, pass there, 1 sec left she takes a shot... ball drops in at the buzzer. I don't know why they called the time out. Im not sure why they just didn't hold on and dribble. It doesn't matter, it was done, the game was over. It really was crazy. They replayed the shot and the ball definitely dropped. They didn't replay the traveling call though, and honestly it was just so questionable. The crowd didn't know what to do, it was such a shocker. I would have been devastated had I been a true blue Cal fan, but as an admirer of all things sports related I couldn't help but just say wow! Now that's a game. GW will probably be killed in the next round, but they didn't give up, they fought to the end, and that is what it's all about.

At 7:30 sharp the real show began. Stanford playing some orange team named UTEP (University of Texas El Paso). Playing a little rocky at first Stanford finally got pumped up and put on a show. Solid as ever there were little mistakes and few fouls. As the game kept on my mouth dropped more and more, until I couldn't even clap. I just stood in amazement as Candace Wiggin's scores 44 points in a 88-54 win.

This girl has heart, talent, drive, and leadership. She has an awareness of the court and also of the fans surrounding her. The harder she played the harder her teammates played. Her game was truly incredible and so inspiring. Walking back to the car I wondered, (speaking about Wiggins) 'What does one do after a game like that? After a performance like that? What can you do'?

As a fan it just makes me want to scream and run and jump and smile. I can't help but appreciate her performance and the simple fact that this is sports in it's truest form. This is competition. This is what it's all about. Right now I hope the team doesn't let up and continues to back their key player. She deserves it.

extra reading - click.

Mitch - you rock

I would like to give a big ol shout out to my buddy Mitch. Without him I would not have gotten up at 3am on Easter morning to freeze my ass off riding up the top of Mt. Tam on his sexy black motorcycle. Us and about 100 others took over the freeway, and the mountain for that matter. Watching the sunrise over the city with a bunch of leather wearing strangers was one of the coolest things I have done in a very long time. Easter is the only day the park opens the mt. road before sunrise, and I wonder about that. I think a lot of people up there that morning were just so appreciative of the day, of the crisp fresh morning air, of the friends they were there with.

I grew up Lutheran, and went to church every single Sunday. Well the Sunday's I didn't have soccer or snowboarding or whathave you. Every single Easter morning for as long as I can remember we went to Sunrise Service. We woke up around 4am, looked all over the house for our baskets (opening up the chocolate right away), then headed to church. The whole congregation would crowd around this fire pit, sing a few songs, wait for the bit of sunrise, then head inside. The service was done by 7:30 and we would head to the fellowship hall to serve brunch all morning long. Every year, the same white paper placemats, plastic eggs, and jelly beans on the tables.

I didn't see any church around here that does that same thing. 11am is about the norm. Which is understandable. Who in their right mind stands around in the dark and cold unless they have to? For me the motorcylce ride was like that Sunrise service. Both representing a sense of community and a feeling of freedom and renewel. I am so verging on extremely cheesy im quite embarrassed and I'm going to go now. Bye.

-cyclin pics-

flat iron steak and some Jesus

Thank God the sun is finally here. If I had to sit in my house hiding from the rain and cold for another 3 months I would have officially gone insane, or just eaten one too many chocolate chip cookies. Neither of which would have been too good. The sun makes people do crazy things. Like drink lagers at 10am and do shots with their shirts off. This past weekend it seemed like practically the entire damn city flocked to the park. Either in result of the sun, or the exuberant amount of drag queens. Probably both.

I couldn't stay at the park long. In all honesty I was happy to leave. I love the park, but not being able to move isn't too much fun, and the loud shitty music didn't help either. I recently started a second job. Why you ask? Doesn't matter. Sunday evening I had to run food. It was only my second day running food (excusing myself of all responsibility for my mistakes, yes). It was busy, but not anything extreme. I got ahead of myself. I took on too many things at once (as I often do). I got confused.

My first mess up was at the bar. It was reletively empty, but there were two people at the end. A women, and a man who was talking to our manager. I thought he was just visiting, not eating. Yeah, my mistake. I delivered a flat iron steak to this women, where she replied, "Oh Thank You" and began eating. Two minutes later I realize the steak was meant for the man, and the Pork Cutlet on the counter was meant for the women. Now, at this point you might be saying, "Yo, enough with the minute by minute renactment about the oh so exciting life of food running!" Well, stick with me here-

The reason we say the order as we set it down is because for one, it then voids us of responsibility from giving them the wrong order. Somewhat. And two, it's just a nice thing to do. About an hour later table number 15 ordered ravioli, among a million other things. Accidently I gave her rigatoni (that was meant for table 17) not the ravioli. Yes, yes, my mistake. But again, I told them the plate. The words, Rigatoni came flowing out of my mouth into her ears. She again, accepted the plate and started eating. Now, my whole thing is, why didn't either of these two people say anything? Why when they saw it was wrong say, "Hey, this isn't what I ordered?"

I'm sorry but when I order something I expect to get what I order. And if it's not I probably would have said something (my gosh I sound like a spoiled ass). These people didn't though, and I totally don't get it. Were they just really nice? They didn't want to be rude? What I put before them looked better than what they had actually ordered? I have no idea! I obviously felt bad I handed them the wrong thing. I had one thing to do, and I couldn't even do it right!

One thing I forgot to mention is that they were both women. Does that matter?

I don't know, I just thought this was intresting. Not as intresting as the man I saw on Sunday dressed up as Jesus. And by dressed up I mean a cloth wrapped around his goodies and thorns on his head. I dunno...

sort of a personal letter

I am 24. Our editor is turning 30 next week. My boss is something like 38. My mom is 50. Time flies damn fast. For how much time I find myself not really doing anything but sitting and being bored, there is so much more time where my mind is running crazy. Keeping track of taxes, job stuff, exercising, college loans, medical insurance payments, keeping up with new friends, keep up with old friends, keeping up with family, making it to work functions, making it to social functions, feeding the creative soul, then on top of all this- making sure I am keeping track of all these things! And on top of this, I am single. No relationship, no children, no pets even. I am completely 100% on my own. Right now I (and perhaps these things called fate and karma) am the soul decider of my life decisions. I am writing my own future. I am choosing where and how I spend these years of my life. I am 24, and already I feel too old. Already I feel like I should have done more with my life. Already I feel like I need to know exactly what I want out of life.

Out of all the duties listed above how many of them are only for me? Are only things I selfishly do for me? Not many. They are things that help me survive. Things that help me stay afloat. With my lips barely above water sucking all the air in I can. Things that help me keep up with the rest of 20 something America.

When the time comes to have kids, to start a family. My children, their childhood memories, the memories they will tell their own children, the memories they will share with their college roommates are really a reflection of not them, but of me. The are a reflection of how I chose to spend my 30's-40's. A reflection of how I chose to raise them. When, where and how.

All of the decisions I am making now effect how I will raise my children later. I have been thinking a lot about this lately. Reflecting on how my parents raised me. How my childhood was, and wondering what I want for my children. Through all the duties we have in this life. All the things we must do to survive and live comfortably, for all the things we consistently do for other people so WE can have our few moments of true happiness and freedom, I feel that raising children is the one thing WE, YOU, ME have complete (well almost) control over. It is the one thing we have from the beginning, and continue through the end.

The thought that I have complete control over how my children grow up is a hard thing to grasp. Do I settle down in a safe suburban community, letting my kids ride bikes up and down the tree lined block, scrapping their knees as they write chalk on the concrete? Do I take them all over the world, from country to country, growing up among the large space of Australia and the crowded streets of China? Do we sail the ocean, as I attempt to teach them long division on a 30foot monohull? I have no f-ing idea. All I can say is that I couldn't have had a better childhood, and I only hope I can give my kids the same.

Watch the following trailer. This guy chose his children's fate, and perhaps his grandchildren's as well. I find it an inspiring story.

Saturday Night

It's amazing how much straight girls love the queer scene. Taking shots from their crotches, hand cupping the breasts, screaming for more! It's also amazing how easy it is to find an excuse to go out and spend ridiculous amounts of money on the celebration of anything. Said celebration: my friend's moving away party, combined with my friend's birthday party, combined with my friend's trip to Ireland party.

Starting at 5, with it still light outside, a bunch of women and handful of men crammed into the posh overly priced venue known as Asia SF. The yummy and surprising food almost made up for the watered down drinks. Almost.

The real money went into the fabulous show that was before us. Those women danced like nobody's business, and had the body's to do so. Seriously, damn!

Admittedly biased, I must say, our server was the best one out there. If and only if it was for the song she sang. It was "The Pussy Cat Song" by Connie Vannet. This isn't the entire song, but check it out .

humor is good

worth noting

It's worth noting because it was possibly the most painful thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. Let me repeat, the most painful thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.

It was a Friday. I had taken the morning to work from home and was going to use some of this non-office time to pretty myself up. After hours at an overcrowded coffee shop attempting to be creative I headed to some sort of women beautifying place of business.

Ring of door chime. Peek head in.
"You guys do waxing?"
"Yes, room 2" (in a little old Asian lady accent)

Walk in room. Its a small room. Wax is bubbling.
"Take clothes off." (in a little old Asian lady accent)

She leaves, I take my pants off. She comes back in.
"Take all off" (in a little old Asian lady accent)

She stays, I take my underwear off. I lie down.
"Whoah" (in a little old Asian lady accent)
Sorry lady, I know it has gotten out of control but geez no need to laugh.

She pats me down with baby powder. She takes the popsicle stick out of the wax. I start to freak out.

"Ah Ah, calm down, breath" (under my breath)
The sticky green stuff is warm.
Rrriiipppppp!

"FUCK! Jesus Mother Fucking, Fuck agghhh!"
Again and again and again she wipes the cloth down and tears away. It sends pain over my entire body, and isn't getting any easier.

"He He He" I hear on the other side of the thin wall.
"They are laughing at you." (in a little old Asian lady accent)
She's mocking me.

I throw my hand down over my crotch.
"Ok, hold on a second. Ah."
"No pain no gain" she says (in a little old Asian lady accent), and tears the cloth again. It feels like shes taking my skin with her.

"FUCK!" "Ok, enough, enough." I cant handle it. It's not worth it. "Stop!"
"You don't want to be lopsided." (in a little old Asian lady accent) She rips again.

More laughing behind the curtain.

"Ok, ok, I'm done."
"Fine." (in a little old Asian lady accent)

I have broken bones. I have slammed fingers in doors. And now, I can confidently say I have paid $12 to experience the worst pain of my entire life. I'm not sure how some people do this on a consistent basis. They are fucking crazy.