640X480 - 5 from tarzanchild on Vimeo.
640x480
There is this wonderful crazy awesome person in my life who never fails to keep me on my toes. A few weeks ago when walking past an Apple store we decided to take a peak in. 10 minutes later I walked out with a new ipod nano. Sweet ass gold yellow with a video camera. holla!
So, Im posing a new challenge to myself.
1 video a day.
:45 each.
That's it.
They will be titled 640x480 - after the dimensions of the video it outputs. The first one will be up by tonight.
woohoo!
So, Im posing a new challenge to myself.
1 video a day.
:45 each.
That's it.
They will be titled 640x480 - after the dimensions of the video it outputs. The first one will be up by tonight.
woohoo!
mid december
Wow. How time flies. Its almost mid December 2009. In the past year I :
- got laid off
- was confused about what to do next
- was upset about what to do next
- did nothing for a month, because I could
- helped an ex re-paint her entire house in 3 days
- moved to the the suburban eastbay to live with my mom
- went to seattle - twice
- went to Spain
- went to France
- went to Germany
- found out I have recessive gums in my genes - awesome
- got a yellow card in my indoor soccer game - awesome
- worked at a bar and grill
- got a number from a 55 year old with a new porsche at the bar and grill - sleazy
- scrubbed the toilet at the bar and grill
- became depressed at the bar and grill
- moved back to the city, in my old place, with almost no money
- went to all those places back there with almost no money
- still have almost no money
- camped - a lot
- lost some weight - lost some muscle
- saw sunrises
- saw sunsets
- worked at two different start-ups for no money
- learned what and what not to do
- got a pedicure for the first time in a long time
- drank champagne at 3am
- drank mulled wine
- ate more things vegan and vegetarian than I have in the past 24 years
- became bitter
- became driven
- became an older me
- lost my blackberry
- lost my cheap $12 phone
- picked up my $12 phone from BART after some very nice stranger turned it in
- lost my charger
- lost my black beanie
- bought a sick jacket - it's about time
- made colorful things
- was a dinosaur
- was a friend
- found a new job - get to edit all day long - woohoo
- found waiting is ok
- learned many lessons
- made streak paella
- made my first ever homemade chili
- searched for a lost dog - he was found
- bought breakfast for a stranger
- grilled at sunset overlooking the ocean
- ate dinner on the roof
- bought a t-shirt off the street
- figured out more things about technology
- read a lot of blogs and books and magazines
- sold some furniture
- made some movies
- took some pictures
- built 2 websites from scratch
- danced
- did yoga - ?
- rocked and rolled
- got laid off
- was confused about what to do next
- was upset about what to do next
- did nothing for a month, because I could
- helped an ex re-paint her entire house in 3 days
- moved to the the suburban eastbay to live with my mom
- went to seattle - twice
- went to Spain
- went to France
- went to Germany
- found out I have recessive gums in my genes - awesome
- got a yellow card in my indoor soccer game - awesome
- worked at a bar and grill
- got a number from a 55 year old with a new porsche at the bar and grill - sleazy
- scrubbed the toilet at the bar and grill
- became depressed at the bar and grill
- moved back to the city, in my old place, with almost no money
- went to all those places back there with almost no money
- still have almost no money
- camped - a lot
- lost some weight - lost some muscle
- saw sunrises
- saw sunsets
- worked at two different start-ups for no money
- learned what and what not to do
- got a pedicure for the first time in a long time
- drank champagne at 3am
- drank mulled wine
- ate more things vegan and vegetarian than I have in the past 24 years
- became bitter
- became driven
- became an older me
- lost my blackberry
- lost my cheap $12 phone
- picked up my $12 phone from BART after some very nice stranger turned it in
- lost my charger
- lost my black beanie
- bought a sick jacket - it's about time
- made colorful things
- was a dinosaur
- was a friend
- found a new job - get to edit all day long - woohoo
- found waiting is ok
- learned many lessons
- made streak paella
- made my first ever homemade chili
- searched for a lost dog - he was found
- bought breakfast for a stranger
- grilled at sunset overlooking the ocean
- ate dinner on the roof
- bought a t-shirt off the street
- figured out more things about technology
- read a lot of blogs and books and magazines
- sold some furniture
- made some movies
- took some pictures
- built 2 websites from scratch
- danced
- did yoga - ?
- rocked and rolled
creativity
While at Berkly Bowl, waiting for sme co-workers to grab their dinner snack I read an article in Psycholog Today. It was about creativity. You can read it HERE. The first part is below :
"The tattoo artists throughout Russia's prison system have never had lessons in painting technique (nor, apparently, hygiene training). They don't have ink and tools at their disposal. And yet they create entire murals on one another's chests and backs: onion-domed cathedrals, intricate cobwebs, chilly grim reapers. And they're not just beautiful decorations—they are coded biographies, telling those in the know their bearer's history and affiliations.
One would be hard-pressed to find a tougher environment than the jails where these artists work. Their ink is made from soot shaved off their shoes and mixed with urine. It's injected via guitar strings attached to electric shavers. The tattoos are a brutal mafia ritual. But they're also a mark of determined resourcefulness and self-expression.
When we think of creativity, we think of Mozart, Picasso, Einstein—people with a seemingly fated convergence of talent and opportunity. It's too narrow a set of references, because the truth is that all sorts of people, possessing various levels of intelligence and natural ability, are capable of engaging in fulfilling creative processes. Just because you'll never be Brando or Balanchine doesn't mean that you can't harness your idea-generating powers and make your life your own masterpiece."
"The tattoo artists throughout Russia's prison system have never had lessons in painting technique (nor, apparently, hygiene training). They don't have ink and tools at their disposal. And yet they create entire murals on one another's chests and backs: onion-domed cathedrals, intricate cobwebs, chilly grim reapers. And they're not just beautiful decorations—they are coded biographies, telling those in the know their bearer's history and affiliations.
One would be hard-pressed to find a tougher environment than the jails where these artists work. Their ink is made from soot shaved off their shoes and mixed with urine. It's injected via guitar strings attached to electric shavers. The tattoos are a brutal mafia ritual. But they're also a mark of determined resourcefulness and self-expression.
When we think of creativity, we think of Mozart, Picasso, Einstein—people with a seemingly fated convergence of talent and opportunity. It's too narrow a set of references, because the truth is that all sorts of people, possessing various levels of intelligence and natural ability, are capable of engaging in fulfilling creative processes. Just because you'll never be Brando or Balanchine doesn't mean that you can't harness your idea-generating powers and make your life your own masterpiece."
Intense
Cashless Man
The Freeconomist Mark Boyle has given up using cash. Photograph: Matt Cardy/Getty Images
The Freeconomist Mark Boyle has given up using cash. Photograph: Matt Cardy/Getty Images
Sean Hayes
I still haven't commented on what was one of the highlights of my summer. Sean Hayes - and the awesome free event thrown by Fat Tire. Tour De Fat, from what I gathered, is an event to get awesome people together to celebrate bicycles, bike transportation, good music, circus acts, crazy music and a fundraiser for local bike coalitions. ? I think.
It was awesome. Free - which is always a biggy. The SF weather cooperated and it was sunny. They sold $5 tokens for the cups of beer. There was leather stamping stations. T-shirt making stations. There was a woman making snarky cards, here too. Be prepared to be minorly offended but laugh a lot. There was a woman on a typewriter typing poems for however much you wanted to pay. I only had $.25 leftover. She still wrote me a poem. It goes like this :
September 26th, 2009
is the day that you
raise your hands to some
chosen tree and find
a true speech of XXX
thanks to offer up.
I will stand beside you,
if only in thought.
We were front and center for Sean Hayes - the sexiest beat up musician alive. We danced barefoot and it was perfect.
A few things I learned from that event :
Fat Tire Beer is even better than I thought
The weirder you are on stage the more people will love you. Let go of inhibitions.
I will pay $6 for a small potato veggie cake thing because im used to event food being so expensive, $6 seems like nothing.
You can do anything as long as you love it. You can. (deep i know. ha)
It was awesome. Free - which is always a biggy. The SF weather cooperated and it was sunny. They sold $5 tokens for the cups of beer. There was leather stamping stations. T-shirt making stations. There was a woman making snarky cards, here too. Be prepared to be minorly offended but laugh a lot. There was a woman on a typewriter typing poems for however much you wanted to pay. I only had $.25 leftover. She still wrote me a poem. It goes like this :
September 26th, 2009
is the day that you
raise your hands to some
chosen tree and find
a true speech of XXX
thanks to offer up.
I will stand beside you,
if only in thought.
We were front and center for Sean Hayes - the sexiest beat up musician alive. We danced barefoot and it was perfect.
A few things I learned from that event :
Fat Tire Beer is even better than I thought
The weirder you are on stage the more people will love you. Let go of inhibitions.
I will pay $6 for a small potato veggie cake thing because im used to event food being so expensive, $6 seems like nothing.
You can do anything as long as you love it. You can. (deep i know. ha)
camping and other adventures....
A few friends and I went camping the other weekend. What was supposed to be a day of canoeing in the sun turned into a day of fog at the beach. Our first attempt in Guernville was unsuccessful, mainly because they wouldn't allow campfires. Peace out!
The beach. Foggy, wet, kind of cold. Somehow my friends found a spot secluded from families and children. We woke up in the middle of the night with what we thought were bandit raccoons getting into our stuff. It serves us right we left everything out to get damp and scavenged about. After peeking out though we discovered it was a skunk. Im not sure which one's worse. Point being our popcorn - devoured. All our eggs which were in a cooler - devoured. Homemade muffins - gone. Ugh.
In other adventures I got a job! WOOOOHHOOOO!!!!! - more news about that later.
Also in more adventures. I carved 2 pumpkins in 2 days. This is huge considering I don't think I've actually carved a pumpkin since my senior year of HS. We did good. The first one was a pretty good (accidental) representation of Max's boat from Where the Wild Things Are. And the second was a sick pirate. It was the one where we had to "shade" the pumpkin, not carve all of it out. We used a stencil. It was fun.
Life is good.
I burnt my shoe/slipper on the fire. I didn't know it was burning. It melted. And girls like lighter fluid too.
The beach. Foggy, wet, kind of cold. Somehow my friends found a spot secluded from families and children. We woke up in the middle of the night with what we thought were bandit raccoons getting into our stuff. It serves us right we left everything out to get damp and scavenged about. After peeking out though we discovered it was a skunk. Im not sure which one's worse. Point being our popcorn - devoured. All our eggs which were in a cooler - devoured. Homemade muffins - gone. Ugh.
In other adventures I got a job! WOOOOHHOOOO!!!!! - more news about that later.
Also in more adventures. I carved 2 pumpkins in 2 days. This is huge considering I don't think I've actually carved a pumpkin since my senior year of HS. We did good. The first one was a pretty good (accidental) representation of Max's boat from Where the Wild Things Are. And the second was a sick pirate. It was the one where we had to "shade" the pumpkin, not carve all of it out. We used a stencil. It was fun.
Life is good.
I burnt my shoe/slipper on the fire. I didn't know it was burning. It melted. And girls like lighter fluid too.
columbus day
It's only fitting that the one time I am actually aware of the location of my parked car is when it actually doesn't matter. To anyway who doesn't have children, or work in a government job (I'm guessing actually a lot of SF residents) how are we supposed to know when holiday's are? Especially holiday's which should be re thought out holidays such as Columbus day. So, I go to move my car this morning around 8am. Usually, like when I have gotten ticketed in the past, there are no other car's on the street, and it is indeed this big dirty circle around my vehicle that is proof the sweeper has come by. Not this morning though. No one was out moving their cars, just me. Hmm. I was a bit confused, but I don't need any more tickets, so I hop in, grab a paper, and sit reading, and waiting. 8:05 turns into 8:45. Shit. A few more people come out, just as confused as me, one person with two cars having to move (ouch). One woman says she got ticketed on a holiday once, when asking a DPT official she responded that unless it doesn't say "except Sunday's and holiday's" then you will get ticketed. Well!
With the paper read, I was waiting, and bored, so I busted out my laptop, was somehow able to get a signal from somewhere, and googled, "street sweeping san francisco october 12, 2009". And sure enough, there listed out were the holiday's they don't sweep, it said, "Street Cleaning violations are enforced if posted "7 days a week" or "Everyday Including Holidays." Below are the following holidays :
Mechanical Sweeping is not performed on the following holidays:
January 1, 2009 (New Year's Day)
January 19, 2009 (Martin Luther King Day)
February 16, 2009 (Presidents' Day)
May 25, 2009 (Memorial Day)
July 3, 2009 (Independence Day, Observed)
September 7, 2009 (Labor Day)
October 12, 2009 (Columbus Day)
November 11, 2009 (Veterans' Day)
November 26, 2009 (Thanksgiving Day)
November 27, 2009 (Day after Thanksgiving)
December 25, 2009 (Christmas Day)
Now I know. At least I got time to read some NY Times, where I read a sort of disturbing story about 6 year old boy who got suspended for bringing his boy scout utensil to school. Poor guy.
With the paper read, I was waiting, and bored, so I busted out my laptop, was somehow able to get a signal from somewhere, and googled, "street sweeping san francisco october 12, 2009". And sure enough, there listed out were the holiday's they don't sweep, it said, "Street Cleaning violations are enforced if posted "7 days a week" or "Everyday Including Holidays." Below are the following holidays :
Mechanical Sweeping is not performed on the following holidays:
January 1, 2009 (New Year's Day)
January 19, 2009 (Martin Luther King Day)
February 16, 2009 (Presidents' Day)
May 25, 2009 (Memorial Day)
July 3, 2009 (Independence Day, Observed)
September 7, 2009 (Labor Day)
October 12, 2009 (Columbus Day)
November 11, 2009 (Veterans' Day)
November 26, 2009 (Thanksgiving Day)
November 27, 2009 (Day after Thanksgiving)
December 25, 2009 (Christmas Day)
Now I know. At least I got time to read some NY Times, where I read a sort of disturbing story about 6 year old boy who got suspended for bringing his boy scout utensil to school. Poor guy.
it's fall.
Do you ever buy trailmix thinking "this will be good for me". Nuts, raisins, and some sort of bird seed look a like. Two day's later only reaching back into the bag to discover all the little chocolate smidgens have somehow gone missing. All interest in said trailmix evaporated.
I will probably bring trailmix camping this weekend. There is no other food you can incorporate into all others. It's breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's also a perfect boredom snack. You can organize all ingredients. You can organize by flavor, color, or texture. You can throw it at friends, you can try and catch them in your mouth, you can put them on mellows and grahams if you don't' want to buy an entire smores size package of chocolate.
I will also probably bring Pumpkin beer camping. Tis the season for fall colors, fall flavor's, and reason's to eat things like pie. I once brought an entire apple pie camping. I didn't bring it, my friend Matt hiked 2 miles through the snow with the damn thing so we could have dessert after our baguette and jelly sandwiches. We were going to cook steak but we somehow forgot there would be no dry wood for fires in a forest covered with snow. Yeah, we were in high school. Spontaneity won over clarity everytime.
Speaking of HS, Katy St Clair - the food, opinion, writer of all things interesting for the SF Weekly, wrote a humorous piece this week about her HS reunion.
I will probably bring trailmix camping this weekend. There is no other food you can incorporate into all others. It's breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's also a perfect boredom snack. You can organize all ingredients. You can organize by flavor, color, or texture. You can throw it at friends, you can try and catch them in your mouth, you can put them on mellows and grahams if you don't' want to buy an entire smores size package of chocolate.
I will also probably bring Pumpkin beer camping. Tis the season for fall colors, fall flavor's, and reason's to eat things like pie. I once brought an entire apple pie camping. I didn't bring it, my friend Matt hiked 2 miles through the snow with the damn thing so we could have dessert after our baguette and jelly sandwiches. We were going to cook steak but we somehow forgot there would be no dry wood for fires in a forest covered with snow. Yeah, we were in high school. Spontaneity won over clarity everytime.
Speaking of HS, Katy St Clair - the food, opinion, writer of all things interesting for the SF Weekly, wrote a humorous piece this week about her HS reunion.
Whole Foods
Im sitting at Bernie's Coffee on 24th st in Noe Valley San Francisco. The Whole Foods store open's today right next door. Many assumed it would open right at 8 or 9, but we have to wait all the way until 10. Before even opening their doors they have these people's hearts and wallets. There isn't any real grocery store in Noe, and for families and people who seem to love their saturday fresh food market so much - therefore Im assuming love to cook, who can blame them.
currently
I found a quarter on the sidewalk yesterday. I also got elbow bumped by a stranger about 30sec later. The sidewalk was completely empty. I don't get it. Ive been working on my personal resume get me a job website for the past month and half. It would have been faster had I known Dreamweaver a billion times better, or if my drive hadn't crashed. Yeah, that sucked. Im going to a fundraiser tonight SF to Uganda -check it. Im also about to go on the roof and witness this really weird weather. It's not like Sydney dust storms, but still. Our microwave broke. I now have to use the stove and oven. Im not coping well. Im currently addicted to Black Eyed Peas, and I am really kind of bummed I didn't get tickets to the Phoenix show.
here are some pics of the trip. the top picture is of some alcoholic concoction on fire. it was good. it was like spiced cider.
here are some pics of the trip. the top picture is of some alcoholic concoction on fire. it was good. it was like spiced cider.
back
We're back. Back, and it feels good. Im reenergized, reorganized, re-inspired - mainly to bring my bank account statement up from where it was before. Regardless of the motive it feels good. Im tan, also probably more wrinkled and more melanoma prone than before. Note: this may or may not have been due to a 5 day stint in a wonderful place called Cadaques and it's modern garden of Eden - or as commonly referred, naked beach. A cove, which was once im sure the edge of town, with smooth slanted rocks sliding gently into the clear water. It's a weird experience having people swim around you with just sandals and a scuba mask on.
Pictures to come. Hi San francisco, I have missed you. Really.
Pictures to come. Hi San francisco, I have missed you. Really.
headed to Spain...
and getting the heck out of here!
From the last post, Im sure you can tell, this love hate relationship I have going on with this city is wearing on my wits end. It seems as though everywhere I go im claustrophobic. Not that going to a different country is going to change that, unless its the north of Russia in the middle of December, where there are no people.
It's like no one is aware of personal space anymore, or maybe ive just become hyper sensitive. It also seems like everyone is in a mad mad rush to be places. If they don't scurry to that corner they wont be the first ones in line to get to yadda yadda yadda. Its getting to me. Maybe im just getting old, annoyed, and stubborn in my ripe old age of 25.
regardless, im looking forward to this change of pace and the opportunity to get lost with nowhere to be. yes!
until next time...
From the last post, Im sure you can tell, this love hate relationship I have going on with this city is wearing on my wits end. It seems as though everywhere I go im claustrophobic. Not that going to a different country is going to change that, unless its the north of Russia in the middle of December, where there are no people.
It's like no one is aware of personal space anymore, or maybe ive just become hyper sensitive. It also seems like everyone is in a mad mad rush to be places. If they don't scurry to that corner they wont be the first ones in line to get to yadda yadda yadda. Its getting to me. Maybe im just getting old, annoyed, and stubborn in my ripe old age of 25.
regardless, im looking forward to this change of pace and the opportunity to get lost with nowhere to be. yes!
until next time...
love and hate relationship
Oh, this city and I. We have been through our ups and downs. Our long walks, and our traffic stops. Our stormy ocean, and sunny park days. But this weekend, oh great 7x7 mile chunk of concrete, you really got me. La Cocina, a new like minded supportive group of entrepeanuers in the local food world, brought their great minds together and created SF Street Food Festival which was held on Saturday. It was truly incredible.
Held from 11am to 7pm, and considering the slacking late morning behavior of sf missionites, we figured showing up around noon would put us in the perfect spot. The vendors would be set-up, but we wouldn't have to wait in long lines. Yeah, we couldn't have been more wrong. We turned the corner from 24th onto Folsom street and damn, it was packed! Two solid blocks of people, end to end, house to house. Packed. Despite this fact, knowing there was no way in hell we were going to get something to eat without waiting at the minimum another 45 minutes, it was an awesome event.
They had a great entrance, friendly volunteers, lot's of clean portapotties, a hand washing station, and samples you didn't have to wait so long for. Or maybe its the fact that I just saw caramel and chocolate together, disregarded the line behind me and dived in. Hmm.
Considering we planned our entire day around eating at the street fair, and we never actually got to eat, in any other circumstance this would have bugged the hell out of me, not this time thought! I was so proud for them that it worked! I was proud of the turn out they got, which, considering the space and amount of booths, I think was probably triple of what they thought they would get. I found the food and drink items reasonably priced especially with the type of food (really nice) and portions (lots) they were plating. Around $3 for an app, $8 for a meal, $4 for a drink.
After taking a long walk through the crowds we decided to walk behind the booths with a "behind the scenes" look at the festival. It was a unique view. To see the chefs and volunteers cooking, then the mob of heads bopping around. All very hungry and excited. That was the cool thing, and what really made me smile about experience was that everyone was happy, in a good mood, sharing this experience with their neighbor and the city. I loved that a group of people got together, had an idea, and did it. It didn't have to work, but they tried. It's all they had to do was try.
Here are a list of the vendors. Yum!
Oh wait, my hate relationship with this city.... Ill keep it short. We went to get Irish Coffee's at the famous Irish Coffee place. Its near Fisherman's Warf, so of course we expect tourists, and just annoyingness. It was Sunday morning, and I had to work at 4pm so really our day had to end at 3pm, so anything we want to do that day we kind of have to get up early and do it. Anyway, Irish Coffee's... We drive over there, and at 8:30am the drive was really nothing. No one was on the road. We find a great spot, the only spot left, but nevertheless right in front. It's Sunday. Sunday means free parking at meter's, RIGHT?! Oh no, apparently not near tourist money hogging SF! Come on city, can you give us just one day. Just one day a week for a break. Fine collect meter's on Sunday but at least make them cheaper. $3/hr come on! Anwyay, we suck it up, put in the only change we had which added up to 20 measly minutes. The place is called Buena Vista Cafe and before we even open the door we both know we aren't going to like it. First and foremost it was packed, at 9am on a Sunday. That doesn't happen until 1 in san fran. Second, it was, uhm how should I say, a lot of people dressed in raincoats (it wasn't raining), with floppy hats to protect them from the scary sun, and lot's of camera's flung around necks - ok they were tourists. But, we opened the door anyway to a very worn looking woman serving the nearest table saying there is no hostess and to seat ourselves. We took a seat at the bar, where the man behind the counter was wearing one of those old bartender outfits with the band thing around the arm. It wasn't even a whole 15 seconds from when we walked in to when we both looked at one another and decided to turn around and leave.
So damn you city and your stupid meters on Sunday - but I love you because it's things like that that keep me sticking around my own neighborhood - or venture over the bridge for beach days and hiking adventures.
Held from 11am to 7pm, and considering the slacking late morning behavior of sf missionites, we figured showing up around noon would put us in the perfect spot. The vendors would be set-up, but we wouldn't have to wait in long lines. Yeah, we couldn't have been more wrong. We turned the corner from 24th onto Folsom street and damn, it was packed! Two solid blocks of people, end to end, house to house. Packed. Despite this fact, knowing there was no way in hell we were going to get something to eat without waiting at the minimum another 45 minutes, it was an awesome event.
They had a great entrance, friendly volunteers, lot's of clean portapotties, a hand washing station, and samples you didn't have to wait so long for. Or maybe its the fact that I just saw caramel and chocolate together, disregarded the line behind me and dived in. Hmm.
Considering we planned our entire day around eating at the street fair, and we never actually got to eat, in any other circumstance this would have bugged the hell out of me, not this time thought! I was so proud for them that it worked! I was proud of the turn out they got, which, considering the space and amount of booths, I think was probably triple of what they thought they would get. I found the food and drink items reasonably priced especially with the type of food (really nice) and portions (lots) they were plating. Around $3 for an app, $8 for a meal, $4 for a drink.
After taking a long walk through the crowds we decided to walk behind the booths with a "behind the scenes" look at the festival. It was a unique view. To see the chefs and volunteers cooking, then the mob of heads bopping around. All very hungry and excited. That was the cool thing, and what really made me smile about experience was that everyone was happy, in a good mood, sharing this experience with their neighbor and the city. I loved that a group of people got together, had an idea, and did it. It didn't have to work, but they tried. It's all they had to do was try.
Here are a list of the vendors. Yum!
Oh wait, my hate relationship with this city.... Ill keep it short. We went to get Irish Coffee's at the famous Irish Coffee place. Its near Fisherman's Warf, so of course we expect tourists, and just annoyingness. It was Sunday morning, and I had to work at 4pm so really our day had to end at 3pm, so anything we want to do that day we kind of have to get up early and do it. Anyway, Irish Coffee's... We drive over there, and at 8:30am the drive was really nothing. No one was on the road. We find a great spot, the only spot left, but nevertheless right in front. It's Sunday. Sunday means free parking at meter's, RIGHT?! Oh no, apparently not near tourist money hogging SF! Come on city, can you give us just one day. Just one day a week for a break. Fine collect meter's on Sunday but at least make them cheaper. $3/hr come on! Anwyay, we suck it up, put in the only change we had which added up to 20 measly minutes. The place is called Buena Vista Cafe and before we even open the door we both know we aren't going to like it. First and foremost it was packed, at 9am on a Sunday. That doesn't happen until 1 in san fran. Second, it was, uhm how should I say, a lot of people dressed in raincoats (it wasn't raining), with floppy hats to protect them from the scary sun, and lot's of camera's flung around necks - ok they were tourists. But, we opened the door anyway to a very worn looking woman serving the nearest table saying there is no hostess and to seat ourselves. We took a seat at the bar, where the man behind the counter was wearing one of those old bartender outfits with the band thing around the arm. It wasn't even a whole 15 seconds from when we walked in to when we both looked at one another and decided to turn around and leave.
So damn you city and your stupid meters on Sunday - but I love you because it's things like that that keep me sticking around my own neighborhood - or venture over the bridge for beach days and hiking adventures.
there is this place called Harbin
Harbin Hotsprings. Checking out the link should tell you enough, but damn, you have to go! Its not just for Yogis.
Its incredible. GO.
Its incredible. GO.
went to a wedding, and had a good time
-worked until 4:00.
-picked up beau from airport at 5:30 (ok 6ish, i was late).
-he was hungry. took the wrong road to get food near airport. got on freeway instead. shit.
-ended up in middle of no where town three hours south/east. ate pasta and beer.
-got back on road. it was f-ing hot.
-saw pretty sunset.
-needed gas. stopped at the weirdest creepiest convenient store - 11inch knives for sale - EVER.
-drove some more. 1/2 hour out of LA, stuck in traffic (surprise). 4 lanes going into 1.
-arrived in Santa Monica at 2am. visit old friends. sleep.
-tried to find coffee in Venice. really hate LA.
-arrived at destination - San Juan Capistrano - ate the most incredible, cheapest fish tacos
-attempted to purchase wedding gift. searched for Target. Best Buy, Costco, Pottry Barn - no Target.
-returned to what we thought was hotel destination - only wedding was held there - hotel back north 10 miles. shit.
-arrived at awkward hotel. they do not have bar or room service. shit.
-slept. showered. dressed. forgot hair product. damn.
-arrived BACK at reception/wedding destination. give me a cocktail.
-give me three cocktails, give me four. and a tequila shot please.
-danced ass off all night.
-it was a good wedding.
-picked up beau from airport at 5:30 (ok 6ish, i was late).
-he was hungry. took the wrong road to get food near airport. got on freeway instead. shit.
-ended up in middle of no where town three hours south/east. ate pasta and beer.
-got back on road. it was f-ing hot.
-saw pretty sunset.
-needed gas. stopped at the weirdest creepiest convenient store - 11inch knives for sale - EVER.
-drove some more. 1/2 hour out of LA, stuck in traffic (surprise). 4 lanes going into 1.
-arrived in Santa Monica at 2am. visit old friends. sleep.
-tried to find coffee in Venice. really hate LA.
-arrived at destination - San Juan Capistrano - ate the most incredible, cheapest fish tacos
-attempted to purchase wedding gift. searched for Target. Best Buy, Costco, Pottry Barn - no Target.
-returned to what we thought was hotel destination - only wedding was held there - hotel back north 10 miles. shit.
-arrived at awkward hotel. they do not have bar or room service. shit.
-slept. showered. dressed. forgot hair product. damn.
-arrived BACK at reception/wedding destination. give me a cocktail.
-give me three cocktails, give me four. and a tequila shot please.
-danced ass off all night.
-it was a good wedding.
food - lots of food
Tuesday night was Vegan Glutan Free thanksgiving. In other words, WTF? But let me tell you my friends, it might have just been one of the best Thanksgivings I can remember.
Walking into a house, filled with friendship and love, and of course the huge pot of mulled wine brewing (or sitting or steweing, or whatever mulled wine does) It truly was Thanksgiving. There were too many dishes to count, and all so unique, satisfying, hearty and healthy. I arrived planning on making a lentil / spaghetti squash veggie casserole, but the multitude of veggies dishes, and mine wouldn't have stood a chance. So, instead, I opted for my second option, banana chutney. My, and I can't even call it mine because I totally stole it from a dear friend. Anyway, the banana chutney recipe is the fail, easier than scooping ice cream out of the carton recipe. And its delicious. Banana's, onions, all spice, paprika, cinnamon, heat in pan. Done. And no, I didn't try the tofurkey, but the veggies cooked with it were to die for. Not sure what the marinade was, but my gosh!
Sitting around the coffee table. On the floor, couches and armrests, the plates almost filled the room. Everyone so colorful and full. Just like our bellies. The attempt of playing any sort of board game disappeared as soon as Gina started reading the Jenga directions as poetry. "Jenga, a Milton Bradley game...". The laughing began and I don't think stopped until after midnight.
Yes for thanksgivings in July. Lots to be thankful for.
Walking into a house, filled with friendship and love, and of course the huge pot of mulled wine brewing (or sitting or steweing, or whatever mulled wine does) It truly was Thanksgiving. There were too many dishes to count, and all so unique, satisfying, hearty and healthy. I arrived planning on making a lentil / spaghetti squash veggie casserole, but the multitude of veggies dishes, and mine wouldn't have stood a chance. So, instead, I opted for my second option, banana chutney. My, and I can't even call it mine because I totally stole it from a dear friend. Anyway, the banana chutney recipe is the fail, easier than scooping ice cream out of the carton recipe. And its delicious. Banana's, onions, all spice, paprika, cinnamon, heat in pan. Done. And no, I didn't try the tofurkey, but the veggies cooked with it were to die for. Not sure what the marinade was, but my gosh!
Sitting around the coffee table. On the floor, couches and armrests, the plates almost filled the room. Everyone so colorful and full. Just like our bellies. The attempt of playing any sort of board game disappeared as soon as Gina started reading the Jenga directions as poetry. "Jenga, a Milton Bradley game...". The laughing began and I don't think stopped until after midnight.
Yes for thanksgivings in July. Lots to be thankful for.
a week of sports and other ventures
Tues night a friend of mine snagged 4 tickets to the A's game, for the next day, a Wed afternoon. Him and his wife picked up my mom and I, and in the middle of the day with nothing else to do, went to a baseball game. No work, no traffic, lots of sun, and 12 to 1 by the second inning. Go A's. I bought the first beer, my mom bought the second. She also bought 2 hotdogs. This is interesting for one because you will rarely see either of us eating such things from the ball park, and two because just the day before we were talking about how hotdogs are really pretty unappealing, but sometimes you just need to have one. We also both agreed however that we really only like to have them at baseball games. It was dollar day at the part which meant the dog's were only a buck, how could you not have one? or two, or three?
The seats were great. First section, right behind third plate, and first row. No one sat behind us. No annoying drunks, im assuming because it was only one in the afternoon. Although sometimes that doesn't seem to stop some sports fans.
That night I headed into the city and saw the one and only (well, 6th of seven) Harry Potter. Sure I was a week late from the premier, but the theatre was still packed.
Thursday after work I headed down to San Jose for the women's professional soccer game. LA vs Bay Area. A friend I play soccer with volunteers for the Pride so I got to do a bunch of things normally unavailable. Like, watch the game from up above in the press box and from on the field behind the players' bench. That was actually pretty sweet. I love soccer. They needed some extra help so I sat my little booty at will call and handed out gobs of tickets. Everyone was in good spirits. It was nice. It's amazing how much work and how much of a team is takes to pull off just one game. From the announcer to the half time event, to the autograph signing at the end. It really is a big event.
Happy Monday!
The seats were great. First section, right behind third plate, and first row. No one sat behind us. No annoying drunks, im assuming because it was only one in the afternoon. Although sometimes that doesn't seem to stop some sports fans.
That night I headed into the city and saw the one and only (well, 6th of seven) Harry Potter. Sure I was a week late from the premier, but the theatre was still packed.
Thursday after work I headed down to San Jose for the women's professional soccer game. LA vs Bay Area. A friend I play soccer with volunteers for the Pride so I got to do a bunch of things normally unavailable. Like, watch the game from up above in the press box and from on the field behind the players' bench. That was actually pretty sweet. I love soccer. They needed some extra help so I sat my little booty at will call and handed out gobs of tickets. Everyone was in good spirits. It was nice. It's amazing how much work and how much of a team is takes to pull off just one game. From the announcer to the half time event, to the autograph signing at the end. It really is a big event.
Happy Monday!
people
I was walking to a friends house this morning in the TenderNob, just to give you some point of reference. On the front of his steps sat a scraggly bleach blonde woman and a man with a shaved head. The woman blurted out, "Wow, you have nice complexion. Man, look at those legs. You have nice color."
Thanks I said.
She then proceeded to tell her friend about a guy she knew who once pulled out his penis to stick a needle to shoot meth in a vein in said, uhm, thing. She was telling this story as she was smoking a crack pipe.
This was 9am on a Friday morning. It was weird.
Im not sure getting told I have nice complexion is a good thing coming from someone I can probably easily call a crack head.
In other news this weekend was gorgeous and almost too hot. Today is foggy and a little cold. Got to love SF.
Also the following is an article about a secret (and now not so much) hide away park hang out in the big NY.
NY Times - Bring a Towel
by MELENA RYZIK
The only thing cooler than a pool party on a summer night in New York City is a secret pool party.
On a rented lot that’s hidden from the street they have erected what they call a lo-fi urban country club: three connected pools housed in Dumpsters; a boccie court; some lounge chairs, grills and cabanas. On Saturday night just three dozen people got the nod to check it out, at an afterparty for the art journal Cabinet. “Please don’t forward,” the invitation read.
“It’s amazing,” the artist Nina Katchadourian said after taking a dip in the moonlight. “It makes you wonder, as so many things in New York do, what’s behind every wall that you can’t see past.”
Bobbing in the water on a pool toy was “the last thing I expected to be doing tonight,” added Aaron Levy, a curator visiting from Philadelphia.
Since the space opened over the Fourth of July weekend, it has been host to barbecues, photo shoots and a film screening. Lectures and other events are planned for the rest of the summer, but none are open to the public, to the chagrin of the design bloggers and other cool-hunters who have been chattering about it.
The idea, said David Belt, a real estate developer and the president of Macro-Sea, the company behind the pools, was not to create an exclusive party destination but to experiment with underused space and materials, repurposing them with urban renewal in mind.
“It’s a very simple concept,” said Jocko Weyland, Macro-Sea’s project manager. “There aren’t that many places to swim in New York.” And Dumpsters “are everywhere; they’re ubiquitous.”
The concept itself is borrowed. Mr. Belt, Mr. Weyland and Alix Feinkind, Macro-Sea’s creative director, heard about it in April, when they were scouting a project in Georgia. Curtis Crowe, a musician in the Athens band Pylon, had made one.
After Mr. Weyland had a brief phone conversation with him, Macro-Sea decided to make its own. It took about a month to find a suitably out of the way yet accessible space with an agreeable owner. (The pools are insured, Mr. Belt said, and the lot, filled with junk and machinery, is protected by a chain-link fence.)
From there the project proceeded quickly and cheaply, in guerrilla fashion: the Dumpsters were donated by a construction company that suddenly had a surplus (thanks, economic downturn), the designers who helped render the plans were recruited through Craigslist, and members of the small crew that erected it in a week were unpaid.
“They just wanted to be able to use it,” Mr. Belt said.
The garbage containers, which he described as “newish,” were cleaned and lined in plastic, and a filtration system was installed, as on a regular above-ground pool. Mr. Belt’s wife, Antonia, stitched together the coverings for the cabanas; the furniture came from Ikea. The main cost was the wood for the deck and the water: about 18,000 gallons, delivered from a New Jersey aquifer for $1,200.
“I tried to do it so that even if you had to rent one, you could do a stand-alone Dumpster, a grill and chair for under $1,000,” Mr. Belt said. Copycats are welcome, because Macro-Sea itself is using the project as a template for a larger idea: turning eyesore strip malls into artsy community destinations, with Dumpster pools and other indie attractions.
“I thought if we could get people to come here and swim in a Dumpster, I could probably use the same aesthetic sensibility” to get people — and, not incidentally, better retailers — to come to a dingy strip mall, Mr. Belt said. The company hopes to open its first repurposed shopping center in Atlanta this fall, ideally with dozens of pools in the parking lot that visitors can rent for the day.
While the project is conceptually simple — get a bunch of trash containers, clean and seal them, fill with water, jump in — there were a lot of details to finesse. The coarse edges inside the containers were filed down, and underneath the liners, the bottoms were covered in sand, for soft landings. Tightly packed sandbags double as benches along the walls, and pool toys and kid-friendliness provide an intentional counterpoint to the neighborhood grit.
With brightly colored lanterns crisscrossing overhead and music piped in from an iPod connected to a boombox, the feel is of a do-it-yourself urban oasis.
“The water’s amazingly fresh, for swimming in a Dumpster,” said Alexis Bloom, a documentary filmmaker from TriBeCa, after doing a few laps. She compared it favorably to the pool at Soho House, an actual urban country club.
The problem, of course, with having such a sexy space — especially a sexy private space — is that everyone wants to come.
After Mr. Weyland gave an interview to ReadyMade, the D.I.Y. design magazine, two weeks ago, breathless coverage and links began appearing all over the blogosphere. Soon the location was decoded. One post led to people standing on the roofs of cars in a nearby lot, snapping photos, Mr. Weyland said with an eye roll.
Though they’re certainly aware that there’s nothing more tantalizing to some New Yorkers than a party to which they weren’t invited, the creators profess surprise at the level of attention their project has received. “I’m glad that people like it,” Mr. Belt said. “But it’s not the end all, be all.”
They hope that visitors will be as chill as the Cabinet magazine partygoers, who somehow resisted the temptation to text all their friends the minute they got there. “It’s so easy to ruin something,” one sighed.
The pools are supposed to be open through August or until the coolness wears off. “If it gets really crowded,” Mr. Belt said, “I’ll shut it down.”
Thanks I said.
She then proceeded to tell her friend about a guy she knew who once pulled out his penis to stick a needle to shoot meth in a vein in said, uhm, thing. She was telling this story as she was smoking a crack pipe.
This was 9am on a Friday morning. It was weird.
Im not sure getting told I have nice complexion is a good thing coming from someone I can probably easily call a crack head.
In other news this weekend was gorgeous and almost too hot. Today is foggy and a little cold. Got to love SF.
Also the following is an article about a secret (and now not so much) hide away park hang out in the big NY.
NY Times - Bring a Towel
by MELENA RYZIK
The only thing cooler than a pool party on a summer night in New York City is a secret pool party.
On a rented lot that’s hidden from the street they have erected what they call a lo-fi urban country club: three connected pools housed in Dumpsters; a boccie court; some lounge chairs, grills and cabanas. On Saturday night just three dozen people got the nod to check it out, at an afterparty for the art journal Cabinet. “Please don’t forward,” the invitation read.
“It’s amazing,” the artist Nina Katchadourian said after taking a dip in the moonlight. “It makes you wonder, as so many things in New York do, what’s behind every wall that you can’t see past.”
Bobbing in the water on a pool toy was “the last thing I expected to be doing tonight,” added Aaron Levy, a curator visiting from Philadelphia.
Since the space opened over the Fourth of July weekend, it has been host to barbecues, photo shoots and a film screening. Lectures and other events are planned for the rest of the summer, but none are open to the public, to the chagrin of the design bloggers and other cool-hunters who have been chattering about it.
The idea, said David Belt, a real estate developer and the president of Macro-Sea, the company behind the pools, was not to create an exclusive party destination but to experiment with underused space and materials, repurposing them with urban renewal in mind.
“It’s a very simple concept,” said Jocko Weyland, Macro-Sea’s project manager. “There aren’t that many places to swim in New York.” And Dumpsters “are everywhere; they’re ubiquitous.”
The concept itself is borrowed. Mr. Belt, Mr. Weyland and Alix Feinkind, Macro-Sea’s creative director, heard about it in April, when they were scouting a project in Georgia. Curtis Crowe, a musician in the Athens band Pylon, had made one.
After Mr. Weyland had a brief phone conversation with him, Macro-Sea decided to make its own. It took about a month to find a suitably out of the way yet accessible space with an agreeable owner. (The pools are insured, Mr. Belt said, and the lot, filled with junk and machinery, is protected by a chain-link fence.)
From there the project proceeded quickly and cheaply, in guerrilla fashion: the Dumpsters were donated by a construction company that suddenly had a surplus (thanks, economic downturn), the designers who helped render the plans were recruited through Craigslist, and members of the small crew that erected it in a week were unpaid.
“They just wanted to be able to use it,” Mr. Belt said.
The garbage containers, which he described as “newish,” were cleaned and lined in plastic, and a filtration system was installed, as on a regular above-ground pool. Mr. Belt’s wife, Antonia, stitched together the coverings for the cabanas; the furniture came from Ikea. The main cost was the wood for the deck and the water: about 18,000 gallons, delivered from a New Jersey aquifer for $1,200.
“I tried to do it so that even if you had to rent one, you could do a stand-alone Dumpster, a grill and chair for under $1,000,” Mr. Belt said. Copycats are welcome, because Macro-Sea itself is using the project as a template for a larger idea: turning eyesore strip malls into artsy community destinations, with Dumpster pools and other indie attractions.
“I thought if we could get people to come here and swim in a Dumpster, I could probably use the same aesthetic sensibility” to get people — and, not incidentally, better retailers — to come to a dingy strip mall, Mr. Belt said. The company hopes to open its first repurposed shopping center in Atlanta this fall, ideally with dozens of pools in the parking lot that visitors can rent for the day.
While the project is conceptually simple — get a bunch of trash containers, clean and seal them, fill with water, jump in — there were a lot of details to finesse. The coarse edges inside the containers were filed down, and underneath the liners, the bottoms were covered in sand, for soft landings. Tightly packed sandbags double as benches along the walls, and pool toys and kid-friendliness provide an intentional counterpoint to the neighborhood grit.
With brightly colored lanterns crisscrossing overhead and music piped in from an iPod connected to a boombox, the feel is of a do-it-yourself urban oasis.
“The water’s amazingly fresh, for swimming in a Dumpster,” said Alexis Bloom, a documentary filmmaker from TriBeCa, after doing a few laps. She compared it favorably to the pool at Soho House, an actual urban country club.
The problem, of course, with having such a sexy space — especially a sexy private space — is that everyone wants to come.
After Mr. Weyland gave an interview to ReadyMade, the D.I.Y. design magazine, two weeks ago, breathless coverage and links began appearing all over the blogosphere. Soon the location was decoded. One post led to people standing on the roofs of cars in a nearby lot, snapping photos, Mr. Weyland said with an eye roll.
Though they’re certainly aware that there’s nothing more tantalizing to some New Yorkers than a party to which they weren’t invited, the creators profess surprise at the level of attention their project has received. “I’m glad that people like it,” Mr. Belt said. “But it’s not the end all, be all.”
They hope that visitors will be as chill as the Cabinet magazine partygoers, who somehow resisted the temptation to text all their friends the minute they got there. “It’s so easy to ruin something,” one sighed.
The pools are supposed to be open through August or until the coolness wears off. “If it gets really crowded,” Mr. Belt said, “I’ll shut it down.”
the hat sac thing... what?
I don't know what to think about this : HERE
Why? Don't jackets and jeans have enough pockets as it is?
Why? Don't jackets and jeans have enough pockets as it is?
I don't speak Russian
It was a really slow day at work yesterday. Tuesday days have been historically slow, but yesterday was particularly slug like. It could have been the 90 deg weather or the fact that July is the month families generally go on vacation.
Whichever it was it was slow. It was also a really really good day. I served some great people, some regulars I haven't seen in awhile, and that was rewarding.
Quality over quantity? Maybe.
There is the son and father who the first day I served them I was a wreck and was running around like a crazy person. It's nice to get into a rhythm now, have my head on straight and bring them exactly what I know they want. A pitcher of water because they drink like fish. They came in with their sister / daughter mom / wife not too long ago and that was fun to see them interact with their very friendly family.
There were the two older gentlemen, both bachelors I think, and loaded. They have great style for older guys, and are actually kind of charming. Not in a creepy old guy way, but like a sweet wiser elder way. They drink their Coors LIghts, and order our Imperial salad with no sesame seeds. We always talk about something weird. They picked up on the last remnants of my flu, via my runny and stuffy nose. Guy in seat one was wearing boat loafers and some bling im sure he picked up on has last sailling trip and guy in seat two flip flops and board shorts. Pretty sweet for two old guys.
Then on table 703 was the most adorable couple who almost got me in trouble last time I served them because I couldn't get anything else done, they wouldn't stop talking. They just got back from a 6 week trip back east because one of their mothers had a series of unfortunate events including her health and her house. Her house which her husband had built, and now they had to sell it because no one in their family wanted to live in North Carolina. Which made me sad that something like that couldn't stay in the family, but then it also made me realize, its just a house....
Anyway they came in and the husband lifted up his hat and showed me the staples in his head because he just underwent brain surgery because they found a tumor. And that is when I thought, Jesus, and this is life. Despite him still recovering he remembered my media film history and interest and that I was considering doing some volunteering abroad. It felt so good that he remembered. He didn't have to and he didn't have to care. He was sweet. Him and his wife also reminded me that there was a lot of volunteering and giving to do locally. Which is true, and I also appreciated, but this is not my home, and I don't care, I want to leave. Get me out of here.
All in all it was a good day. Although serving food is not my calling, I do appreciate where I was when I started, where I have come, and the people I have met a long the way.
During sunset we took the dog for a walk. There was a Russian couple walking their huge bull dog. It wasn't moving so they yelled some orders at it - in Russian. I could not understand what they were saying for the life of me, and I realized (although probably a dumb simple thought), this is what the dog hears then I speak. When I say come, or here, or sit, or leave it. It's all just jibberish. And yes, I understand, dogs can't speak or understand language, but it was at that moment that it hit me how funny it is that I say these words to the dog like he knows what the hell im talking about. And yes, I know he understands patterns, and the same sounds when put together and blah blah blah. Whatever. Anyway, it was funny.
Whichever it was it was slow. It was also a really really good day. I served some great people, some regulars I haven't seen in awhile, and that was rewarding.
Quality over quantity? Maybe.
There is the son and father who the first day I served them I was a wreck and was running around like a crazy person. It's nice to get into a rhythm now, have my head on straight and bring them exactly what I know they want. A pitcher of water because they drink like fish. They came in with their sister / daughter mom / wife not too long ago and that was fun to see them interact with their very friendly family.
There were the two older gentlemen, both bachelors I think, and loaded. They have great style for older guys, and are actually kind of charming. Not in a creepy old guy way, but like a sweet wiser elder way. They drink their Coors LIghts, and order our Imperial salad with no sesame seeds. We always talk about something weird. They picked up on the last remnants of my flu, via my runny and stuffy nose. Guy in seat one was wearing boat loafers and some bling im sure he picked up on has last sailling trip and guy in seat two flip flops and board shorts. Pretty sweet for two old guys.
Then on table 703 was the most adorable couple who almost got me in trouble last time I served them because I couldn't get anything else done, they wouldn't stop talking. They just got back from a 6 week trip back east because one of their mothers had a series of unfortunate events including her health and her house. Her house which her husband had built, and now they had to sell it because no one in their family wanted to live in North Carolina. Which made me sad that something like that couldn't stay in the family, but then it also made me realize, its just a house....
Anyway they came in and the husband lifted up his hat and showed me the staples in his head because he just underwent brain surgery because they found a tumor. And that is when I thought, Jesus, and this is life. Despite him still recovering he remembered my media film history and interest and that I was considering doing some volunteering abroad. It felt so good that he remembered. He didn't have to and he didn't have to care. He was sweet. Him and his wife also reminded me that there was a lot of volunteering and giving to do locally. Which is true, and I also appreciated, but this is not my home, and I don't care, I want to leave. Get me out of here.
All in all it was a good day. Although serving food is not my calling, I do appreciate where I was when I started, where I have come, and the people I have met a long the way.
During sunset we took the dog for a walk. There was a Russian couple walking their huge bull dog. It wasn't moving so they yelled some orders at it - in Russian. I could not understand what they were saying for the life of me, and I realized (although probably a dumb simple thought), this is what the dog hears then I speak. When I say come, or here, or sit, or leave it. It's all just jibberish. And yes, I understand, dogs can't speak or understand language, but it was at that moment that it hit me how funny it is that I say these words to the dog like he knows what the hell im talking about. And yes, I know he understands patterns, and the same sounds when put together and blah blah blah. Whatever. Anyway, it was funny.
garage doors and other things
here is a series of garage doors found in and around Noe Valley.
You see these things in the movies. Hear about them, but don't actually thing they exists. Oh yes, yes they do. ..... The mechanical chair stair thingy mi bob......
You see these things in the movies. Hear about them, but don't actually thing they exists. Oh yes, yes they do. ..... The mechanical chair stair thingy mi bob......
girls
I had the most fantastic of days. And get this, it's not even over?! It was a leisurely start, and so far, a leisurely middle. My cereal was accompanied by a Trader Joes brownie. Ok, two TJ brownies. ... ok, three. But only three, and they were small! I onlined awhile. Onlined, smiles for new invented verbs. Got shit done.
I walked. I walked at first with headphones in, but that was just distracting as there were so many things going on i wanted to enjoy and experience. Like, for instance, the woman with the stroller who thought it would be a good idea to try and move through traffic. stupid.
I walked down a street ive never been down before. I saw the sun on many a peoples faces and saw benches, and flowers, and an earring (that looked like a peacock feather) stuck to a palm tree. Im assuming someone had dropped and lost it and someone else decided to leave it there for said owner. I could be wrong and maybe someone just wanted to give the palm tree some accessories. Beauty it up a little. Or not. ...
I saw someone cleaning out their garage. I saw a lot of colorful garages. It's san francisco, everything is colorful. I visited a book store, got some coffee. some delicious coffee. yum. walked some more. walked very slowly. sat on a fire hydrant for a good twenty minutes. just sat. sat and watched. watched the people on the corner try and sign the passersby up w/ something environmental or child saving. I dont think i could do that job.
I waited outside the body piercing place for it to open. those lazy bastards don't open until noon. HA. I didn't buy anything because at $60/ pair I really better like them. I sucked on a lollipop. I walked some more. I saw people ive seen a lot before, because like I have also said before, its a jumbo sized college campus. I sat for a long time. it was really hot and all I really wanted to do was get naked. I settled for the next best thing and took my shirt off and unbuttoned my pants. i was still really hot. So i took my shirt off and laid on my stomach. hey, don't judge. I read some, and ate a delicious nectarine. it was soooo juicy. and just when i thought my day couldn't get any better, girls (hello sarcasm). two girls walked up. and out of the entire park, the entire practically empty park, they chose to sit oh very close to me. those bastards.
overhearing their very loud and obnoxious conversation i came to realize they had just graduated high school, one of them was going to school in san francisco, they were both from Montreal, and they definitely did not live in the mission. I know this because they were talking about how nice it is over "here". aka, the mission. Anyway, long story short I was having a wonderful quiet relaxing afternoon until these two chatter mouths came and made me feel like I was sitting on top of them. So, the title of this post, Girls. Girls. Not sure what im going to do if I end up birthing one. They can be loud, and annoying, and whiny. But, i survived, and my mom still puts up with me. Lesson learned.
I have pictures to come, but yes, they are to come. .....
I walked. I walked at first with headphones in, but that was just distracting as there were so many things going on i wanted to enjoy and experience. Like, for instance, the woman with the stroller who thought it would be a good idea to try and move through traffic. stupid.
I walked down a street ive never been down before. I saw the sun on many a peoples faces and saw benches, and flowers, and an earring (that looked like a peacock feather) stuck to a palm tree. Im assuming someone had dropped and lost it and someone else decided to leave it there for said owner. I could be wrong and maybe someone just wanted to give the palm tree some accessories. Beauty it up a little. Or not. ...
I saw someone cleaning out their garage. I saw a lot of colorful garages. It's san francisco, everything is colorful. I visited a book store, got some coffee. some delicious coffee. yum. walked some more. walked very slowly. sat on a fire hydrant for a good twenty minutes. just sat. sat and watched. watched the people on the corner try and sign the passersby up w/ something environmental or child saving. I dont think i could do that job.
I waited outside the body piercing place for it to open. those lazy bastards don't open until noon. HA. I didn't buy anything because at $60/ pair I really better like them. I sucked on a lollipop. I walked some more. I saw people ive seen a lot before, because like I have also said before, its a jumbo sized college campus. I sat for a long time. it was really hot and all I really wanted to do was get naked. I settled for the next best thing and took my shirt off and unbuttoned my pants. i was still really hot. So i took my shirt off and laid on my stomach. hey, don't judge. I read some, and ate a delicious nectarine. it was soooo juicy. and just when i thought my day couldn't get any better, girls (hello sarcasm). two girls walked up. and out of the entire park, the entire practically empty park, they chose to sit oh very close to me. those bastards.
overhearing their very loud and obnoxious conversation i came to realize they had just graduated high school, one of them was going to school in san francisco, they were both from Montreal, and they definitely did not live in the mission. I know this because they were talking about how nice it is over "here". aka, the mission. Anyway, long story short I was having a wonderful quiet relaxing afternoon until these two chatter mouths came and made me feel like I was sitting on top of them. So, the title of this post, Girls. Girls. Not sure what im going to do if I end up birthing one. They can be loud, and annoying, and whiny. But, i survived, and my mom still puts up with me. Lesson learned.
I have pictures to come, but yes, they are to come. .....
meanderings
One of my most very best friends told me a story the other day. Her and her boyfriend were in Mexico. The had a good day and were hoofing it back to their hotel. On the way my friend suggested they slow down, take in what was around them, and meander their way back. Meander? My friends bf was confused and didn't know why you would meander when you obviously know exactly where you are going. But, ok, he agreed. They slowed their pace and eventually wondered into a party where they danced the night away and had an incredible, unexpected time.
I need to do a bit more meandering in my life.
Regarding meandering, here are some pics of yesterday. Who doesn't love board games on the beach?
I need to do a bit more meandering in my life.
Regarding meandering, here are some pics of yesterday. Who doesn't love board games on the beach?
cocktails
Driving the other day I passed a sign above a bar. The sign said COCKTAILS. Cocktails. What a funny word, and really, just kind of a funny word for what we use it for. It's meant to describe a mix of alcoholic drink. Hmm. Here is WIKI's definition of it.
Here is the history portion, if interested :
"The earliest known printed use of the word "cocktail" was from The Farmer's Cabinet, April 28, 1803:[4] "11. Drank a glass of cocktail — excellent for the head ... Call'd at the Doct's. found Burnham — he looked very wise — drank another glass of cocktail."
The earliest definition of "cocktail" was in the May 13, 1806, edition of the Balance and Columbian Repository, a publication in Hudson, New York, in which an answer was provided to the question, "What is a cocktail?". It stated that:
“Cocktail is a stimulating liquor composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters — it is vulgarly called a bittered sling and is supposed to be an excellent electioneering potion, inasmuch as it renders the heart stout and bold, at the same time that it fuddles the head. It is said, also to be of great use to a Democratic candidate: because a person, having swallowed a glass of it, is ready to swallow anything else.”
Compare the ingredients listed (spirits, sugar, water, and bitters) with the ingredients of an Old Fashioned.
Often, the Sazerac is cited as the first cocktail, even though it didn't appear until 25 years later.
The first publication of a bartenders' guide which included cocktail recipes was in 1862: How to Mix Drinks; or, The Bon Vivant's Companion, by "Professor" Jerry Thomas. In addition to listings of recipes for Punches, Sours, Slings, Cobblers, Shrubs, Toddies, Flips, and a variety of other types of mixed drinks were 10 recipes for drinks referred to as "Cocktails". A key ingredient which differentiated "cocktails" from other drinks in this compendium was the use of bitters as an ingredient, although it is not used in many modern cocktail recipes.
The first "cocktail party" ever thrown was allegedly by Mrs. Julius S. Walsh Jr. of St. Louis, Missouri, in May 1917. Mrs. Walsh invited 50 guests to her mansion at noon on a Sunday. The party lasted one hour, until lunch was served at 1pm. The site of the first cocktail party still stands. In 1924 the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of St. Louis bought the Walsh mansion at 4510 Lindell Blvd., and it has served as the local archbishop's residence ever since. [5]
During Prohibition in the United States (1920–1933), when the sale of alcoholic beverages was illegal, cocktails were still consumed illegally in establishments known as speakeasies. The quality of the alcohol available was far lower than was previously used, and bartenders generally put forth less effort in preparing the cocktails.[2] There was a shift from whiskey to gin, which doesn't require aging and is therefore easier to produce illicitly.[6]
Cocktails became less popular in the late 1960s and 1970s as other recreational drugs became common. In the 1980s cocktails once again became popular, with vodka often substituted for gin in drinks such as the martini. In the 2000s, traditional cocktails and gin are starting to make a comeback.[7]"
Here is the history portion, if interested :
"The earliest known printed use of the word "cocktail" was from The Farmer's Cabinet, April 28, 1803:[4] "11. Drank a glass of cocktail — excellent for the head ... Call'd at the Doct's. found Burnham — he looked very wise — drank another glass of cocktail."
The earliest definition of "cocktail" was in the May 13, 1806, edition of the Balance and Columbian Repository, a publication in Hudson, New York, in which an answer was provided to the question, "What is a cocktail?". It stated that:
“Cocktail is a stimulating liquor composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters — it is vulgarly called a bittered sling and is supposed to be an excellent electioneering potion, inasmuch as it renders the heart stout and bold, at the same time that it fuddles the head. It is said, also to be of great use to a Democratic candidate: because a person, having swallowed a glass of it, is ready to swallow anything else.”
Compare the ingredients listed (spirits, sugar, water, and bitters) with the ingredients of an Old Fashioned.
Often, the Sazerac is cited as the first cocktail, even though it didn't appear until 25 years later.
The first publication of a bartenders' guide which included cocktail recipes was in 1862: How to Mix Drinks; or, The Bon Vivant's Companion, by "Professor" Jerry Thomas. In addition to listings of recipes for Punches, Sours, Slings, Cobblers, Shrubs, Toddies, Flips, and a variety of other types of mixed drinks were 10 recipes for drinks referred to as "Cocktails". A key ingredient which differentiated "cocktails" from other drinks in this compendium was the use of bitters as an ingredient, although it is not used in many modern cocktail recipes.
The first "cocktail party" ever thrown was allegedly by Mrs. Julius S. Walsh Jr. of St. Louis, Missouri, in May 1917. Mrs. Walsh invited 50 guests to her mansion at noon on a Sunday. The party lasted one hour, until lunch was served at 1pm. The site of the first cocktail party still stands. In 1924 the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of St. Louis bought the Walsh mansion at 4510 Lindell Blvd., and it has served as the local archbishop's residence ever since. [5]
During Prohibition in the United States (1920–1933), when the sale of alcoholic beverages was illegal, cocktails were still consumed illegally in establishments known as speakeasies. The quality of the alcohol available was far lower than was previously used, and bartenders generally put forth less effort in preparing the cocktails.[2] There was a shift from whiskey to gin, which doesn't require aging and is therefore easier to produce illicitly.[6]
Cocktails became less popular in the late 1960s and 1970s as other recreational drugs became common. In the 1980s cocktails once again became popular, with vodka often substituted for gin in drinks such as the martini. In the 2000s, traditional cocktails and gin are starting to make a comeback.[7]"
balloons
This is a photo i took awhile ago at the 16th st BART station. Someone had tied up a bunch of balloons. So random how can that not make you smile. I love it.
Sometimes San Francisco, and the mission in particular remind me of a college campus.
Sometimes San Francisco, and the mission in particular remind me of a college campus.
kristens away message
Yes Ms Moore Im talking to you. Because of your gchat message I think I will now give the name christ whenever ordering anything to go. And no I can't capitalize/punctuate that correctly, I just feel wrong.
I was once working at a Starbucks. Yes, I did it for only maybe a month. It was the 4am to 11am shift. Besides being tempted by all the pastries in the morning it was actually a good shift. It went by fast. ... Anyway, this guy when time, when asked his name, responded with the word, "Me." Like Me was his name. .... I don't care if it was or if it wasn't but it was a pretty clever / smart ass thing to do. ... The kid at the register hardly knew what to do with himself.
I wonder how long it will be until we all just have numbers to identify us. Like Social Security numbers I suppose. No one will ever have to ask us our name. We'll just hold up our card (which has our personal number, and every other little bit of personal information on it) to a scanner and there ya go. Maybe there wont even be a scanner. Maybe they, or it, or whatever, will know who we are. Maybe they get our personal thumbprint as we open the door to the place so by the time we get to the front of the line the people already know what we want to drink. Ugh. Im creeping myself out.
I was once working at a Starbucks. Yes, I did it for only maybe a month. It was the 4am to 11am shift. Besides being tempted by all the pastries in the morning it was actually a good shift. It went by fast. ... Anyway, this guy when time, when asked his name, responded with the word, "Me." Like Me was his name. .... I don't care if it was or if it wasn't but it was a pretty clever / smart ass thing to do. ... The kid at the register hardly knew what to do with himself.
I wonder how long it will be until we all just have numbers to identify us. Like Social Security numbers I suppose. No one will ever have to ask us our name. We'll just hold up our card (which has our personal number, and every other little bit of personal information on it) to a scanner and there ya go. Maybe there wont even be a scanner. Maybe they, or it, or whatever, will know who we are. Maybe they get our personal thumbprint as we open the door to the place so by the time we get to the front of the line the people already know what we want to drink. Ugh. Im creeping myself out.
the flow of events and other wanderings of the mind
I have been wanting to write a bio / about this thing for awhile now. When I first started this thing it was more of a journal than anything else. Let's face it, I was online more than doing anything else in my life, so I figured if I was online anyway I might as well make some use of my time. And I toyed on an off with the idea of making it private or whatever. But then I finally decided well hey, if people actually care what I am up to, I will have this thing to direct them to. Is that totally impersonal or what? ... So I made it public, but the blog itself is still rather private. I hardly have any photo's of me or my life. I don't mention my name. I rarely feature other people's names. ... What's with this? ... I think part of me wanted it to be somewhat anonymous, but why? I think I was scared a bit. If strangers stumbled upon this what would they think? How would they judge me? Then part of it was that I don't need people to know who I am. It's not necessary to me still doing what I enjoy, which is contributing to this online journaling place.
And caring what strangers think of me is silly really. I can be only me.
I have always been a confident, extroverted, outgoing person. Through the years I have moved and changed, been more cocky than I probably should, and been more timid than I really am. I have held back when I should have jumped and pushed to hard when I should have been patient. ... When you get to be older, and become more aware of being an individual, interacting with other individuals, there is this overwhelming sense of self and where I am and who I should be. And really it's not who I SHOULD be, but who I AM. And also really, it's not when you get older, I should be more correct and say, since IVE gotten older....
These thoughts, scrambled in my brain, I think come from reflecting on the past and how that has shaped me. Reflecting on where I want to be and how I am going to get there. Going back to the jumping/pushing/patient comment. As much as maybe I should have done this or that. I did what I did and am still only me. Every single left or right, up or down has been a player in this life of mine now. So really, I can only just be thankful. And so far, I am still doing ok. I probably could be doing better. And I know for certain I could most definitely be doing worse. And that is the kicker. I don't want to be wondering about doing better. I want to be all I can possibly be NOW. No wondering and wishing years and years from now. Im getting enough wrinkles as it is, my ankles now crack like I remember my mom's doing, and I swear my memory is now at 3 days tops.
I came across THIS blog about a year ago. Not sure how I ran into it, but I check in every once and awhile. I think it was her Muy Thai that drew me in at first because I was doing Muy Thai for a long time. And just to insert, still love it, and want to get back into it at some point. But anyway, I came across this post she actually wrote on March 6, 2009, titled "A Life of Gratitude". The following is an excerpt from that post. She talks about a sequence of events and how they got her to where she is now. And after you read that you can read my About Blog section, because yep, thats right, Im going to do it. Who knows, this could be the start. .....
"I was in Hainan and was journaling about the entire flow of events last year. I thought it started with muay thai cos that's how hy and I started talking, how I found my muay thai family and muay thai is also what made me eventually make the choice to come home even if I had consciously not articulated it then. But as I looked back further, it just seemed it was all meant to happen... .
If the movie 'Chocolate' hasn't come out then, I wouldn't haven watched it just before I broke up with my ex. If we hadn't broken up, I wouldn't have decided to take up muay thai. When my friend finally signed up, she did it with another friend and they happened to be the last two for a full class. If the class wasn't full, I wouldn't have had to trawl the internet for a school nearer my place. When I called and emailed them, they were in Thailand for matches and no one responded to me. Yet, when I decided to go down and take a look myself, they had just come back. Just like that, I found RTF and my 师父 and 师兄. Because of muay thai, hy and I started talking. And it was her friend who got me the writing assignments. The only regret I have is leaving my job in school cos I was happy there. But if I hadn't left that, I wouldn't have gone to a place that turned out to be unhappy and looked for muay thai. So I guess, all things were meant to be. I guess that also contributes to my feeling peaceful cos it feels good to know it has all been planned and I am fulfilling destiny. And it will all lead to good tidings and faith."
And caring what strangers think of me is silly really. I can be only me.
I have always been a confident, extroverted, outgoing person. Through the years I have moved and changed, been more cocky than I probably should, and been more timid than I really am. I have held back when I should have jumped and pushed to hard when I should have been patient. ... When you get to be older, and become more aware of being an individual, interacting with other individuals, there is this overwhelming sense of self and where I am and who I should be. And really it's not who I SHOULD be, but who I AM. And also really, it's not when you get older, I should be more correct and say, since IVE gotten older....
These thoughts, scrambled in my brain, I think come from reflecting on the past and how that has shaped me. Reflecting on where I want to be and how I am going to get there. Going back to the jumping/pushing/patient comment. As much as maybe I should have done this or that. I did what I did and am still only me. Every single left or right, up or down has been a player in this life of mine now. So really, I can only just be thankful. And so far, I am still doing ok. I probably could be doing better. And I know for certain I could most definitely be doing worse. And that is the kicker. I don't want to be wondering about doing better. I want to be all I can possibly be NOW. No wondering and wishing years and years from now. Im getting enough wrinkles as it is, my ankles now crack like I remember my mom's doing, and I swear my memory is now at 3 days tops.
I came across THIS blog about a year ago. Not sure how I ran into it, but I check in every once and awhile. I think it was her Muy Thai that drew me in at first because I was doing Muy Thai for a long time. And just to insert, still love it, and want to get back into it at some point. But anyway, I came across this post she actually wrote on March 6, 2009, titled "A Life of Gratitude". The following is an excerpt from that post. She talks about a sequence of events and how they got her to where she is now. And after you read that you can read my About Blog section, because yep, thats right, Im going to do it. Who knows, this could be the start. .....
"I was in Hainan and was journaling about the entire flow of events last year. I thought it started with muay thai cos that's how hy and I started talking, how I found my muay thai family and muay thai is also what made me eventually make the choice to come home even if I had consciously not articulated it then. But as I looked back further, it just seemed it was all meant to happen... .
If the movie 'Chocolate' hasn't come out then, I wouldn't haven watched it just before I broke up with my ex. If we hadn't broken up, I wouldn't have decided to take up muay thai. When my friend finally signed up, she did it with another friend and they happened to be the last two for a full class. If the class wasn't full, I wouldn't have had to trawl the internet for a school nearer my place. When I called and emailed them, they were in Thailand for matches and no one responded to me. Yet, when I decided to go down and take a look myself, they had just come back. Just like that, I found RTF and my 师父 and 师兄. Because of muay thai, hy and I started talking. And it was her friend who got me the writing assignments. The only regret I have is leaving my job in school cos I was happy there. But if I hadn't left that, I wouldn't have gone to a place that turned out to be unhappy and looked for muay thai. So I guess, all things were meant to be. I guess that also contributes to my feeling peaceful cos it feels good to know it has all been planned and I am fulfilling destiny. And it will all lead to good tidings and faith."
"camping"
It looked like someone had a lot of extra space on their property and decided to charge people money to park and sleep there. Well hell, its America. We can find ways to make money on anything.
The young girl's name was Princess. She was manning the ranger station, and doing a pretty good job with her bright green, blue, and pink nails. The older woman in charge of the store, her name was Angel. And was donning a baby blue sweatshirt and eye shadow, respectfully. They were both very sweet and helpful. We bent the rules a bit, and in a fully reserved campground ended up asking someone if we could crash in their spot. It ended up working out. Perfectly actually.
So, if you are ever in need of some "camping", here HERE.
cheers-
The young girl's name was Princess. She was manning the ranger station, and doing a pretty good job with her bright green, blue, and pink nails. The older woman in charge of the store, her name was Angel. And was donning a baby blue sweatshirt and eye shadow, respectfully. They were both very sweet and helpful. We bent the rules a bit, and in a fully reserved campground ended up asking someone if we could crash in their spot. It ended up working out. Perfectly actually.
So, if you are ever in need of some "camping", here HERE.
cheers-
serving
Serving, in a multiple of ways and various shapes and forms can be a humbling experience. I currently spend my time serving other people food. The fact is in America servers make their base pay from their tips. Rely on them really. So, for instance, when someone tips .80 cents they might have well just spit me in the face. A huge slobbery loogie.
So, people of America, do you not think that the people serving you food have more brain cells that could be of use, rather than asking whether you want that medium or medium rare. More skills, other experiences, they have aspirations and goals. Making sure things can be as enjoyable as possible and you choose to "reward" that service essentially, with .80 cents. Don't go out to eat if you can tip less than a dollar. A little word of advice from me to you.
But, I understand tipping has become less of a reward for good service and more an expected gesture. Which, i agree is bs. But anyway....
At work the other day, serving some old lady. And really, I mean old. As I offered her more water she paid me a compliment. "Honey, you have nice legs. I wish I had legs like that." Not sure what this means coming from an old lady, but it made me smile. So thanks old lady, and thanks mom and dad for the legs. Appreciate it.
So, people of America, do you not think that the people serving you food have more brain cells that could be of use, rather than asking whether you want that medium or medium rare. More skills, other experiences, they have aspirations and goals. Making sure things can be as enjoyable as possible and you choose to "reward" that service essentially, with .80 cents. Don't go out to eat if you can tip less than a dollar. A little word of advice from me to you.
But, I understand tipping has become less of a reward for good service and more an expected gesture. Which, i agree is bs. But anyway....
At work the other day, serving some old lady. And really, I mean old. As I offered her more water she paid me a compliment. "Honey, you have nice legs. I wish I had legs like that." Not sure what this means coming from an old lady, but it made me smile. So thanks old lady, and thanks mom and dad for the legs. Appreciate it.
being home
Visiting home, or rather, this place where I grew up, and haven't lived in 3 years, was exactly what I could have expected, only in no way could have written it better. Without getting into every single little detail believe me when I say the trip was quite perfect.
I would however love to share the many, "my gosh, that is new" moments, and "woah, that's so and so, he saw me and I didn't say hi, is that ok?" moments.
It first began on the flight. The flight from SFO to SEA is a gorgeous one. Snow peaks, and water, and green fields aplenty. I ordered a ginger ale, because that is what I have always ordered, and will continue to probably do so until airlines stop offering free beverages.
Because my music was blasting so damn loud through my headphones I faintly knew the pilot was announcing something, I just had no idea what. I believe he was saying that we were now in Washington and were about to land. I believe this is what he said because the attendant came by and tapped me on the shoulder. Damn it. But no, I thought. There was no way we were here already! I didn't recognize anything. And I didn't. But, oh there it was. the sound, and the islands, and the bridge, and my actual home, oh, and this little ol thing called mount rainier. Which, I had apparently been staring at the last 5 minutes, but didn't know it because i completely forgot what it looks like. Yeah, do you realize how shitty that felt? That I didn't remember what it looked like. I felt like a failure, a fraud, a person whose home is obviously somewhere between where she grew up and where she is now.
Kates picked me up. I told her arrivals as I was concretely standing at departures. If you ever pick up anyone from the airport and they didn't check baggage you should always pick them up from departures because its always empty. I don't know why I told her arrivals, my mind was a little off, but I get this call, "Where are you, you said there were no cars!" So, I ran, I ran through the airport, down to arrivals, traversed through 4 lanes of crowded airport traffic, that thanks to combs was behind her because if anyone knows how to get around traffic, she does. And hopped into the car, with the door barely closing behind me, and my head I think falling into Kates chest on an attempt to give her a hug. It was so good to see her.
Driving back to the Gig I knew it would be different. Since I had been gone a whole new bridge went up. I mean, an entire bridge was built. Ok, really it took 7 years to build, but it was up and running now, and I hadn't seen it since. There were things uglier, and louder, and brighter on the side of the freeway. Like the giant obnoxious billboards. One specifically which pissed me off for the Emerald Queen Casino (and no I am not linking to them, blaaaahhhhhhhh on them). This disgusting monstrosity on the side of the freeway make me want to gouge my eyes out. It's not just the billboard, but the actual building, taking over the entire other side of the freeway. I mean, really?!!!!
I have to say, some of the changes were good. The lanes are wider and smoother, and riding over the old bridge I don't know how we ever fit everyone on those 2 little lanes. That thing took a beating, and im glad it has some weight lifted off it's shoulders. The new bridge isn't as ugly or intrusive as I thought it would be either. So, glad to see, some change is good change. Also, the bay area could learn a thing or two about their toll system. and CLEARLY marked lanes etc etc. Anyway, I was impressed.
A few more things, the signs for the city I feel are bigger, and easier to read. They communicate a bit more. Kates said it's because of all the old people. Not sure that's true, but a funny explanation none the less. We now have a costco, and panera bread, and movie theatre (like a big one), and lots and lots of other shops. All places the kiddies can spend money and sit on their asses and get fat. ... No, but really, as much as I was critical, they made the areas tastefully. And although they cut down LOTS of trees, for the most part the areas are off the path, a bit hidden, and if they just keep the rest of the trees in the Harbor, Ill be ok. The day it turns into house after house after house I will run for the hills.
I love my little Gig, and Seatown, and the northwest in general. I do, I LOVE it. It is so much a part of me. In me as much as a place can be, and that will never go away.
I would however love to share the many, "my gosh, that is new" moments, and "woah, that's so and so, he saw me and I didn't say hi, is that ok?" moments.
It first began on the flight. The flight from SFO to SEA is a gorgeous one. Snow peaks, and water, and green fields aplenty. I ordered a ginger ale, because that is what I have always ordered, and will continue to probably do so until airlines stop offering free beverages.
Because my music was blasting so damn loud through my headphones I faintly knew the pilot was announcing something, I just had no idea what. I believe he was saying that we were now in Washington and were about to land. I believe this is what he said because the attendant came by and tapped me on the shoulder. Damn it. But no, I thought. There was no way we were here already! I didn't recognize anything. And I didn't. But, oh there it was. the sound, and the islands, and the bridge, and my actual home, oh, and this little ol thing called mount rainier. Which, I had apparently been staring at the last 5 minutes, but didn't know it because i completely forgot what it looks like. Yeah, do you realize how shitty that felt? That I didn't remember what it looked like. I felt like a failure, a fraud, a person whose home is obviously somewhere between where she grew up and where she is now.
Kates picked me up. I told her arrivals as I was concretely standing at departures. If you ever pick up anyone from the airport and they didn't check baggage you should always pick them up from departures because its always empty. I don't know why I told her arrivals, my mind was a little off, but I get this call, "Where are you, you said there were no cars!" So, I ran, I ran through the airport, down to arrivals, traversed through 4 lanes of crowded airport traffic, that thanks to combs was behind her because if anyone knows how to get around traffic, she does. And hopped into the car, with the door barely closing behind me, and my head I think falling into Kates chest on an attempt to give her a hug. It was so good to see her.
Driving back to the Gig I knew it would be different. Since I had been gone a whole new bridge went up. I mean, an entire bridge was built. Ok, really it took 7 years to build, but it was up and running now, and I hadn't seen it since. There were things uglier, and louder, and brighter on the side of the freeway. Like the giant obnoxious billboards. One specifically which pissed me off for the Emerald Queen Casino (and no I am not linking to them, blaaaahhhhhhhh on them). This disgusting monstrosity on the side of the freeway make me want to gouge my eyes out. It's not just the billboard, but the actual building, taking over the entire other side of the freeway. I mean, really?!!!!
I have to say, some of the changes were good. The lanes are wider and smoother, and riding over the old bridge I don't know how we ever fit everyone on those 2 little lanes. That thing took a beating, and im glad it has some weight lifted off it's shoulders. The new bridge isn't as ugly or intrusive as I thought it would be either. So, glad to see, some change is good change. Also, the bay area could learn a thing or two about their toll system. and CLEARLY marked lanes etc etc. Anyway, I was impressed.
A few more things, the signs for the city I feel are bigger, and easier to read. They communicate a bit more. Kates said it's because of all the old people. Not sure that's true, but a funny explanation none the less. We now have a costco, and panera bread, and movie theatre (like a big one), and lots and lots of other shops. All places the kiddies can spend money and sit on their asses and get fat. ... No, but really, as much as I was critical, they made the areas tastefully. And although they cut down LOTS of trees, for the most part the areas are off the path, a bit hidden, and if they just keep the rest of the trees in the Harbor, Ill be ok. The day it turns into house after house after house I will run for the hills.
I love my little Gig, and Seatown, and the northwest in general. I do, I LOVE it. It is so much a part of me. In me as much as a place can be, and that will never go away.
a summer night
There is nothing really quite like a summer night. The unmistakable warmth of shorts at 11 pm and sunsets that seem to float on forever. And they really do float. The sliver of the moon popped so so so bright tonight, and even did the black rest of it. If it's even possible for black to pop.
The vibe and energy of a summer night is unmatched by anything else. And even, like myself, you choose to take that night slowly, the feelings are all still there. The mosquitoes, and crickets, and sound of the little creek was out tonight. And although all that stuff is probably there every night, it felt particularly awesome and beautiful this night. And when will I ever call mosquitoes a beautiful thing? Probably never ever again.
There are two things I have always wanted to do here in the US. Why I haven't done them yet is annoying, so maybe this year will be the year. And really, I would like for this during one swoop of a long US road trip, but anyway, I would love to spend some of the fall on the east coast. Specifically New England. And I would love to spend some of the summer in the south. I have never really spent any time in the south, and when better to experience it than in the summer? Maybe it's this weird fascination of the American Dream in me, but what is more American besides baseball than a summer in the south? And really, to combine both of those would be awesome. ... My brothers always played little league. So, every single spring and summer was filled with Saturday's at the fields cheering them on. I don't know if this is why, but also, for as long as I remember, I have always loved watching the little league world series. I think it's something about these young athletes, playing a game they love, with their entire world ahead of them. And as a kid, what would be better than playing in the LLWS? It must be magical. Anyway, they are held in Pennsylvania every August (I think august). Maybe Ill take a little road trip this year. .. Let's face it, I know I wont. But I would love to....
And, in other news regarding America. Apparently it's just not marriage unless one party has a penis, and one party has a vagina. And apparently marriage also means that as long as both parties are of different genders, it doesn't matter how many times they get married, or divorced, than married again, because that is what real, true, blessed love is.... And this was made apparent by the ruling today by the California Supreme Court. Upholding the voter approved ban of same sex marriage. In light of this I thought I would share a little gay love. Below is a little snippet of LA Pride 08, cut to Mika's Love Today. Enjoy.
Huff Post article
Gavin Article
The vibe and energy of a summer night is unmatched by anything else. And even, like myself, you choose to take that night slowly, the feelings are all still there. The mosquitoes, and crickets, and sound of the little creek was out tonight. And although all that stuff is probably there every night, it felt particularly awesome and beautiful this night. And when will I ever call mosquitoes a beautiful thing? Probably never ever again.
There are two things I have always wanted to do here in the US. Why I haven't done them yet is annoying, so maybe this year will be the year. And really, I would like for this during one swoop of a long US road trip, but anyway, I would love to spend some of the fall on the east coast. Specifically New England. And I would love to spend some of the summer in the south. I have never really spent any time in the south, and when better to experience it than in the summer? Maybe it's this weird fascination of the American Dream in me, but what is more American besides baseball than a summer in the south? And really, to combine both of those would be awesome. ... My brothers always played little league. So, every single spring and summer was filled with Saturday's at the fields cheering them on. I don't know if this is why, but also, for as long as I remember, I have always loved watching the little league world series. I think it's something about these young athletes, playing a game they love, with their entire world ahead of them. And as a kid, what would be better than playing in the LLWS? It must be magical. Anyway, they are held in Pennsylvania every August (I think august). Maybe Ill take a little road trip this year. .. Let's face it, I know I wont. But I would love to....
And, in other news regarding America. Apparently it's just not marriage unless one party has a penis, and one party has a vagina. And apparently marriage also means that as long as both parties are of different genders, it doesn't matter how many times they get married, or divorced, than married again, because that is what real, true, blessed love is.... And this was made apparent by the ruling today by the California Supreme Court. Upholding the voter approved ban of same sex marriage. In light of this I thought I would share a little gay love. Below is a little snippet of LA Pride 08, cut to Mika's Love Today. Enjoy.
Huff Post article
Gavin Article
LA Pride, Mika - Love Today from downthe101 on Vimeo.
Ross Ching is King
Check out this video for the Death Cab For Cutie song, Little Bribes.
Nice work Ross. Nice.
Nice work Ross. Nice.
Death Cab for Cutie - Little Bribes from Ross Ching on Vimeo.
s.p.i.d.e.r.
There is a huge spider on my wall.
And at the current moment my nose is quite raw. Like rubbed and blew it so much raw.
And yep, I missed Sasquatch Fest this year. And of course I missed it bc I live in California. Regardless it will always have a huge place in my heart bc I did attend the very first one ever. This quote and photo sound like it was a good time this year.
And at the current moment my nose is quite raw. Like rubbed and blew it so much raw.
And yep, I missed Sasquatch Fest this year. And of course I missed it bc I live in California. Regardless it will always have a huge place in my heart bc I did attend the very first one ever. This quote and photo sound like it was a good time this year.
if i had 3 wishes
I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said, "This was DEFINITELY NOT one of my 3 wishes". So, I kind of got offended. Im in this place, in this world, in the same city, on the same street as this dude, and by him saying he soooo does not want to be there, it makes me feel like I am a loser for being happy I am here.
At some point this dude purchased said sticker then took the time to put it on said something. And that in itself is saying what? ..... he has the energy to do all that, but he's going to whine about what he's NOT getting? And really, I think it's about when you're little, and if you had 3 wishes what would you wish for. And getting older and realizing or seeing that what you thought you wanted as a kid, you are not getting, or are not doing, or all of this is nothing like what you thought it would be.
And really, this makes me sad. Because to think this way is only keeping you back and not moving you forward. The past is the past.
And of course, no Thurs morning would be complete w/o Disney quotables....
Adult Simba: I know what I have to do. But going back will mean facing my past. I've been running from it for so long.
[Rafiki hits Simba on the head with his stick]
Adult Simba: Ow! Jeez, what was that for?
Rafiki: It doesn't matter. It's in the past.
[laughs]
Adult Simba: Yeah, but it still hurts.
Rafiki: Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or... learn from it.
[swings his stick at Simba again who ducks out of the way]
Rafiki: Ha. You See? So what are you going to do?
Adult Simba: First, I'm gonna take your stick.
[Simba snatches Rafiki's stick and throws it and Rafiki runs to grab it]
Rafiki: No, not the stick! Hey, where you going?
Adult Simba: I'm going back!
Rafiki: Good! Go on! Get out of here!
Anyway....
At some point this dude purchased said sticker then took the time to put it on said something. And that in itself is saying what? ..... he has the energy to do all that, but he's going to whine about what he's NOT getting? And really, I think it's about when you're little, and if you had 3 wishes what would you wish for. And getting older and realizing or seeing that what you thought you wanted as a kid, you are not getting, or are not doing, or all of this is nothing like what you thought it would be.
And really, this makes me sad. Because to think this way is only keeping you back and not moving you forward. The past is the past.
And of course, no Thurs morning would be complete w/o Disney quotables....
Adult Simba: I know what I have to do. But going back will mean facing my past. I've been running from it for so long.
[Rafiki hits Simba on the head with his stick]
Adult Simba: Ow! Jeez, what was that for?
Rafiki: It doesn't matter. It's in the past.
[laughs]
Adult Simba: Yeah, but it still hurts.
Rafiki: Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or... learn from it.
[swings his stick at Simba again who ducks out of the way]
Rafiki: Ha. You See? So what are you going to do?
Adult Simba: First, I'm gonna take your stick.
[Simba snatches Rafiki's stick and throws it and Rafiki runs to grab it]
Rafiki: No, not the stick! Hey, where you going?
Adult Simba: I'm going back!
Rafiki: Good! Go on! Get out of here!
Anyway....
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