Doing Different

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2011-01-02T13:32:00.001-08:00

This time of year John works nearly non- stop- parties, parties, parties. I, on the other hand use this time of year to catch up on movie watching- and so I embarked on my pre- Oscar prep:
The Black Swan
The Fighter
True Grit.

I spent my weekend catching up on movies. Then on Sunday I met my former college roomies and one adult daughter for Tea at the Rotunda. I had experienced Tea at The Ritz (over rated) due to the ambiance. This was different - a little more restaurant-like. It was nice. I think the best High Tea had to be in London, at the Savoy. I think it was in or around 1985. I was far too young and inexperienced to understand just what I was doing - apparently my friend Jane did know. I went there in a state of total American ignorance. I may have worn jeans. Jane could barely get herself dressed. I recall her saying, "you don't understand, it's tea - at the Savoy!" clearly I didn't understand the class distinctions - to me it was, you know, eh, tea. But it WAS something. We had a white-gloved waiter who brought, you know, tea, and of course, finger sandwiches, scones, clotted cream, and tiny pastries. It was thoroughly enjoyable, and yes, an English Institution as Jane said.

This tea had the finger sandwiches and tiny pastries, but the ambiance lacked. However what the Rotunda lacked in ambiance was made up for by my college roomies. I love that through today's technology we've reconnected and stayed connected.

The week before my company's holiday break was busy, eventful and lackadaisical all at once. The atmosphere before a 10 day shut-down was akin to school kids before summer vacation - it's so close you can taste it. But as this is real life, you can't shove the books under the bed, work has to be done- it won't go away. So we worked, but we also played a bit. Our floor had a decorating contest. My side, the east side, decided on a Martha Stewart-like theme "winter wonderland". everyone pulled decorations from their homes in white and silver only. we hung snowflakes from the ceiling, made trees from silver tinsel and wrapped boxes in white paper to put under the tinsel trees (we did win - winner got bragging rights for the year). I was called for Jury Duty on 12/22 (Wednesday). I was a bit terrified I'd get called and then ruin my little summer/winter vacation. But I rolled the dice - thought process went like this: "what judge or lawyer in his or her right mind wants to start a trial just before x-mas? the jury would be ornery & cranky and most will want to be excused due to vacation plans". Well, clearly my thinking was correct. at 11 a.m. on 12/22, I called in for the second time and was RELEASED! "free at last, free at last".
Thursday began my vacation. I did just the tiniest bit of last minute shopping and rode my bike around town running last minute errands. Friday was Crab Dinner at mom's. Sadly my brother and family couldn't make it up, but we had a great time nonetheless. Of course no family gathering is complete without some family drama. My step-brother (he who shall not be named), pulled a fast one on his daughter and kept jerking her around throughout the day to the point where at 4 pm. she called him an ass and came to our little gathering. My 12 year old cousin put it aptly later that night when she said, "she's got 'lady balls'". Yep - she sure did!

Saturday John and I drove down to Santa Barbara to visit our dear friends. It was quite the long drive (5.5 hrs) and we did it in a soft-top in driving rain. I prayed that the roof wouldn't leak as it tends to do and thankfully it held up. We had a traditional Jewish Christmas with my Chinese friend and went to a Chinese restaurant. It was packed (I guess there are Jews in SB).

Sunday we awoke to some sunshine. We headed to State Street for breakfast and a little window shopping. This was my first 12/26 where I didn't work and didn't shop. Now that was different!

On Monday we went for a sloppy, and muddy hike out to the bluff above the beach. Afterward we played golf. Yep, I played real golf on a 9 hole course for the first time in my life. And get this, on one of the hardest parts of the course, the 5th hole, I got on the green in 1 shot!!!! I shot one over par on the hole. I won't mention my score the rest of the time, but suffice it to say that I did not lose a single ball!!

Tuesday we got up and started our drive back up the coast. I had never been to Cambria, a small artist community just south of San Simeon, so we headed West on highway 46 past about 15 different central valley wineries. The town was adorable and packed! We ate at Linn's and had one of The Best chicken pot pies - every. (the secret was in the flaky crust). I thought to myself after, why drive back 25 miles on 46, why not just head north on 1? So we did. It started out fun, driving past Hearst Castle and then to where the Elephant Seals were resting on the beach - then we hit the windy part; and then it started to rain; and then the road narrowed to one lane in two directions; and then I was ready to gouge my eyeballs out. We had left Santa Barbara at 10 a.m. and we got in the house at 8 p.m.---exhausted.

Wednesday we recuperated, but spent the evening with Lance and Chris for Game Night (I'm sensing a new 2011 activity). We played the Survivor Box game. I wound my way around the board first and got immunity. At that point we had Tribal Council and had to vote a member off. Let's just say that "You Bitches" became the phrase of the night after we unanimously voted Chris off the island.

Thursday John and I drove to Marin to celebrate Klaus' 77th birthday at the Dipsea Cafe before heading up to Reno to the Grand Sierra Resort for John's New Year's Eve gig with David Martin's House Party for 1800 guests (a sold out show!). Driving up was easy - it took the four hours I anticipated and we settled in - then hit the "stuffet" (pronounced stuff-fay). I had all you can eat crab and shrimp. I tried to be healthy, but then the fried chicken and mashed potatoes and soft serve "dessert" (cause it sure wasn't ice-cream), called to me. I had to eat it.

Friday John and I wanted to play mini-golf, but it didn't open until after noon and it was outside (and freezing - literally freezing). We went to the kid's arcade and played air hockey. John won - again. Then we went to the golf area and played a video golf where you use real clubs, a real ball and you whack the ball at the screen. There are sensors (lasers) that judge where the ball went (direction/speed) and you can play any number of courses. We only made 9 holes - I won one hold (1 over par!), and John won the rest.

John's gig turned out to be pretty fun. David pulled me up on stage and I danced behind John for a minute or so before he realized I was bumping and grinding behind him. Of course the best part of the night came when David introduced the band and John was introduced as "Wendy Winter's husband: John Mader!"

I found that to be a fitting end to a great year. And now onto something completely different...
A New Blog.

Company (wo)Man

2010-12-31T19:19:00.001-08:00

Our holiday party was held at the Palace Hotel, just across the street from work. I have to give props to the planning committee this year, for they planned a great after work event. Previously they held it at the same place, but always on a Saturday night. So you had to decide- give up a weekend night to be at a work function, or bail altogether. Normally, I bailed. So this was the first work social (big) company event I attended. After nearly three years I also knew a few people which made it much more enjoyable. The food was terrific and I managed to do a little networking.

They also very generously set up a photo booth for mementos - fun. I also learned from a previous work "social" that they really aren't--social, that is. These are work functions- period. I recalled the time many moons ago when a colleague drank and drank and drank, and as she was sitting at the bar a nice gentleman sat next to her and asked her what she did for the company. She nicely replied and then she asked him his name. He kindly replied and then she smacked him on the arm, "get out! You are not!"
He smiled and retorted, yes, I am.
You are not! She smacked him again.
Now, a little less amused, I am.
"nuh uh, he's the CFO!"
He smiled.

And with that story I always remember- and have just one drink.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Par-Tay

2010-12-27T21:44:00.000-08:00

That Sunday after getting home from LA I had to quickly make cookies for the two Christmas parties we were invited to (on the same day). I got to work looking up a recipe online and grabbed the Molasses, ginger, sugar, flour to quickly whip up some soft ginger cookies.

The first stop, our neighbor Rick and Thierry's house. They are our neighbors on the corner in a fabulous old shingled house. Their front "parlor" could easily hold 100 people and so every year they host a caroling party. I must have timed it right 'cause we missed the carrolling. not that I have anything against it, I just can't sing. So we ate a tad and imbibed a bit and then when the time was right, we quietly left to head out to the next party at Lance and Chris's.

We love L&C and their two dogs (both Westies) and they always throw a lovely party with great friends. We were lucky to enjoy their company and the company of their very nice friends. Lance's good friend happens to have a consulting business writing on-line training manuals, so he and john started noodling about how they were going to get John's on-line teaching business growing. Aside from the good friends, and good food, John also benefited from good ideas.

That week was the last full week before my holiday shut-down. Texas came back into town and we ended up grabbing dinner that Tuesday night. I remember it being a particularly bad day at work. I had a sales guy write me an email (after I had answered his question) that he had a suggestion for improving my communication. I nearly lost it. After reading the email I immediately picked up the phone and gave him a call. He continued to insist that I wasn't answering his question. In order to protect the stupid, I'm going to paraphrase the conversation.
Email: Can you tell me why product a is more expensive than product b?
Reply: Dear recipient's name, there is no rule that states that product a should always be less than product b. as a matter of fact, because of the "laws" of supply and demand, there are times where product a would be more expensive than b. Here are past examples of when a was more than b: (blah, blah, blah).
Email: in an effort to help you more effectively communicate to customers, your curt responses are not helpful. The customer feels that you are often more expensive and you haven't explained why he should pay for blah blah blah when blah blah blah....
Phone Call: Bob (not real name), I'd like to talk to you about your email.
Bob: yes, you didn't answer the question
Phone: the question asked why a was more than b.
Bob: that's not what the customer wants to know
Phone: with all due respect, the email asks why a is more than b
Bob: that's not what the customer is asking
Phone: Bob, let me read you the question< 'why is a more than b?"
Bob: yes, but that's not what the customer wants to know
Phone: Bob, again, with all due respect, my fucking spidey sense doesn't work like that... tell me the fucking question and I'll answer it.
Well - it didn't go exactly like that. Actually at about the time that I was about to toss out F-bombs, the line went dead as Bob was driving in the middle of the dessert. Good thing too. My VP was listening and a little surprised that I was having this challenging conversation. By 5 p.m. she TOLD Texas to take me out for a drink. I think that conversation went like this:
VP: Texas, you guys are having dinner tonight, right?
Texas: of course
VP: great. Take her out for a drink. Now.
Texas: okay
VP: Now. Ok. Now.

Texas took me (and my boss) over to Belden Lane, I drank and all was right with the world.

Thankfully the next day I got an email from Bob telling me that I was right, the customer had not asked the question he was insisting I didn't answer. And with that, I let out a big sigh.

Wednesday night John played a gig with Mike Zilber at Coda in SF. They played Wayne Shorter's music (Weather Report). Prior to Coda I went to have cocktails with two colleagues at Ducca where I had a fancy Lemony-cinnamon-y cocktail and then headed over to the gig. I had never seen Coda so jam-packed with people. Sadly, just after that gig I found out that this NY Eve would be their last night. Another victim of the down economy. I spent the evening in the company of my neighbor Todd and some other acquaintances enjoying beautiful music.

LA

2010-12-20T21:00:00.000-08:00

Thursday the 9th John and I went to hear a Cuban band at Yoshi's - Los Van Van. They were supposed to have been here months ago, but there were visa issues, and so they were delayed. Tickets weren't cheap at $40 a piece, but this was pretty much a once in a lifetime opportunity. They hadn't been to the US in more than 10 years and with the likelihood of Republicans taking the majority again in two years we had to jump on this opportunity. There were 15 (ish) members of the band on the stage at Yoshi's (no small feat). They rocked a sold-out crowd. We had reserved seats upstairs, but the dance floor was packed with people just shuffling to the beat to full-blown salsa dancers. The house was a rockin'.

Friday I headed out to the Oakland airport to meet my friend Michael. We were going to fly down to Burbank together. My plan for the weekend was to spend time with M & his partner Joe. I was getting a little nervous at the airport waiting for M to show up. I texted, "I'm here. You?" He texted back, "at gate 30"; "me too!" I searched around until I spied a giant beard. this was no Brian Wilson beard - this was Santa-like only perhaps a bit grander.
Oh-My-God!
It's glorious, someone told me today.
Glorious?
Well, we'd have to agree to disagree at least until I could get used to it.

The weekend was a whirl. We arrived at his home where his killer dog, Bento, finally decided that he didn't need to eat me (at least not right away). thankfully M had been away for a few days and Bento was starved for M's affection. I must have been the recipient of a little loneliness because after two days, he licked me and I don't think it was because he was testing to see if I was done. I think he actually liked me.

M & I went to an outdoor mall where we shopped for holiday gifts. I also had my LA star sighting, Andre Royo, "Bubbs" from The Wire. I was tempted to follow (stalk?) him through the mall until M said, "he's just another guy shopping in the mall". Okay, fair enough, but if he had seen Walt Disney, he would have behaved differently (you reading this M?).

That night we went to Musso and Franks, an old, old, old school restaurant in Hollywood before going to a special showing of "Tangled" (Disney) across from the Kodak theater. When we exited the theater, Hollywood Blvd was shut down (on this block) and the "Blue carpet" was being laid down for the premiere of "Tron" the next night with Jeff Bridges and Jeff Bridges. We headed over to Grauman's to look at the foot prints in cement and then headed home.

Saturday we grabbed breakfast and then went to Pasadena to the Huntington Library where we could see "Pinky" and "Blue Boy" and the fabulous gardens that surrounded this estate.

Our trip was cut short because we had more to see that afternoon with a private tour of the Gamble house,

an original Craftsman designed by Greene & Greene architects. by the evening I was exhausted and made them promise we could stay in and watch old movies. We watched "White Christmas" and then "Elf".

Sunday a.m. we grabbed pastries at one of the most famous bakeries in LA (name escapes me) and then I hopped the plane back home. Phew - they wrecked me, but I had a GREAT time.

Rounding the Bend

2010-12-12T15:40:00.001-08:00

As a year comes to a close, I confess this exercise in doing different 365 turned into Doing Different 182.5 - I managed to do a lot of different things throughout the year, more than any year before, but hitting that "different" thing every day became a chore after the first two months. I began petering out in the middle of March and by the spring I was resigned that I would never make my goal. Michael told me it felt a bit like "eating different" and sure, there was a lot of that. I admit that to really "do different" every day for a year, I would have had to spend a lot of time planning, contacting people, and putting a lot of effort forth. It's why Julie (of Julie and Julia) is was in her 20s and so are many of the other bloggers who attempt to stir up interest in their adventures. This stuff takes work and dedication.

Post Thanksgiving, I really just wanted to relax - I knew I was going to go to Napa with mom and had plans for the night prior.

Friday, "the gang" had tickets for a local Rotary event. It was a little fundraiser at a funky location (a car repair place, where they didn't really repair cars there, but they rented the space out to non-profits). We went for cocktails and hors d'hoeuvres where I met a really interesting man - he was CEO of a non-profit that directed funds and doctors and nurses to care for people in Kenya. I thought a lot about my former best friend Amy who would have been all over this guy, but I was also excited to pull Kate out and introduce her to Dr Peter (?) because Kate loves wild and weird places. This would suit her perfectly. After the snacks, we went next door to see a marionette show of Cinderella. It was interesting - well done, and of course, seasonally very festive.

Post Marionettes, we ventured outside to the Art Crawl. I thought it was one of the coolest, hippest events I had been to in a really long time. I felt like I was in New Orleans, or New York. The air had a chill (it wasn't freezing), and people were out, all over the street in different venues, looking at art, drinking, chatting - everyone was friendly and cool. There wasn't a single point in the night where we were walking around the streets where it ever felt dangerous. Frankly, I'm happy to have the moniker of the 8th most deadly city in the US, it keeps the rif-raf away.

Saturday I drove up to Napa and mom and I met at the outlets and shopped. and shopped. and shopped. then we lunched in downtown napa and then we shopped. Unfortunately, a cold starting coming on hard 'n fast and by dinner, I could barely breath. Which was a bit unfortunate - we had reservations at Ubuntu. This is one the Chron's top 100.

Ok - so here's the dining different part - This is a 1 Michelin star restaurant and I honest can't tell you what we ate. So here are four of the $15 each small plates we tried - more or less:

an ubuntu steam bun stuffed w/ burrata and coated with SUNCHOKE dirt

SUNCHOKE tostones, roasted and raw ‘fuyu’ persimmon, smoked GREEN TOMATO

QUINCE soffrito, fermented APPLE, ‘sheep’s’ SORREL, raw ‘purple haze’ CARROTS

goat’s milk ricotta, chanterelle and GREEN TOMATO chow-chow

Yes, the flavors were interesting, but if you walk out of a restaurant and can't describe what you eat, they have done something wrong. Also, for the price, we should have been at least "sated" for $100. That included only one glass of wine and no dessert... so there you have it.

By Sunday, I was wiped out and could barely muster the energy to shop, but we went for an hour and after that it was home, to bed. I was so bad on Monday, that for the first time in years, and I mean, YEARS, I called in sick and pretty much worked most of the day from home. That said, I was able to rest a bit and get in a good 2 1/2 hour nap. That helped so that by Tuesday, I was well enough to return to work. I needed to rest up for the weekend ahead - a weekend chalk full of stuff in ... LA!

A week (and a half) in review

2010-12-08T20:15:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving was a mellow day. We went to Starbucks and got a treat - that would be a salted caramel hot chocolate with whipped cream for John and a minty mocha do-dah for me. We headed to mom's for dinner - we were only 6 for this festive eve: me, John, Klaus, mom and their tenants, Michael and Catherine. I had met the tenants once before and they seemed nice enough. He got drunk and she was quiet and demure. My first impression was indeed correct, he's a drunk and she's quiet and demure. It's not that he's a bad guy, it's just that he drinks- a lot, and then he drinks more and then he's just a loud, drunk, know-it-all. But other than that Mrs Lincoln, the play was fine.

Friday morning I awoke early and pondered, whether to venture out for the 5 a.m. bargains. I thought about it, and then swiftly rejected the thought, pulling the covers over my head. I did have to get up at a reasonable hour as I had a brief conference call at 9 a.m. At 8:15 I decided to see what the crowds were like. Most of my friends and family think that this is my favorite shopping day - au contraire! My favorite shopping day is the day after Christmas - the day when the stores desperately try to lure customers back, knowing that it will be a long, cold winter with only the sound crickets chirping on the escalators until spring apparel arrives with a bit of sunshine. That said, I wanted to get out and check out the scene. I tried to park in the lot for Best Buy but aborted after a once-around the lot. Then I drove across the way to (sound effects here: duh duh duh!) Toys R Us! Yes! Toys R Us on the day after Thanksgiving. The same Toys R Us that opened at either 10 p.m. or midnight of Thanksgiving. I walked in and I heard a familiar sound, but not a sound a Christmas, no, it was the sound of post-Christmas, the sound of crickets chirping. The store was empty! I breezed through and picked up this 'n that for my nephews. I had four, yep, four sales associates try to help me and I stood behind one woman if that's what you call a line. I was in and out with my gifts in a few minutes. Now THAT was different.

That afternoon I decided to try making a new dessert - inspired by the hot chocolate from the day prior. I made a salted caramel pudding - from scratch! This was no boxed pudding. This was the real deal. We planned to have our friend David and his wife Yofi and Charlotte and Pee Wee Ellis. Pee Wee is a legend in the music business. He wrote something like 26 of James Brown's hits, was in his band, was musical director for Van Morrison and has played with just about everyone but Jesus. Pee Wee and Charlotte became friends after John toured with Pee Wee and Fred Westley as part of the JB Horns tour.

Post Thanksgiving I decided to stay away from Fowl, so I made a cioppino , some Turkey-shaped bread I bought at Boudin's, a salad with fuyu persimmons and pomegranate seeds and then... the pudding served in individual tea cups (spectacular). Yes, sigh, dinner was a hit, especially the pudding. I was pleased with myself.

Saturday I went for a ride with Dale on my trusty steed Petunia. That night, John would play with Pee Wee and our friend Fred Ross at Harry Denton's Starlight room. I got all dolled up and headed into SF by myself. I knew I'd know people there. As I stepped out of the elevator, Charlotte saw me and ran to the door man. At first I was directed to stand in line, but after a few whispers, I was yanked out of the line and into the room - Phew! I admit it, I've become spoiled. I just don't "do" lines (unless forced to). Thankfully I was saved.

It was this night where I discovered the 60-40 rule. Men in their 60's like to dance with women in their 40's. I can't imagine that there will be a 70/50 rule - more to come on that. At one point during the evening, while dancing with a short, older, Italian man, Charlotte looked my way, mouthing to me over the band, "are you alright?" She had a slightly concerned expression on her face. "I'm fine" I mouthed back - knowing full well that John's aim with a drumstick was deadly and all I needed was a nod in his direction. Hey - at least the 60 year olds think I'm hot...

Gobble Gobble

2010-11-29T20:01:00.000-08:00

Sunday the 21st, after book club, John and I had dinner with our friends Lance and Chris and their good friends Steve and Jen. You never really know what to expect when new people enter the equation - you generally end up liking one or the other, and rarely both. This must have been a rare instance because we all got on splendidly. During dinner we found out that Jen had been the personal assistant to Hunter S. Thompson in Colorado for many years. Yes - there were stories...

Jen turned out to be intelligent, charming and incredibly witty. There are moments which tend to stand out and there was one in particular that night. As Lance was telling the sad tale of a friend of ours who had spiraled out of control with drugs and mental illness, the line of the night came from Jen. The story, albeit brief goes like this:
Sandy (not his real name) moved back home to Sonora (not really, but a Sonora-like place) with his wife and kid so that they could purchase a big home and raise the kid in a rural setting. Things went awry after he was caught having an affair with one of his students (college) and post-divorce, drug use ensued. He was teaching a young, teen student music lessons and noticed some valuable instruments in the home. The student's family went out of town and during that period, the instruments disappeared. Sandy was pulled over for driving erratically and caught with - this is the line per Jen, "guitar residue under his nose" (Insert uproarious laughter here - okay, well, maybe you had to be there). Actually, Sandy was caught with an instrument and a crack pipe, and other paraphernalia, and the rest of the instruments were found, and eventually returned. Sadly, Sandy was found guilty and now his life is in ruins. That- is not so funny.

We left our merry band of friends and headed home in order to get ready for the upcoming short week. Much to do to prepare for the feast - shopping and cooking. My role for this Turkey Day was to make an appetizer and veggie. I settled on my favorite, the Brussel sprout with brown butter, Parmesan and capers. Only one problem - limited Parmesan and no capers... oh well, brown butter makes everything taste good. Luckily I had my trusty hubby to do the shopping on Wednesday a.m. My appetizer was a hacked together recipe for warm crab and artichoke dip. We got king crab legs, for some reason, the dungeness were out at Safeway. Those king crabs are prickly little buggers and I jabbed my thumb with one of the spikes on their shell - Ugh! But the dip was a tasty success and I even had enough left over for our dinner party on Friday night!. After cooking for an hour or two, John and I walked down the street to see Megamind, a new animated movie. John paid $10 for a good nap, but I enjoyed it - cute little movie and not a big crowd. I love the holidays, where you get out of work a little early, people are off doing so many other things that you're either deep in the crowd or nearly alone. This was the latter and it definitely improved the movie-going experience.

Catching up (part deux)

2010-11-25T12:06:00.000-08:00

Monday, the 15th was a gloriously warm day. I could hardly contain my excitement at walking in SF on a mid-November day in a t shirt and skirt (no stockings!). The week started out slow, not too much new until Wednesday when Texarkana came to town. This isn't my friend, Texas, who lost the bet regarding the Giants and the Rangers, this is another colleague who also happens to be from Texas, is also a Tea-bagger and claims Obama is a communist (sigh). I had invited Texarkana to join me and two other colleagues for dinner. Picking a place to eat was may early week challenge.
me: what do you like to eat
him: chicken fried steak

This would be a challenge. Chicken fried steak is akin to fascism or tea bagging in San Francisco. You won't find it. That said, upon doing a little open table research, I did find Town Hall, a venerable SF restaurant, with upscale comfort food. You can find a pork chop or a steak on the menu, just prepared a tad different Texarkana chose the wine, "fisticuffs" (for real - check the link). There were a couple of issues we were dealing with: 1) business - the them vs us (field vs home office) and 2) red state vs blue state. The wine was a perfect fit. It was delicious. Thankfully all went well. Our business discussion was productive and we helped educate Texarkana such that he left feeling more knowledgeable and more attuned to our goals (those which pay him in his US greenbacks). Of course no evening would be complete without at least one political dig and at the end of the evening the gloves came off and he did start in on Obama. I did my best to stay true to myself without throwing myself across the table to throttle him when the "C-word" came out (communist).

Thursday night I took dear Dale to see Cavalia for her milestone 60th birthday. We ate at Momo's first. I had a french onion soup and crab louie and honestly, I was too engrossed in my cheese to even notice what she ordered. Cavalia was amazing! We marveled at how happy the horses were - not an ear turned back. The gymnastics paled to what the horses could do. I loved how the trainer could get the horses to line up and rest their heads on each others backs with what must have been the most subtle of all cues. This was in fact one of the best shows ever for its performance, relevance and beauty. It wasn't cheap, but it was worth every penny. The vision of the Lusitanos resting together will forever be burned in my memory.

By Friday, fall had arrived. The temperature had dropped to the normal high 50's / low 60s. The morning air had the fall chill and the light had changed. There was "that smell" indicating the season had changed - no more Indian summer. And by Saturday, the sky opened up and dumped. I was driving about 15 miles to Neo's house where he was hosting about 45 people (in his 2-bdr bungalow) for a food-sharing and wine tasting dinner. I was sadly solo once again. But as this was my second event at Neop's at least I had met a couple of the folks before. I wished that John could have been there. We were all sharing our recipes and admiring each others unusual dishes. There was one: Israeli couscous with mint, pine nuts, lemon and ... not sure, but delicious. Someone else made polenta toasts with wild mushrooms. I had felt inspired earlier in the day and pumped out two different fall cupcakes: persimmon eggnog with a salted caramel butter cream and then a pumpkin cupcake with a tangerine/ginger cream cheese frosting. I met a former baker who very graciously told me that even though he was a baker, he resents baking now, however my cupcakes were an exception and he thought that they were fantastic. He ever so gently broached that they could be commercial - I shuddered, "been there, done that."

Sunday afternoon I was preparing to head over to Charla's for book club. I headed up the hill to pick up Sue. Through the turned-up volume of the radio I heard a chunka-chunka sound. I slowly turned around and as I was doing so, a car pulled up along side of me, "you have a flat tire." UGH. Well, a few months ago the BMW guys told me I needed new tires, I guess this was a sign - an expensive sign, and an unfortunate sign during a short, holiday week. Sue picked me up as I was marveling at the flatness of my tire. I don't think it could have been more flat. Book club provided a lively conversation and we agreed on two new books for our next meeting: Just Kids by Patti Smith and the The Glass Castle: A Memoir by Jeannette Walls - date tbd. Getting 6-8 women together on the same date has proved to be a challenge, however I discovered a tool, called Meeting Wizard which allows you to pick a bunch of dates and have your attendees select their available dates. It saves all of the back and forth, excuses, reasons, etc for who and why people aren't available. If only everyone would use it...

playing catch up

2010-11-21T21:01:00.000-08:00

yikes. Where did the time go. We're rounding the bend, nearing the end of a jam-packed year and frankly, I've lost steam. I keeping doing a little different, but finding it hard to keep up. The night after I had dinner Texas, Sarah and I got together for dinner at the Melting Pot in Larkspur. I was thwarted on my way over by some horrific traffic. I landed, at the landing, about 15 minutes late. I was certain that I would arrive on time, getting out of work a few minutes early. Sarah and I had salads and then shared an anemic artichoke and cheese fondu. Anemic as there was hardly a ramekin of artichoke hearts stirred in. That's not to say that it wasn't cheesy-good, but it wasn't exactly an artichoke fondu.

On Thursday, Veteran's Day, I raced home from work to make two-dozen cupcakes for a work pot-luck. I was under tremendous pressure to produce. One of my colleagues had become known for her baked good after having finished baking school at Tante Marie's. Charlotte's pasteries are world-class, delicious and gorgeous. Her standards were high and I had to be creative. I decided to use the persimmons from our tree. Remembering the creativity of the cooks on Cupcake Wars, I started scouring the cupboards for interesting ingredients. I used ground clove, ground anise, ground in a little orange tea, plus the usual "pumpkin-pie" spices: nutmeg, cinnamon, and ginger. I made a caramel and worked that into a butter cream frosting to put on top.

During the pot luck, Charlotte came over to me and raved about the cupcake telling me I should be very proud of myself. She LOVED the frosting, thought it was fantastic and thought the flavor was really good - interesting flavors. I love the creativity. I was inspired.

On Saturday, I hooked up in Marin with my junior high school best friend Joanna. We met for lunch at the Cheesecake Factory in Corte Madera. There was something about getting together with my friend in Marin, where I just felt I needed a glass of wine. I was surrounded by kids and dogs, and Juicy Couture. Marin is just not the place it was when I grew up. Money, money money - everyone had money, but today people show it. My dad started the trend. Jo and I had a great time. We've surpassed the "getting back in touch" stage and moved into a new, natural stage of our friendship, where we're not just catching up on the last decade, but where we're catching up on just the last month or so. After lunch we wandered around the mall. Dogs and babies surrounded us. Before I knew it it was 4 p.m. and I was late to get home. I told John I'd be home in time to go out with him that night. My friend Shannon was coming into town from the tri-cities area of Washington state, Kennewick.

Upon her arrival and after a few minutes of hugging and ooing and awing over our newly renovated yard, we walked down to Sidebar restaurant. Shannon was just happy to be eating at some place other than a chain like, say, Cheesecake Factory or Red Robbin.

I was telling Shannon the story of how I was outed as a liberal when I was in Birmingham and our bartender came over and was fascinated by the story. "I love this!" He wanted to hear more. When, but in CA, can you tell the story of being outed as a liberal and a waiter has to hover like he's in your dinner party? It was entertaining. Our waiter was originally from the mid-west and found it oppressive and too conservative (no surprise) and ended up on this end of the world. For the rest of the evening, he was our new friend.

Sunday was a beautiful day. The sky was bright blue and the temperature was going to be in the 80s. I don't care if it's global warming, global weirding, or just California sunshine - the weather was fabulous. We rode our bikes down to Beer Revolution. I love the owner, Rebecca. She's super cool - tatted up, dark hair, super friendly: I know you! I've seen you here before, she hollered at me as I stood in line. John and I decided on a flight of 6 different beers for $15 bucks. We sat out on the deck and sipped at our offerings. I fell in love, and I mean love with the Chocolate Pilsner - I had to let everyone at our table try it (nope - didn't know them) and they all loved it too - not bitter, not sweet, just delicious. For some reason I seemed to have a magnet on for funny people (not ha ha) and this guy sort of glommed onto us. He was okay, except he kept drinking and kept talking and finally, I hit my yakker max and let John know it was time for us to hit the road. But that was not before John had run around the corner to get a fried oyster po-boy with some sweet potato fries. Yum!

After lunch we hopped on our bikes and made our way home. I was H-O-T and we were now late for dinner at Kirsten and John's house. We had to quickly shower, shave and shine and hit the road for another social event (Damn - we were busy!).

Gloating Glory

2010-11-14T10:12:00.000-08:00

The work week came and I had to prepare for a visit from my TX colleague, the one I had the bet with during the World Series. I had created a virtual shrine on the exterior cube walls, so as he entered our floor, the first thing he'd see was the homage (if you will) to the World Champion Giants! The VP of my group, also a Giants fan, told me to decorate away, go crazy, decorate my door too! I was inspired. I gathered as much propaganda as I could - pages from the daily papers with images of people in the streets, hugs, cheers, and of course, pennants and orange pom poms - anything and everything went on the cube walls so that when Texas entered the building, he'd feel some Giant love.

Texas entered on Tuesday and said, "I expected more" (insert cartoon sound here - wah wah). Then he totally poured water on the whole thing by saying, "you know, I probably go to more Giants games each year than Rangers. I actually like the Giants".
Me: big sigh.
Oh well, it was fun, and my shrine still lives a week later.

Dinner that night with Texas was terrific. We went to Le Colonial in SF. A year or so ago we had eaten there and although we had a gentleman's agreement that we would eat at different places each time he came out, he just had a hankerin' for French/Vietnamese food. We shared the following: Mien Xao Cua - Stir fried glass noodles with Dungeness crab, Laughing Bird shrimp,
egg and scallions, an order of Xu Bruxelles: Pan fried Brussels sprouts, Portobello mushrooms and crispy shallots with a sweet chili sauce, and an order of Vit Ngu Vi Huong: Seared 5-spice Pekin duck breast, with crispy Brussels sprouts and tamarind ginger sauce.

Texas and I couldn't stop saying, "Oh. My. God. This is SO good", as we were each telling tales the other would interrupt with that statement. We kept laughing over the deliciousness of the meal. It was just crazy good - and Texas doesn't love the sprout!

I had wanted to bring the leftovers home to John for his dinner. I mean, there's always something left over - but not tonight - nary a sprout was left on the plate. Poor John. After I got home we sat down together to watch a little t.v. He came into the living room with a plate of something. "what's that?", "something from the freezer." "oh, I'm so sorry. I really wanted to bring something back for you, but, well, it was just, SO good." Oh well, next time.

pot Luck

2010-11-14T10:00:00.000-08:00

The sky opened up on Sunday and with that an idea emerged: Pixar exhibit at the newly renovated Oakland Museum of Art. After a hearty breakfast we drove down to Oak street. there was anything but a light rain and after we zipped up our rain jackets, we emerged street level to find a line down Oak and around the block. People were huddled under umbrellas (we didn't have one), waiting for the museum to open.

Apparently I had tapped into the collective consciousness of all of Oakland - this was clearly the place to be on a dreary Sunday. We assessed the line, felt our legs getting cold and wet and unanimously aborted. Next stop: Lucky's.

John said we were "going ghetto" - not exactly - but Lucky's isn't Safeway, nor is it Trader Joe's and it certainly isn't Whole Foods/paycheck. That said, this is probably the nicest Lucky's around. We needed to bring an appetizer to Kaya's for a pot-luck. This crowd is probably the most low-key, down-to-earth group of people I know (and love). Nothing snotty here - just plain 'ol good people. Now... what to bring. I reached deep into my early childhood memories, certainly not upscale as we were growing up (early in my youth), and I remember: weenies wrapped in Pillsbury dough (with ketchup and mustard). Yum. Then I thought, fried shrimp - well, I was kind of thinking catfish, but catfish can be challenging, so shrimp it was. I was also thinking, "rain, cold, football... fish 'n chips!" As we were waiting in line, an older black dude was pondering the same, "I really want fish 'n chips today - give me some catfish!"

Um, wow, was my brain truly in sync with the rest of Oakland? How random was that? So we started chatting him up and sure 'nuf - football and fried fish. We settled on cod and home we went.

I made a beer batter and plunked those bad boys in the vat of hot oil - YUM. I made a home made cocktail sauce (that was new too) and yum-me!

That evening we schlepped our Fry Daddy and a pound of shrimp over to Kaya's and chowed down on those little weenies and fried shrimp. Good times.

Now that was different

2010-11-11T01:43:00.000-08:00

I walked to my car in the MacArthur BART parking lot after a long week of work on Friday. I turned the key in the ignition and the lights on the dash started going crazy. There was barely a whrrrr of the engine. "CRAP". I tried again, and again.
Nothing.

AAA arrived within 15 minutes and jumped started the car - ah! just the battery. I drove to Tiburon and stopped at the super market before going to Diana and Harvey's for a Paella dinner. I got to my car and ...
Nothing.

Rather than calling AAA I flagged down a guy in a giant truck. After a few tries (apparently maneuvering a Jumbo truck in a near empty parking lot requires a certain skill) , he got his truck close enough to my car to give me a jump.

After dinner at Diana and Harvey's (a fun event attended by former High School classmates, none of whom I'd ever met in my life), my cousin Rebecca's husband Joe jumped me. This provided hours of humor for the whole family - my car battery is in the back of the car - therefore requiring that I get jumped from behind. Joe giggled endlessly.

We got to George's in San Rafael - now the new, New George's, without the "New" to see John play with American Drag.

Then Harvey jumped me from behind.

In the morning, Saturday, Dale picked me up so we could ride (horses). That afternoon, Dale jumped me - from behind.

I made it to the gas station to get the new battery and learned that my "cost per wear" was equivalent to making money on the battery. I couldn't recall ever getting a new battery in the 10 years I've had the car - apparently the life-span of a batter is 3-5 years. I definitely came out ahead on this deal. Plus - I am now an expert on jump starting a car - front, or back.

Giant Monday

2010-11-07T10:06:00.001-08:00

Most of us at work could hardly contain our excitement on Monday. Even our VP said, "go home early to watch the game", so I caught an earlier bus home. Of course by this point my TX pal stopped texting. At the 7th inning, when Renteria slammed in that 3 run hommer I couldn't help but send a text - the silence was deafening. At the end of the game John and I jumped up and down and screamed so loud the cats nearly tore a hole in the couch trying to run away from the insanity. We were ecstatic - unable to contain our joy.

Tuesday I pinged TX - "no congratulations?"
"They didn't play well. It was like a little league game"
"sour grapes"

Wednesday I got into the city at 8 a.m. Our building sits on the corner of Montgomery and Market, right along the parade route. I had never been to a parade before - not like this - not when the Niners won a super bowl - Never. This was going to be a great day. The energy of the fans coursed through the city as a dense crowd had already gathered.

I pinged TX again,
"surprised I haven't heard from you"
"I'd rather re-take Congress than win a World Series any day"
"Can't hear you over the noise of the parade"
"you're a bad liar. the parade doesn't start for two hours"
"the crowd gathered early. Gotta go. You're distracting me from my joy"

My 10 a.m. meeting ended quickly and my colleagues and I had blocked out time for a "meeting" from 11 - 1. At 10:30 we were already suffering from " fear of missing out" syndrome, so we hopped the elevator down the 28 flights. The crowd must have been 50 deep and I'm just not good in crowds. Thankfully our lobby is slightly elevated - in fact, just enough for me to stand safely inside and just above everyone's heads. As the parade passed I could see the faces of the players. Although being inside made me feel insulated, I still enjoyed the event, especially as Bochy rode by holding up the World Series Trophy. Fifty years in the making and finally a World Series trophy.

As the parade passed I went outside. The crowd lessened and I could still feel the joyous energy. Black and orange ticker tape covered the streets like a fine dusting of snow. I stood outside for about 10 minutes just enjoying the buzz of the crowd. By 5:30 as I headed home, the streets were still filled with people in their Giant's gear. This must be what it's like to live in NYC when the Yankees win - everyone in their garb - all part of the same tribe. We were all one that day - all Giant's fans united in our love for the city, the game, the players and the team.

Rainy Day

2010-11-03T23:49:00.001-07:00

It was a good day to come down with a cold, if ever there's a good time to get sick. It had rained the night before and the rain Gods weren't ready to depart our fair city just yet - besides, it was time for another baseball game.

I ran up to the barn and spent quality time with Miss Petunia and then headed home. As the sky darkened, and the ground became damp, my nose followed suit (not the darkening part). I popped Severe Cold meds, grabbed a box of Kleenex and pulled the blanket up around my neck as I stretched out on the couch. It was as if someone had put superglue there. I simply couldn't get up. And so there I stayed, as glued to the couch as my eyes were to the T.V.

The text messages started arriving from Tx - it wasn't a great day for the giants, but I knew there was more to come. Besides, we were up by two.

Then came Halloween. As the sky cleared, so did my cold, so John and I went for a hike up in Redwood Park. Normally in the fall, we see brown, but as we had had some early rains, we were delighted to see the bright green mosses adorn the trees. We headed up Stream Trail and found that the lady bugs were already gathering. This is an annual occurrence where the lady bugs gather in the same spot every year.

Millions of them huddle together, normally in the dead of winter and hibernate until the spring when they fly away. Strangely, it was in the high 60's, and the lady bugs were about two to three months early. We watched them huddle for a while and then continued on our way.

That night, I once again found myself on the couch - eyes glued to the game. Never, in my entire life, have I been so engrossed in baseball. But this year was different - the team was different, everything was different. I appreciated the strategy, the offense and the defense of the game. It finally made sense to me. That's not to say that I don't think that there are about 120 games too many in the season, but this was pure fun - especially since the Giants took their third game and were now just one away from winning the World Series - after more than 50 years in SF - could they really bring it home. Oh, and the text messages from Tx - well, my colleagues cell phone battery must have died, 'cause it got really, really quiet.

After the game, I headed down to my neighbor's house where he hosts an annual neighborhood party. He gets a ton of kids so he invites his adult friends over to join him. I brought my four bags over as I didn't have a single visitor. That's what happens when you live just slightly up a hill - a blessing in some ways. The neighbors and I talked about the joy of the game and our thoughts on the upcoming election - who would be our new Mayor? Who were "you" voting for and why? What would happen in Washington. It was all good though when the evening came to an end.

Dinner. Quick!

2010-11-03T07:27:00.001-07:00

What was I thinking, agreeing to have four people over for dinner on a Friday night at 6:30? Normally I get home at 6:30. I had been thinking all week, what can I throw together that will be yummy and easy? I decided on clam chowder and crab cakes on salad - easy.

I dashed out of the office a little early and hopped on BART. I ran in the door at 5:15 - started prepping appetizers (cheese and bruchetta, with tomatoes and basil fresh from the garden). Luckily my clam chowder "recipe" calls for a lot of cans and little cooking: three cans from different mfrs of chowder, 1 can of corn, bake two potatos, toss in some extra milk, a little chopped onion, cayenne, and add butter - voila! The crab cakes were a tad more challenging - crab season hasn't opened yet - we resorted to the $16/8 oz tin of crab (good quality but pricey). They turned out fine, but there's nothing like REAL REAL REAL crab.

Guests arrived on time and we imbibed. They seemed impressed by my de-canning ability for which I was grateful. Finally around 10:30/11:00 guests departed and I collapsed.

Giants Fever 2

2010-11-02T23:39:00.000-07:00

Thursday I went to the Ebbie awards - an award given by the SF Chamber of Commerce to "best of" businesses. I accepted this invitation as a guest of my company, which was being honored for being a centenarian. We're actually around 175 years old, but who's counting?

It was my second instance of being in a place where I might normally like to be (I mean, I had a free glass of champagne in my hand) but my mind was somewhere else - namely Pac Bell Park. Luckily throughout the event I was not the only one checking my phone for the score. They had the game on, on TVs throughout the Masonic Auditorium and I made sure to keep my eyes on as I passed by. Additionally, while awards were being given out, they would also announce the score.

After all awards were presented, my colleagues and I wandered the joint nibbling on the free food (lots of finger food like chinese dumplings, onion strings, tiny desserts, etc). And after about 45 minutes, we grabbed our bags and hit the road.

On our way to Powell St BART, we ended up on the street in front of Lefty O'Doul's. A crowd had formed as a TV was turned streetside and we watched with joy as the Giants went up by 3, then 4, then 5! We jumped up and down and screamed in the middle of the street. My TX colleague's texts became more sullen and pouty, "they don't deserve to win if all they can do is walk them in". My response, "how do you look in orange?"

Giant Fever

2010-11-01T07:59:00.001-07:00

I'm a post-season fan. It's true. There are something like 160 games in a season which is easily about 120 too many if you ask me. So right around august, when talk of the post season heats up, I start to CRT interested in baseball.

This was a good year. Wednesday night I had a social action meeting at the synagogue. I went- a bit begrudging as the first game of the world series was on, featuring my beloved Giants.

I honestly felt a bit like my grandfather, who used to wear a transistor radio like a body part- glued to every word of the announcer. Me, I had my trusty iPhone.

I engaged as much as possible, grabbing my phone and checking the score as if i were waiting for life saving news.

I also kept getting text messages from my friend in Texas- hard to respond when I was trying to help solve critical Oakland issues. The meeting ended after about an hour and a half and I ran out to the car, giddy to hear the giants were ahead.

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Mystic Pizza

2010-10-29T07:52:00.001-07:00

So maybe the title is a bit dated, and my event didn't take place in Mystic, Ct., but I did make my own pizza, from scratch on Monday!

I bought a small bag of already yeasty dough at Whole paycheck which apparently kept rising in the fridge, because when I pulled it out on Monday, after two days, the cellophane taped bag was open and dough had forced its way out and into the vegetable bin- like "the fog" it crept through the fridge.

I rolled the soft, yeasty dough out, making sure to get the air bubbles out. I then pulled tomatoes and basil from the garden to make my own tomato sauce. Rolling the dough onto corn meal and dusting the top with olive oil before spreading the sauce on were the tricks to a crunchy crust and a non-soggy pizza. Delicious!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday Rainy sunday

2010-10-28T20:33:00.001-07:00

I had the sneezles on Saturday night and as much as I wanted to see my girls on Sunday for movie club, I decided to lay low- too much of a good thing and all that.

It rained on Sunday which also provided a perfect excuse for staying in- all snuggly buggly in a ruggly. That was until 5 when we went to the "evil" step's house for family dinner.

I actually love my evil step family. I got pretty lucky. Once a month we plan to get together for dinner. We started this about a year ago when we realized how much we enjoyed holidays. I asked, "why don't we do this more often" also, I was inspired by tv shows with fake families having Rockwellian moments- I wanted a slice of that life. So we made it happen. Like every Rockwell painting there is more to it than what's in the picture, and not every picture is perfect, but we love our imperfections.

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SF Jazz Fest

2010-10-27T22:52:00.000-07:00

John had toured a bit with Vieux Farka Toure when he was with Pee Wee Ellis on the Tribute to James Brown tour. I thought it fitting to get tickets to see Vieux play with Taj Mahal in a combo blues / African / jazz combo platter at the Paramount Theater in Oakland for John's birthday.

So here's the deal: John killed my ability to enjoy music. It's true. I can no longer listen like a civilian / regular person. I hear music differently now. I understand music like a musician and it has totally ruined my ability to just sit back, listen and have a good time. Now I hear the crap. I can tell when a drummer is rushing or when he can't play well, or when other musicians make mistakes and train wrecks occur. I hear it all, and it sucks.

So on that rainy Saturday night, we found our seats (great seats - and they should have been for $75 each!) and settled in just as Vieux started playing. I loved his set. His playing, singing and stage presence was fantastic. Then Foday Musa Suso played a bit on the Kora. It was spectacular.

Then Taj came out with his trio. I listened to the first couple of songs - Taj has a great presence on stage and at 70, he has not lost a thing in his performing ability. He's still amazing, charming and engaging (and a great performer). His drummer, well, that's another story. For two songs, I chalked up my ennui to the sound. The Paramount has lackluster sound compared to many Bay Area venues. By the third song I had pretty much made up my mind that he was just an uncreative player who could play 16th notes really well. And that was about it. Just tink, tink, tink, tink on the high hat. There was no playing on the rim, no dynamics, nothing. It was the same tempo, same beat, like a goddamn junior high school player - not a single thing to get me interested in the songs. Even during an ensemble piece with Taj, Vieux and Foday, Vieux turned to the drummer to indicate, "bring it up with me" (that means - help me with the intensity of the song), the drummer kept plodding along - think "happy trails" do de do de do de do de.... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. John was ready to pull a "John Bonham" and run up on stage, shove the guy off the stool and grab his sticks. I would have welcomed the change of pace.

So there it is - Me - a ruined music listener. I'm done for.

Birthday Bash

2010-10-24T13:04:00.000-07:00

Poor John - a classic Libra, always weighing decisions but barely able to make them. That's what happened with his birthday.
me: what do you want to do for your birthday
he: I dunno
me: really?
he: I dunno
me: bbq?
he: .......

So I put out a call to a few friends:
Dinner.
Friday night
be there -9 :15 p.m. Party like a New Yorker!

So we went to dinner at Plum. the new Oakland hotspot owned by famed SF Restaurateur, Daniel Patterson of Coi.

That was the night that Texas beat the Yankees - life was good.
Dinner - so, so.

With all the hubbub around this opening, i was really expecting something special. I got - different.

the "snacks" were overpriced - $4.00 for a bowl of "heirloom" popcorn. Not exactly sure what that means...old corn? Red & black kernels? then there were the potato chicherones - puffy potato strips w/no flavor and no dipping sauce (also $4.00), and the chickpea fritters - aka falaffel, also $4.00. The vegies were good (the roasted, buttery carrots). I ordered the slow roasted egg - that was a big "don't bother", but I heard that the beef cheeks and ox tail burgers were delicious as were the clams. so the moral of the story is - give a new restaurant time to work out their kinks. This place needs a little more time to work out the details.

As for the friends and the birthday - big, big fun. That was partially due to Harvey's expertise at ordering champagne, wine and his own two bottles of yummy red. Yeah Harvey and Happy Birthday to my hubby!

Popsicle Toes

2010-10-24T12:54:00.000-07:00

Yeah, this is out of order, but I forgot....

On Friday the 15th, our friend Willard Dyson was in town to play with Michael Franks. Michael has been around for a while. He's now a middle-aged white guy with a very silky smooth voice. Pleasant. His main claim to fame is his song "Popsicle toes". In our house, it's also known as Wendy's Theme (especially in the winter). I was no stranger to this song, having lived it pretty much my entire life.

We were escorted to excellent reserved seats at Yoshi's, Oakland. Normally, it's a drag to go there where you either pay for a pricey dinner and get in early to tag your seats, or you pay up the wazoo to reserve early. It's a crappy system, but they've gotten away with it for years. Our table mates were friends with the keyboard player so we were all, "with the band". It's how I like it - how I roll.

Of course being "with the band" when the entire audience's average age was about 60 wasn't particularly exciting. That said, as I looked around the audience (recognizing a few faces from here 'n there), I saw a very enthusiastic crowd (about as enthusiastic as middle-aged white guys get listening to "smooth jazz".

Thankfully, unlike my normal self, I did not fall asleep! It's a blessing and a curse. I can, and do, sleep anywhere, under any circumstance. This time though, as mellow as the music was, I managed to keep my eyes open the whole time. A new first for me.

I enjoyed seeing Willard play. Willard is a very cool guy. From a distance, he's pretty scary looking, but knowing him as I/we do, he's just a gentle giant. I was appreciative of the free tickets, and of getting to hear Willard, but Michael Franks - well, let's just say he left me feeling a bit like my toes.

Living Color

2010-10-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

John had to work Sunday. It was a disappointment. I think that the last 21 months took more of a toll than I thought. Even a little disappointment feels like a betrayal and a reminder of what was difficult while John was doing the show. It's as if the wound, just starting to heal, breaks open and my defenses go up. I am supportive - John is self employed, therefore there are sacrifices we make as a family, yet there are times I just want to have a "normal" relationship. It feels like John had an affair with his work and every time something happens that feels like we're falling back into a pattern, "She" hurts me again.

I mean, it wasn't a big deal - it was a Sunday and I knew he'd be done at a reasonable time. Besides my friend was coming up from LA with his new girlfriend. My friend, call him "Mike", as in "Mike 'the Situation'", always has something going on. And this something was a new girlfriend. New girlfriends aren't really a big deal in and of themselves, except this girlfriend was half Mike's age.

Mike had fallen in love with a very young (yes, she's of legal age) woman.

To be fair, she was / is lovely. She's sweet, smart, not at all "young" in demeanor, though she looks barely 18. There is nothing wrong with her. I really liked her when I met her. What I didn't like - it's not what you think - it wasn't that he's twice her age, really more than twice her age, but rather that she was throwing away some of the best years of her life being with a guy who is likely the same age as her dad. I remember when Mike and I worked together, we were both in our early 20s and we were having a blast. We were hanging out with people from all over the world, making friends, living, and developing as young adults. We were dealing with all the things you deal with when you're young - like thinking that you know EVERYTHING, but making mistakes because you don't. All of that helped form both of us into who we are today. And when Mike was saying, "I want to show her Europe" I thought - she needs to be off doing that with her friends (like I did), and having those memories to cherish. I also kept thinking to myself, as a young person, even a few years makes a huge difference. When I was 12, I had a HUGE crush on a boy named Steve who was four years older than I was. Only four years! But I was 12. And then I think about when a 21 year old dates a 16 year old and how creepy that sounds and yet they are only five years apart. And when a 35 year old dates a 42 year old, those seven years are meaningless. As a young adult, even the smallest variance is exponential. So I was troubled. But then I realized, they are in love and it's not my life and if they are good to each other and make each other happy even for a few years, well... that's what counts. One day, whether now or in 20 years, age will most certainly be a factor.

So Mike, his girlfriend and I headed into the city and wandered around. We stumbled into Swill, a cool, hipster bar up from the theater district where the girlfriend was carded (we weren't), and then we grabbed a bite at E&O. John and I parted ways (they headed home like an old married couple) and John and I headed over to the Independent to hear Living Color. Living Colour is an American rock band from New York - what made them so unique when they formed in the mid 80's was that they were an all black rock band. It was amazing to hear them play in a small venue (earplugs were in). Even more germane, was the age of the crowd. It was in fact a house of aging rockers. The band hit their stride in the mid-80, meaning that if you were old enough to really get this band then, you were somewhere in your early 40s to mid/late 50's. Yep, the gray hairs were rockin' the house. So while Mike and his 23 year old were rockin' our murphy bed at 10 p.m., we were rockin' at the Independent - just like we were 23 again.

Old Oakland Beer Fest

2010-10-19T19:46:00.000-07:00

I was in a bit of a haze last weekend - the whole not-knowing thing was a bit challenging. Even though I was fairly certain cancer wasn't in my future, I couldn't help but think about it. John was working on Saturday, so I was on my own again.

I rode Petunia in the morning. We went on trail alone - a real first in that Petunia prefers a herd. But I got her on trail and we rode out to a big apple tree where I tried finding some low hanging fruit. Apparently I wasn't the only one looking - all the apples were too high and when I grabbed the branch to shake some loose, I scared the shit out of Petunia and she demanded we return home.

I spent a couple of hours in the garden cleaning up and just as I finished Robyn and Susan gave me a call to meet them for lunch at Tamarindo. If I hadn't been rushed (they were already on their way), I would have ridden my bike down town - but instead, I showered, shaved and shined and headed down. As usual, the food was fab - EXCEPT... no dessert. the chef was out at the Pacific Brewing Company / Old Oakland Brew fest.

As I had pulled up I noticed that two or three blocks were closed off to traffic. There was a row of classic American cars lined up in a row. It was some sort of Hispanic Driving Club that showed up to show off their lean, mean, American driving machines. Beautiful!!!

As I was staring at the stage, well, specifically what appeared to be the lead singer of a band that was about to go on, I recognized a name on a amplifier stack, Charles Stella. Charles and John were in the Uptones together in the 80's. And there he was. I'm fairly certain that Charles shares the same genes as Dick Clark, or like Dick Clark, he made a pact with the devil. Charles still looks as good today as he did 25 years ago. So maybe he is a modern day Mephistopheles. Regardless, we spent a few minutes catching up, until he and his freaky bleach-blond, spikey- haired singer and a crazy ass long-legged African American dancer-woman started performing.

They sounded like a new version of The Fixx with a tad bit of scream-o tossed in to make it contemporary. If you don't know The Fixx, check 'em out, if you don't know what scream-o is - don't bother. It is what is says it is.

After a few songs I toodled back to my car, wishing I had ridden my bike. I headed home and decorated a bit for Halloween. I wanted to try to cheer myself up a bit and there's nothing cheerier than spooky bits around the house.

Snippit outta me

2010-10-17T13:15:00.000-07:00

I figured it would happen at some point. I had a circumspect mammogram. I had gone in on a Saturday for an appointment, then called back for a follow up. I had had a follow up once before - kind of cool actually - I got a sonogram on my boob (saw my heart beat and everything) and they declared me fit. This time, after the second Mammogram, I was called into the Dr's office (not a good sign).
we found something suspect. little calcifications forming a small constellation, heading towards your lymph nodes
oh
we might not normally bother with this, except they are aligned and heading towards a lymph node
sounds like The Borg. (that's me with the humor) now what?
We'd like to schedule you for a biopsy.
ok
.......... insert daze here.

I'm fairly certain that cancer, though in my genes, is not in my future. I just don't believe I'm going out this way. I truly believe I'm going to just pass away of old age. Or on the toilet - from something adventurous I ate, but not of cancer. I don't believe it's in the cards.

So Wednesday, I left work a little early, having told just a handful of co-workers, and went to the Carol Ann Read Breast Health Center at Summit. It's a beautiful facility. If they could bring in a manicurist, it would be really fabulous. The valet parking is a very nice touch.

When the Dr came in I was light and breezy, but once they had me strapped down and in, my mood changed - maybe there really was something to be concerned about. I flinched as the local went in, burning through my tissue, and then the procedure began... and then it was over. I left a bit bloodies, bruised and with some type of boob tracking device left in as a marker (or for "them" to find me when they come for me).

I felt a bit tender and worried. It had a become real. So now, here it is Sunday, and I'm still waiting for the results. Fingers crossed.

Worse for Wear

2010-10-17T12:56:00.000-07:00

Manhattans/ Manhattan - a drink a / a city. John and I seemed to have had similar experiences, however, he was a little worse for wear on day two than I was. I rallied - he could barely muster the energy to pick up the blue bamboo we had ordered.

But I did get him to rally - for an hour - then there was football... a Sunday tradition.

Monday, cousin Rebecca sent me a text:
Still on for tomorrow?
Tomorrow? (hmmm - I had a business dinner at Farmer Browns...)
M.I.A. - with Ruby at the Fox
Crap. Yes - of course. see you at 8:30.

Ruby is Rebecca's 11 (nearly 12) year old daughter, cute as a button. I had committed, so I agreed to bring John. I did an after dinner dash to BART and met John in front of the theater. Cousins were awaiting our arrival. Thankfully Reba had ordered reserved seats, so we weren't in the moss pit area and we could hid from the throngs of 20-somethings and tweens. M.I.A. also known as Maya had a hit song in the move "Slumdog Millionaire. "

The concert was shear torture. The opening act was a group of young rappers from Bal'more, hopping around the stage to the reverberation of an amped up bass. I'm sure they were rapping about something relevant to young, urban youth, but it was indecipherable to me.

After that, we had a brief respite with a fairly adept DJ and then came M.I.A - I had thought, expected something along the lines of say, Kei$ha or Rhiannon, but no... I got M.I.A. a young, British black girl who jumped around the stage chanting (not to be confused with rapping) to techno-like music. There were two mildly entertaining male dancers and three back up singers in burquas. After a quick bathroom break, where I met twenty-somethings hugging the porcelain, I returned to my seat. It was at that point when I leaned over to "whisper" (like you whisper at a concert... hello!) to my cousin, "that's it! I'm done. It's official. I'm old! I don't get it." and with that, I gave both cousins a hug and grabbed John for an exit, stage left.

We debriefed:

Was it as bad as I thought it was?
It was pretty bad
So that's what 'the kids' are listening to now
Guess so.

And with that, I passed into the next generation.

Forage (2) / The Revenge

2010-10-13T22:56:00.000-07:00

John had never been to any type of Forage event and he had been intrigued by my urban forage. Never one to shy away from something new, we rode our bikes down to 24th and B'way, parked at The Y, and headed over. We were joined in line by our friends Anna and Jerry and shortly thereafter, Kaya, Sue and Pete.

Prior to the last three's arrival John and I had already scoped things out. The first bite was a mini cupcake - a chicken and waffle cupcake to be precise. I know, I know, it sounds nasty - that is until you start to think about real fried chicken served with the most delicious maple-y waffle - the sweet and the salty - and oh boy. So my first reaction was probably like everyone else, "your kidding, right?" The baker, a large African American woman, was sitting alone with nary a sole in sight. John said, "gotta try it" and he chomped down into it. "Oh my god". Gimme that! I polished the rest off. "Oh my god". Soon we were surrounded.
What?
What?
Oh. My. God.

It was the perfect blend: a tid-bit of crispy salty fried chicken (a tiny nugget or two) on top of a moist, delicious maple flavored cup cake. De-vine.

Next I went back to my favorite guy from the first forage, the Cone Daddy. Cone daddy is pure vegan. He makes a crispy cone (shaped just like and ice cream cone) of flax seed and fills it with a melange of ingredients. My very first cone was his specialty, the spicy Thai. This time I tried his Italian, with a pesto and tomato mixture. Then we scoured some more, checking out what everyone else was eating. We tried:
- home made Sasparilla
- home made ginger ale
- deep fried savory and sweet raviolis
- raclette (melty cow cheese over little potatoes)
- vegan "bacon" hot sauce
- Nicaraguan food
- seafood Paella

and no - we were not eating like we were still in NYC (okay, well, maybe a little) - but it was SOOOO good.

At around 7, we wrapped things up. We had been invited to Diana and Phillip's house for a dinner party.

No. We did not eat a second dinner. We did join our friends at the table for conversation and wine, and then drinks, and then more drinks, and then my chocolate cupcakes with the salted caramel butter-cream frosting. Yes - that was to die for.

John, sadly, felt like dieing too, but not from the cupcakes. I think this was more from the "most delicious" Manhattans that Phillip had been making all night for John. I assumed the role of designated driver early in the evening.

Apparently John's cocktail glass had a hole in it because Phillip just kept filling it up. John was in heaven - socializing, drinking, dining - all things he had been deprived of for nearly two years. This happiness came to an end around midnight. Just like NYC for me, john became intimate with an inanimate object. No longer did I have to experience the ridicule of my NYC experience. I was grateful that this vindication occurred so shortly after our return.

Free at last! Free at last! Free at last!

Compulsion

2010-10-12T07:28:00.000-07:00

there was nothing truly different that occurred Tue - Th. John and I continued on our course of getting to know each other again. On Friday, John had a gig "on the rez". He was playing with a cover band at an Indian Casino up near Sacramento. I passed on the opportunity to listen to Top 40 in a smokey environment with a bunch of gamblers, as appealing as that sounded. Instead, I decided to take advantage of going to see a play at Berkeley Rep, which I had been hearing about, "Compulsion" starring Mandy Patankin.

The play, compulsion, was about the writer who brought The Diary of Anne Frank to the publisher, and his obsession with getting the play written and shown on Broadway. Sadly, this compulsion nearly caused his wife to kill herself, and nearly caused him to collapse mentally. The play is told through voice over with images cast onto the wall and with marionettes. It was powerfully played by the small cast and crew on a tiny, intimate set.

It was interesting to go by myself, especially since this was a conscious decision, rather than by default. I enjoyed that I had that choice- wait for John and go with him or go now, alone.

Monday Mel

2010-10-11T22:17:00.000-07:00

Why stop? We were home, but we still had our NYC energy. The Mel Martin Big Band was playing at Yoshi's Oakland on Monday night. If we could rally in NY, there was no reason why we couldn't rally in Oaktown.

I quick cooked us up some grub (a first in a week) and then headed to Jack London. It was unfortunate, but the club was (eh, maybe) half-full. We were a loud and enthusiastic audience, hooting and hollering for John's local brethren.

At the end of the set, as John was talking to a bass playing friend, arms were waving from the stage (I can't take him anywhere) and John's friends (the drummer and a horn player) were over chatting it up. I had to pull out my "How to Speak Music 101" book to converse with these guys. They definitely speak a different language. Thankfully over the last 20 years, I've immersed myself to become somewhat fluent, but sometimes still need a reference guide.

Example:
yeah man, you were really swingin'!
Translation
I loved what you were playing. You played that swing style really well.

Example:
Yeah, he has great gear
Translation
He has a beautiful instrument, it's a shame he can't play it

Example:
That dude cannot play the spaces to save his life
Translation:
It's a shame that he plays so many notes. Sometimes less is more in music.

And so it went. We were literally kicked out around 10:15, so we called it a night. Early for us NEW yorkers (but it was actually 1:15 NYC time, so we felt okay about it).

Last Day in NYC

2010-10-11T22:05:00.000-07:00

For some reason I thought I had woken up early (for once), alas it was 10:30 a.m. (hard to believe with the 5 month old who had apparently been crying for a good part of the morning). Cousin's wife had to be at Saks to shop with her sister around noon, but we really wanted to go to brunch with them on our final day. I quickly rallied, and dressed in less than 15 minutes!

We went to a little Spanish place up the street and were quickly seated (Cafe Ronda). This would more than likely be our last "real" meal in NYC (airport food doesn't count). Unfortunately I felt I had to take it easy (I was still recovering from the whole trash can affair). I had two poached eggs on toast - sad for a Spanish restaurant. After breakfast, John and I wandered the West Side down to Columbus Circle. We went to the American Folk Art Museum, and wandered the gift shop. We sat in front of a wall sized quilt - an homage to the victims of 9/11. It was quite striking & moving. We just sat for a while and read each square, honoring fire fighters, police and civilians. Each section representing some part of that day: the towers, Flight 93, the Pentagon...

After we continued to the shops at Columbus Circle and then slowly wandered back up. It was finally time to say "good-bye" to our hosts and NYC. We hopped the train and then the Air Train to JFK, grabbed food-to-go and then flew home. We arrived and found The City as we had left it, lovely and slightly cool.

It was good to be home.

NYC 4.5 & 5

2010-10-09T15:39:00.001-07:00

I was really looking forward to seeing Laura, a friend of david's who became our friend. We also planned to see Tim and his girlfriend Dede. John had recently flown to NY to record her album.

We met at a funky little divey place, a bar/ clothing boutique in the east village at 8:30 quickly and easily downing a cocktail. We were to head over to a hipster joint around the corner for dinner at 10. Upon arrival at the Social Club, I discovered a message that Laura was ill.

We didn't find this out until after we had put our names in and ordered a second drink- uh oh. The place was loud and perhaps a tad too hip for us. Dede seemed to be in her element (she had sung back-up for Kei$ha- Tim preferred a bit more quiet. We polished off the drinks- I was feeling NO pain, and went around the corner to grab sushi.

This would gave been fine, and seemed to gave been fine until we headed home. We were waiting for a train sometime around 1 a.m., my head was in John's lap. All of a sudden a wave came over me and I became intimate with a NY Metro trash can. Clearly this was mo unusual sight as people walked by, tossing their trash in as I expunged mine.

I felt better and a train arrived. That was, until I didn't. That was when we hit the west village- 4th street to be exact. "we're getting off here!" an shortly thereafter I got intimate with another trash can. I had become a trash can tramp.

Finally, John, looking out for my best interest, pulled me up above ground and hailed a cab home. Maybe he had become jealous of the trash cans...

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NYC Day 4

2010-10-09T15:18:00.001-07:00

My friend Suzanne came down from Connecticut to spend the day with us. I used to stay with her when I'd come to NY on business. She met us at the apartment, and then we headed into Central Park on a beautiful fall day. We felt the change in seasons- where just the day before was 75 and humid, today was in the upper 60s with just a slight chill in the air.

It was in Central Park where we had the quintessential NY experience.

As we were walking through Strawberry Fields, by the John Lennon "Imagine" sign, a walking guy and a runner bumped into each other.

Watch where the fuck you're going! Asshole.
Fuck you
No- fuck you!
You wanna go asshole? I'll take you down.
Try it, you fuck...

And so it went. The runner would try to continue on his run, and the other guy would chase him and take a swing. One of them connected at least once. It was all a bit surreal. And do we carried on...

This day would not be without eating. By this time it was past noon. We went to a diner and ordered breakfast. Jimmy met us there. We proceeded to 5th ave where Suzanne and I split off from the guys- they went to the park to smoke a cigar, we went to buy lipstick (our favorite pastime!)

We all parted ways around 5. Another power nap and then back out, our last evening in NYC.

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Day 2.5 & 3

2010-10-08T21:10:00.001-07:00

After a power nap we rallied to go to a highly recommended restaurant, Telepan. We arrived and even with a tiny baby in tow, the were very kind to us in this upscale restaurant. We all easily decided on the four course tasting menu for $55 (a veritable bargain, even by NY standards). I started with a foie gras appetizer, then a lobster pasta dish, a corn soufflé and dessert. I was in such a food coma I really don't remember what I ate.

At that point, John and I parted ways with the cousins and headed back downtown.

Our dear friend Michael Ross was playing guitar with a blues band in the West Village. After the first set we walked over to a tiny divey club where we heard another band play. John was excited because Sean Pelton, the drummer for Saturday Night Live was playing. t the end of the evening John spent a little time chatting him up and then we headed home.

Phew! All this and now finally Friday. We awoke to a rainy day and decided on a late breakfast (11:30) and the museum of natural history ( a la A Night At the Museum). I refrained from asking where Ben Stiller was, though I was tempted. Upon exiting the museum few hours later we found the rain had passed.

We decided to head over to herald square to check out the new road turned to parklet. John and I had a busy evening ahead of us: coffee with one of John's conductor bosses, meeting our friend Jimmy down onWall Street where john would sit in with the band,and meeting our friend Lisa!! So we met with Boco for coffee at a Starbucks (he has a gold Starbucks card!), then we headed to wall street- saw Jimmy, met Lisa, and after went to blue ribbon cafe for dinner at 11 pm! This town really never sleeps! Blue ribbon, aside from having amazing food, serves dinner until 4 a.m. This is where the chefs go when they are done for the night.

We ate and ate and ate and ate! Our waiter adjust come back from Oakland raving about Commis. He was thrilled to serve us. We started with oysters, then salt and pepper shrimp, john had the marrow, plus fresh baked bread, wine and... There was another dish in there somewhere. Phew. Again at 2 we headed home to refresh our batteries Nd prepare to eat some more.

NYC 2

2010-10-05T21:19:00.001-07:00

Thursday we awoke at 10:30 - aaack! We needed to be back in the village at 11:15 for our culinary walking tour. We barely had time to shower, shave, shine, and hop a train downtown.

Thankfully the trains were running on time and we made it. Our guide Sephra greeted warmly with a bottle of water. The tour was fantastic. Sephra was funny, dry witted and just very New York City.

We started at Joe's Pizza where we go the story behind the NYC pie, then onto Faiucci's meat market where we joshed on an "oranccini" (little orange) actually a deep fried mozzarella and rice ball breaded (yum).

We walked barely half a block as Sephra told us tales of the neighborhood and explained about how the area developed and how people lived when hey first came to the US.

We then went to Palma and worked our way to the "back house" - yes, a house in the back of this tiny Village restaurant, where we met Walter the chef who served us a tiny, delicious dish of cauliflower, caramelized shallots, olive oil and pine nuts.

From there we went to a vegan Japanese restaurant, then to Cookies and Milk for a fresh out of the oven chocolate oat cookie. As if hat wasn't enough, after a brief walk in the hood, getting a little more history, we made our way to Murray's Cheese Shop for a sample plater and then to Rocco's for a freshly made cannoli.

At this point we desperately needed a nap, so back uptown we went for a power nap before dinner- oh yes, we weren't done eating yet!!!!

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NYC 1

2010-10-05T20:56:00.001-07:00

Wednesday morning John and i awoke at the butcrack before dawn- 4:30 to be exact, so we could catch a 7:30 flight to NYC. Neither of us operate well at that time, but we managed to make it on time- even with time to spare.

I don't know what it is about the TSA agents in SF vs other cities, but they are clearly trained to be rude, and generally unpleasant.

We arrived at the very reasonable hour of 4:30 p.m. and hopped the newish air train to Jamaica station and then to the C train to the upper West Side, where my cousins live in a (NYC large) 3 bdr apt/ co-op.

After exchanging pleasantries, John and I headed out to the concrete jungle. We dined at a Turkish restaurant (a bit Greek, a bit a bit Mediterranean, all Turkish and delicious).

We headed down to the West Village to hear jazz. We stopped at the Fat Cat and heard an outstanding jazz band. Our friend Willard met us there, introduced us to the band, and then at about 1 a.m. we walked over to he Zinc Bar to hear a Brazilian guitar player. Willard knows everyone- we got in for free.

Around 2 a.m. it was time to head uptown and hit the sack! (not really so late- 11 p.m. our time)

Summer

2010-09-28T08:21:00.001-07:00

Summer came on September 24th. The night was so warm I was wearing a t shirt outside until 8 pm, never even considering a sweater.

I had ridden johns fold up bike to work on Friday, enjoying the morning exercise and fresh air. And when the end of the work day rolled around, I grabbed the bike, hopped on BART, then rode home in the warm evening air.

John was making mojitos as I walked in the door, in a Mad Men site of way. We grabbed a cheeses plate and day outside on our new garden furniture in the warm summer night.

Our neighbor Todd popped over like Seinfeld's Kramer and joined for a drink before going out on a Friday night date.

After Todd left, we rode our bikes down the street to get dinner. I had hoped to go to Boot and Shoe but apparently I wasn't the only one with that idea- after waiting 15 min with another 30-45 to go, we grabbed Chinese takeout and rode home.

Coco500

2010-09-28T07:47:00.001-07:00

The week flew by with little different going on other than actually spending time with John (novel concept). We started making a habit of having dinner at the table and talking rather than sitting and eating in front of the tv to cram in as much Dexter as we can in one night. Actually sitting together and talking has improved our intimacy tremendously. It's easy to see where and how couples fall apart just through the tiny things that come with comfort and laziness.

Enough on that...

Thursday night my college roomies and I got together in sf for dinner at Coco500, one of the Chron's top 100 restaurants.

Lisa and I arrived around the same time and promptly ordered burrata, carefully splitting this delicate cheese three ways. It was all we could do to hold ourselves back from Sarah's portion. Thankfully she arrived shortly thereafter and we commenced our reunion. It felt very natural. Although I know/ remember living with Theresa and Berkeley, really my best years/ best memories/ best roomies were Lisa and Sarah.

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Sunday Streets

2010-09-22T08:03:00.001-07:00

My friend Cheryl started the Sunday Streets program in San Francisco. The program closes down parts of the city to cars allowing people to walk, bike, stroll without the fear of cars.

John and I rode our bikes to BART and rode to Civiic Center, popped up, rode up McCallister and ran into Cheryl's husband Rich.

Rich was just wrapping up his volunteer stint, as was Cheryl, so we hooked up and started riding around the city- up (ugh) and down hills (yeah).

The music was fantastic and plentiful as we rode around the western addition. We grabbed bao from the Chairman Bao truck (delicious) and then went to Cheryl's friends mike and Nancy's house for a street party

After, we rode back down to BART and headed home- a perfect early fall day.

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Saturday Night

2010-09-21T07:48:00.001-07:00

We packed a lot into one day- our first Saturday without a matinee. John taught in the morning, I rode, then we readied for the evening.

Sarah and Phil were having a big BBQ for Sarah's birthday (50th)! The party was great and we were both bummed that we couldn't stay longer. They had done such a great job decorating and putting out a great spread of delectables, plus it was great to meet new people and hang out with old friends.

But we had bought tickets in June for Kathy Griffin at Davies and couldn't throw those tickets away.

Kathy didn't disappoint- she loves SF- her performance is like having a good friend in your living room telling great stories for over two hours.

We returned home that evening and promptly collapsed on the couch.

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Date night

2010-09-20T07:41:00.001-07:00

Thank goodness our date night was nothing like the movie- no gangsters, mob members, car chases, just a good, ok'd fashioned dinner & club.

We hadn't seen Dean in ages and John had never met his girlfriend ( of a year and a half)! Some circumstances beyond our control, and then there was that Witch!

So with one if our favorite New Orleans bands in town, Bonearama, we decided to meet up with Dean & Beverly at Wasabi & Ginger before going to Red Devil Lounge.

Dinner was delicious- an assortment of grilled and raw fish and some sushi added to the mix.

We arrived at the RedDevil just as the opener was finishing up. The Bone were their usual funky selves and around midnight we headed home, but not before we stopped at the donut place to grab a few glazed, old fashions.

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The Witch is Dead Part 5

2010-09-17T07:55:00.001-07:00

Hibiscus restaurant is on the smaller side with a fairly limited menu, which isn't a bad thing, it just is. As it turned out, the combo of an event at The Fox and The New Parish, a Sunday night and less staff causes our group to wait more than an hour for food! Luckily when it arrived it was delicious.

This was my first time to the Fox, and like he Paramount, it is stunning. The restoration put it back to its original glory. The Scissor Sisters were tremendous, original, and the show seemed nearly sold out. It was a blast partying with people of all ages dresses fantastically- boas, led lights, and lots of shine and glitter. I glowed thee day after.

Monday morning I got up a bit sleepy from thud night before. With my usual routine I got up, opened the cupboard to get a mug only to discover a giant note taped to the interior of the cabinet, "good luck today". Then I opened the cupboard to get my oatmeal, "knock 'em dead in your interview!". Then I opened the microwave to put the oatmeal in, "you'll do great!"

Just like when we first started dating- John would leave me the sweetest notes. I swooned. I'm loving the new, refreshed John. And now I'm realizing how much being apart affected us. I'm also recognizing how much John's work schedule took the life out of him. But all that said, we survived and we are well on our way to recovery.

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The Witch is Dead Part 4

2010-09-16T07:46:00.001-07:00

Sunday morning John awoke refreshed, "ahhhhh, a bed." today was really the first day of our new life together. I stayed in bed with my little flax seed patch on my eyes, shielding them from the daylight. I heard the rustle of John in the office and then the sound of the litter box being cleaned- sigh- happiness.

I got up and puttered around the kitchen. "don't make coffee!" "tea?" I asked. Hmmmmmm.

About 20 minutes later John walked into the kitchen with two tall Starbucks pumpkin lattes- i swooned. Then he pulled out the frying pans and made me breakfast.

Who are you and what did you do with my husband?
An affair?
What? Who? Huh?

I proposed that we ride our bikes to Albany to go to the Solano Stroll. No short trip!

We plotted our course on my Alameda County bike map- rode down Grand, onto Market, up 61st to bike blvd ( California) to Colusa- and Voila! Solano. But not until we had talked and talked and talked...and we stopped: to enjoy architecture, and landscaping, and garden centers.

We met up with Dayna, Michael, family and friends, then grabbed a bite, and hit the road back.

That evening we had dinner at Hibiscus, and then headed over to the Fox Theater to see The Scissor Sisters.

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The Witch is Dead Part 3

2010-09-15T07:52:00.001-07:00

After nearly destroying the house like a wild, caged animal, I managed to pull myself together. I drove to John and Kristen's party,grabbed a drink and tried to calm myself down. I enjoyed seeing my friend Garth Weber

and his band play outside of John's barn (no horses in this barn).

I kept checking my phone hoping John would come home early and meet me at the party, but no luck. My mood was not improving. Finally around 7 pm I headed home. A message awaited me- John was home. Would he be happy? Relaxed? Refreshed? Or would he be crabby & bitter?

I walked in the house. The shower was still running. I guess a week in the wilderness causes some dirt build up.

Out of the shower John greeted me warmly, "bunny! I missed you!"

After a warm reunion we drove to Garibaldi's for a romantic dinner.

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The Witch is Dead part 2

2010-09-14T07:48:00.001-07:00

So for one more week I plan out spending my time alone. John has gone off to commune with the the bears and squirrels and I'm left trying to entertain myself- too married to be single and too single to enjoy the benefits of marriage. The weekdays aren't so bad, but at the end of a hard week I want company. I get home Friday and text Kirsten, "movie?" "can't- party tomorrow." that would be her boyfriend John's party with a band I helped pull together.

So I pull out the stack of paper on my counter,
Magazine articles, recipes, bills & junk mail and sort through it- not exactly the kind of Friday night I was looking forward to.

Saturday I go for my usual ride on my trusty steed, Petunia with my pal Dale. I get home, make cupcakes for the party and try to get online to get directions through e-vite, except the Internet is down, as is my tv and phone- damn U-verse!! I try calling only to be told by my NBFF, the automated voice, to get help on line or on he tv... Drrrrrrrr. Then he transfers me to get help and that number has been disconnected! I am ready to kill someone and that person is my husband who left me to commune with the bears. I begin tearing the house apart. Why cant i fix this? Why don't i know where the U-verse box is? Papers are strewn everywhere. I start thinking divorce.

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The Witch is Dead

2010-09-13T07:51:00.001-07:00

Labor Day marked the beginning- of Fall, the Jewish new year, the school year, and my getting reacquainted with my husband .

That Monday we drove our bikes to Marin County, parked in Mill Valley, then rode to Sausalito to the Art Festival. There was great music: sons of Champlin, and Mavis Staples. We saw John's friend Vicki Randle, freshly home from her 20 (?) year stint on the Tonight Show. We also saw our friends dick and Barbara bright. It was a beautiful fall day.

John left on Tuesday for a solo backpacking trip leaving me alone once again. I knew he needed to do this- I figured, "what's one more week?"

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Foraging

2010-09-04T16:51:00.000-07:00

It was a toss up today - 80's music at the Sausalito Art Festival or Foraging. The foraging (pre-paid $30 ticket) won out, and I wasn't disappointed. I originally signed up to do something different, but ended up learning so much.

We met, rather secretly, at Dimond Park in Oakland. I had no idea this lovely little park even existed. Fifteen of us met in the upper parking lot. We were joined by the AP (yep, the Associated Press sent along a reporter and photographer along to chronicle our little two-hour tour. Watch for my name to cross the AP wire).

We barely left the parking lot when we were introduced to a live oak tree (acorns are edible and highly nutritious) and then a California walnut tree (ready to pick). As we walked down the road we found Fennel (every part of the plant is edible), blackberries, wild currants, manzanita (edible bits), and then walking down the Sausal Creek Trail we came across stinging nettle, apparently the super food of the foraging world, wild radish (beautiful purple flowers) and various other leafy green plants (cleavers and horsehair).

I wasn't prepared to take the copious notes that my other foragers were taking but the tour was fascinating. Our guide Kevin (www.feralkevin.com) is a self-taught naturalist, and amazingly knowledgeable. He was happy to answer any and all questions as we barely walked 100 yards from where we parked our cars. A full two hours passed and my attention never waned.

What I loved: food is everywhere.
What I felt disappointed by: I thought there would be a little more to forage.

The gist is that in the East Bay Regional Parks, even eating blackberries is frowned upon. But don't tell anyone, I couldn't help myself. When I see blackberry bushes I can't help but look for the biggest, fattest, juiciest blackberry I can find, and then pop it in my mouth, even risking EBRPD jail. I simply can't help myself. And now that I know that wild radish is abundant, my jail risk has just doubled. But I'll try to put my free food hoarding insticts aside and wait for the next foraging class where we'll go out and learn about acorns (that's in the fall). Interested? ForageSF is the place to watch.

Rednecks

2010-08-31T19:41:00.000-07:00

Some people say redneck like it's a bad thing - here, in the South, Redneck is practically worn with a badge of honor. Talledega: "yeah man, we love our NASCAR"; Bush, "Best president ever"; Oh-bama, "Do you mean the guy in the white house or the university?"

So here I am, my little, liberal, Jewish self, trying to blend in. Today I went to Niki's West (owned by the "Gleeks", and I don't mean lovers of the show Glee), where I had fried chicken livers, collard greens, fried green tomatoes and peach cobbler. I was asked, "were you raised in the South?" "No, I'm Jewish" ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I had tried to hide that fact as long as possible as I sat swilling my beer with the good 'ol boys, as I was prodded, and cajoled about "the gays" in San Fran, and how there are a lot of "I-talians" and "Gleeks" in this area. And while I was driving around today, I was informed, while in the ritzy part of town, that there are a lot of Jews there. I had to wonder... what's "a lot"?

I'm not saying they are bad people here, because they aren't. I've been treated with nothing but good, Southern charm. My sense is that the problem here, and with most rednecks in general, and I mean this of rednecks of all persuasions, in all states, is that they simply hang out with other rednecks. They don't have friends who are gay, and if they do have "a" relative, it's "my gay cousin Larry"; they don't have friends who are black or Jewish or I-talian, or G-leek. They know these people exist - co-exist - but they go to different churches, and they have their own BBQs, and they simply don't mix. Sure their lawyer is probably Jewish, because they know that that's what you do is get yourself a smart, Jew lawyer. And of course they aren't racist, if they were racist, would they hire a Jew?

So I do my best to try to blend. I hide my Jewishness as best as I can and I don't mention that yes, I do like Barak Obama, as they carry on with their chatter, and back-slapping, and talk of huntin' and fishin'. And as I drive around Alabama, I think, it sure is pretty here, and it sure would be nice if...

SURPRISE

2010-08-30T09:25:00.000-07:00

It's not easy pulling off a surprise party, but I did it (HA!). Mom turned 70 on Saturday and for months I had been planning, conniving, conceiving of a plot to lure my mother into a major surprise. It took coaxing and cajoling of my step-father who insisted we'd never be able to pull this off.

Thankfully, he was wrong.

I invited family and our closest family friends to join us in our now newly renovated back yard, which john toiled over for the last month. Having busted the budget a while ago, we no longer had the luxury to "just throw money at it" so John put in some long back-breaking days (with the help of a crew of some Guatemalan men from the Fruitvale District. So, maybe a little money was thrown at it, but John did a ton of work and it really paid off.

We hired Picante to cater, and our standby Joyce helped bartend and clean up. She's a dream.

In the end we had a successful party for 40, with around 100 cupcakes that I baked after weeks of testing. I think they turned out well, but I know the party did - YEAH!

Going Straight

2010-08-26T21:02:00.001-07:00

You gotta be careful when you say you are "going straight" around here - it can mean so many things. For me, today, it meant taking advantage of a Groupon for $150 for a $300 Brazilian Blow-out.

I decided to cheat on my stylist Dwight. For a $150 savings, you can call me a hair whore. I needed something new and Dwight, as much as I love my Dwighty, couldn't off himself up to me for $150 less. hmmm does that make him the hair whore and I'm the hair John? Anyway, I went to Patrick Evans Salon barely around the corner from Stephen Saiz Salon. And as I had feared that it's nary a block away, I might be spied going into this Salon, however like a lover who wants to get caught, he found out the old-fashioned way - he read my posting on Facebook. I could tell the hurt in his reply, "What?" and then the sad emoticon. I cheated on him - I went to another salon - and I got caught.

So the colorist/chemicalist, spent the next two hours painting and frying my hair into submission like a hair dominatrix. She blew me out and flat-ironed me to a pulp. I walked out of that salon with a whole new outlook on life, and my hair. I felt so good about myself I walked across the street, hair flipping in the breeze to the Ted Baker store to see my old pole dancer/sales assistant, Storm. Sadly, Storm left TB and moved onto the greener pastures of Barney's (c'est la vie).

So although infidelity didn't feel good when I got caught, the thrill of the prize was worth it in the end. I may have been a hair-John, but my wallet and ego were pumped by my decision (see no so great self-taken pic)

Jack London Square

2010-08-25T11:38:00.000-07:00

WARNING: Deep /soul-baring writing below. May not be suitable for all readers.

Summer finally arrived on Monday, August 23, 2010, and it arrived with a vengeance. It must have been in the high 80's/low 90s that day.

Sunday afternoon I had joined my "mommy movie group" to see "Eat, Pray, Love". It must be early menopause, but everything about middle-age makes me cry now. This movie in particular, by the way, much better than the book, really struck a nerve. I was sniffling throughout the film. Everything about her life was resonating with me- she abandoned her marriage; she went out on her own; she sought out new adventures. Me - I love my husband and don't want to end my marriage, but I am not really trying new adventures (well, I'm doing a little different as best I can), and I'm not striking out on my own - but the romance of it was so enticing. So I shuffled home and then took myself on a bike ride to clear my head (throbbing from the sniffling).

By Monday, I was deeply saddened. That night John and I rode our bikes down to Jack London. Beer Revolution was closed so we headed over to a funky little (and I mean square footage little) bar. I stood behind a Hell's Angel and his girlfriend and ordered a couple of beers. We sat outside and I bared my soul to John, telling him how unhappy I've been lately.

In an unlikely and uncommon male response, John simply asked me questions, "do you need to have an affair?" (me: "no"); "do you want to leave?" (me: "no"); and then he told me about when he was going through a rough patch (during Lion King) and how he was questioning our relationship. It stung a little just hearing it, but was helpful to know that these things happen and I wasn't alone. The more we talked the closer I felt to him. What I realized while sitting outside at this funkly little bar, was how little time we have spent together over the last 21 months. It's no wonder that during these long runs how we feel a distance from each other and how our relationship suffers.

The outcome of this was that through a real and meaningful communication we were able to talk - just talk. Thankfully John didn't go into a typical male-fix-it mode and he just asked questions and listened. I chalk this up to his having been raised by the pack of wild lesbians. He really understands how to relate to women. And truly, just talking, really, truly talking - re-establishing intamacy through communication, vastly improved my spirit and my love for John.

Been A Long Time

2010-08-23T17:04:00.000-07:00

It has been a long time since I've written (yikes). This was due in part to a lack of newness and the fact that I was planning a reunion with my former college roomies.

It had been 27 years since I had last seen my former college roomie Berkeley - talk about a long time. It had been somewhere between seven and ten years since I'd last seen my former college roomie Lisa and just a few months since I'd seen Theresa and well, Sarah, thankfully I see her frequently.

After much wrangling, coaxing, and cajoling, I managed to pull together a short reunion planned for last Wednesday, through Friday. We were to meet for lunch in SF at Chez Papa Resto and then either carpool or caravan up to Sonoma to the Sonoma Mission Inn.

Sarah was the first to arrive. We see each other often so there were no surprises other than her broken foot. Berkeley Lisa arrived next. It was fantastic to see her. Sarah, Lisa and I had been best friend (we even had small gold pieces that fit together, "we're", "best", "friends"). It was so great for the three of us to be together again - just like old times.

Berkeley and her boyfriend Jerry arrived - Berks looked as naturally beautiful as ever, and then Theresa joined us with her brother Lon (hot!).

After lunch we headed up North. Lisa and I in one car, Theresa and Berks in the other. The first night together was full of giggles and wine - or wine and then giggles. If our rooms had adjoined, we would have been popping in and out like a college dorm. Instead we walked next door with the door propped ajar with the lock.

We went out for dinner and reminisced about the old days (sigh) and talked about our lives, their kids, my cats. Most of the "kids" are now practically adults, either having graduated from college or just heading off. After dinner, giddy from wine, we fell right back into our old habits..."who has pot?" I know, I know, it's silly, but there we were, four middle-aged women in search of a joint. "Ask a waiter!" I chimed in. We pushed Berks back into the restaurant. True to form, we were directed to a dive bar where Berks chatted up a bar dude and walked out with a pathetic little bag of crappy weed - but it was all fun and giggles as the thrill of the hunt was the most fun.

The next day we lounged by the pool and then around three p.m. went off to wine taste. Afterwards we headed to Cafe La Haye (top 100 SF Chron list) for a fabulous meal, and then back to the room for more giggles. By this time, Berkeley's bf Jerry had joined us, causing Theresa to get a roll-away bed into our little room. Berkeley's luggage had become separated when she flew out to SF, only arriving at midnight Thursday night. In the mean time we resorted back to our collegial ways and shared our clothes - just like old times.

There was so much more that happened (inappropropriate to share with the world), but suffice it to say that we had a great time and vowed to keep in touch - perhaps even have annual reunions. Only time will tell.

Forage East Bay

2010-08-08T12:21:00.000-07:00

Last night a group called ForageSF held their first underground "farmer's market" in a parking lot on 24th street at Broadway in Oakland. People lined up around the block to pay $2.00 to become a member and enter the grounds where artisans and chefs sold their goods without the pesky permits that dog cottage industries.

I sampled some of the most delicious food yesterdsay: a raw flax seed crunchy cone filled with mango and other delectable ingredients which created a spicy Thai cone. I then had a spicy, yet creamy mac 'n cheese. I sampled "Kaya" (funny, because I was with my friend Kaya who was concerned that she was eating herself). Kaya is a coconut cream which these folks had lovingly spread on toast out of a toaster oven.

My cousin and her daughter were selling their own free-range honey, straight out of their back yard hive in Tiburon. And then there were the sweets, many of which were raw, vegan, or baked and fabulous.

We foraged and grazed for nearly two hours. The only problems I saw were that a) it started late -5 p.m., and there weren't many beverage vendors. The beer guy pretty much had a lock on beverages. But this event apparently blew away the SF one (according to the cousin who participated in the SF version), which is just another reason why I love my city. Oakland rocks and hopefully this is just one of many forage events. My next Forage event will take place on 9/4, where I'll go on an East Bay forage through Forage SF (at a cost of $30). The intrigue begins....

bad day, good ending

2010-08-07T09:14:00.000-07:00

Some time in May, during our year long back yard construction project, our contractor managed to damage a water line causing and additional 42,000 gallons of water to flow. This water made its way down the slope and into our neighbor's garage damaging personal property and the structure itself. Thankfully we have a good relationship with our neighbors and the discussion was very civil - we were responsible, we'd pay. That said, we never did the due diligence to find out what putting in an insurance claim would mean (for us / for them). So we did things the old-fashioned way, we wrote a check and shook hands.

Then the bill came.

Then I contacted AAA.

Then things got uncomfortable.

It's no fun being called a liar, which is what my neighbor did. He claimed I lied when I said the insurance company wanted to send their own contractor out. I may have made a comment about them not liking that he just "hired his guy", who is an unlicensed contractor, but that's me being the messenger. So I got home early yesterday (my computer had crashed at work and the tech guys said they'd have it to me at 10 a.m. monday, or Tuesday at the latest (WHAT?). By 4 p.m., with a loaner that wasn't working, and being in a mood after hearing about the neighbor, I left work and headed home. A group of SF friends were heading from the city by ferry to Beer Revolution in Oakland (my backyard). I ran in, grabbed my bike and peddled hard down to Jack London Sq. I made it in 15 minutes. I was booking! I kept passing a white BMW, whose driver kept yelling out to me, "I love how you signal! Stay safe! I should be out there on a bike!" So I'd pass him, he'd pass me, we'd chat along the way and then I arrived at The Revolution.

We Oaklanders love our city - the SF fog had been held at bay and we were on the deck enjoying the sunshine and various assorted beers. Also, a place down the street delivers food to beer revolution so we ordered dogs and frites (veggie dogs). Then my friend Kaya called and she was on her way to the Best of the East Bay party held by the East Bay Express newspaper. It was a very fun event - three music stages, numerous food and craft booths, vendors, food trucks and the like. Immediately I spotted CupKates - the cupcake truck and ordered four cupcakes (two S'more and two Salted Caramel). I knew I'd be John's hero bringing home the cakes.

We then grabbed a couple of tac0-truck tacos from the Whole Foods mobile cart (delicious) and then packed it up to head home.

After a crappy day, the beer, food, cupkates, ride, all helped relieve the stress. I arrived home happy, healthy and sated. It was a good day afterall. Oh, and John talked to the neighbor, who apologized and we agreed to pay half of the cost of the repair and call it a day - sometimes throwing a little money at the problem works.

My FTFB

2010-08-06T07:44:00.001-07:00

Last night I got together with my former temporary fabulous boss (FTFB). Mary. Mary is whip smart, confident, pretty, and pretty amazing. I had the pleasure of working with her when my regular full time fabulous boss went on maternity leave. I learned a lot from Mary- how to keep my challenging direct report in check, how to be more confident, how to think about what an executive wants to see when presenting to them.

So it was a real treat to join her after work for a drink and a nosh. We met st the bar at Compton place, elegant, like she. She insisted on buying dinner and we sat and talked for about two hours- about what she's doing, and what I'm doing and should be doing.

She urged me to take care of myself, told me I was underutilized/ underemployed and that I need to have more confidence in myself. Basically she gave me a big boost and kick in the ass. It was great.

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Cupcake Wars

2010-08-03T08:11:00.000-07:00

New guilty pleasure, even surpassing Hoarders - Cupcake Wars! I probably wouldn't ever have watched if John hadn't recently become obsessed with making his own cupcakes, to which he even initiated a "Wicked" cupcake war (pre-tv show), complete with a Cauldron trophy. The prize was based on presentation and taste. John came in 3rd, even though his cupcakes were completely devoured (before anyone else's).

So now I'm addicted to the Food Network's show, Cupcake Wars, where four contestants battle it out to win a measley 10K. The competition is fierce, the time pressure is ridiculous (1000 cupcakes in 2 hours on a newly made display), and the creativity is awesome.

This show has inspired me to new cupcake creativity (crackerjack cupcakes, S'more cupcakes with the marshmallow fluff torched!) Thankfully recipes have been posted on the web site. My waistline won't appreciate this show, but my belly will.

The New Mayor?

2010-08-02T08:11:00.000-07:00

I went to a house party yesterday for a new Oakland Mayor candidate, Joe Tuman. Joe holds a JD, was a political analyst for CNN and CBS and is a professor in the CSUC system. He's liberal minded, passionate about Oakland and smart. I was more impressed with Joe than any of the other candidates. What I most liked about him was his "best practices" approach to problem solving rather than the finger-in-the-dyke approach that the city has been taking for so long.

He has real and pragmatic approaches to problem-solving (like our current police situation). He understands working with unions (has done so within the CSUC system), and he knows the city and the insiders, as an outsider. He isn't beholden to unions or other special interest groups, and he's a realist. He recognizes that he may not get everything done in 4 years, but he can lay a foundation.

I became disolussioned with Jean Quan during the Mehserle verdict. I feel that she may have good intentions, but her decision making is a bit flawed. I see in Joe a man who can work with the press, provide a positive image for the city (loves it like the majority of Oaklanders do) and take a no-nonsense approach & a business approach to working towards solving the city's problems. (Plus, he's a snappy dresser - Mom, I told him you said so).

Gilman St

2010-07-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

Kirsten's boyfriend's daughter, Lily, is 20. She has fuchsia/red hair, is stick thin, appropriately pierced, and she's a drummer. Barely out of her teens, she conveys the proper amount of malaise, shyness around adults, and youthful exuberance when appropriate (like when she's drumming). Kirsten promised her she'd go to a gig, and so the two of us went to 924 Gliman / The Caning Co where bands such as Rancid and Green Day played their first gigs.

In order to get in you have to become a member - for two-bucks. I got my membership card, paid my cover charge, five-bucks, and entered the real of Berkleye punk. They walls were grafittied to the hilt. An image of Mao with Mickey Mouse ears was painted prominently above the stage. There was no bar as this is an all age club - not even a soda was sold on the premises.

Prior to leaving I had posted on Facebook that I expected to be called Grandma when I entered, but the kids (and I do mean kids) at the door welcomed me (and all of the other parents) into the club graciously. I bought a round of ear plugs for a few people in my group, which included Lily's friend Mary, Kirsten, Lily's mom and her boyfriend.

The band started playing at 8 p.m. and I stood and listened as Lily and her band-mates jammed through a 25 minute set. The music was a cross between Screamo, punk and just simply hard-rock. The songs started and ended with little chorus or bridge - they just went.

You have to give credit to anyone who puts themselves up in front of a group to perform. You are at your rawest, putting your creativity out to be judged. So Lily and her band got an A for effort. As to whether I'd buy their album (once they make one)... that remains to be seen.

Lolita

2010-07-29T23:06:00.000-07:00

Ok, so the place is called Lalita, but how much more interesting would it be to have a Thai place called Lolita?

Last night we met Dick and Barbara for dinner before they headed off to see Wicked. (thank god people are still paying to see this thing). Dinner was nice and afterward I headed home and made it to bed a little early.

Not too long after a bell started ringing in my dream. No, not my dream, my subconscious - no, my consciousness... The Phone! at 12:30! John calling that he's at West Oakland BART with a dead car battery. I'm shaking my head out of a deep sleeping haze and put on my slippers, grab a sweater and head out in my jammies with my Pebbles ponytail. (Not Happy / Very Sleepy).

Unfortunately I must take some of the blame. For two years I've let our AAA membership lapse (we never use it). I figured why pay that $135/year when it can go to something better? The answer is: cause when you need it, you really need it. Still in my haze and fearful that this is just the time when stupid people are out and bad things happen, I'm on edge and John is tired and frustrated. We can't find my battery in my car, though I have jumper cables. Finally we grab a cab and pay the guy $20 to jump the car.

By the time I'm home I'm keyed up and unable to sleep. John is wound tight as a drum. Not a good night for the two of us, but once in bed, with the soothing sound of purring between us, we drift to sleep and try to forget about the evening's drama.

Moral of the story: keep you r AAA membership up to date.

Monday Night Movie

2010-07-28T07:59:00.000-07:00

One would think that you'd have a near private screening at a movie theater on a Monday night - not so this Monday at the Grand Lake Theater. We got there just a few minutes before the film (Inception) was to start, only to find a line that snaked its way--INSIDE the theater.

Odd.

We were actually standing by the food concession waiting to pay for our ticket. What was to stop this line of nearly 30 patrons from simply going in and sitting down? Nothing really. I suppose most of us Grandlakians simply respect the theater and business owner too much to try and cheat. Perhaps that shows that most people truly are good - know right from wrong, and aren't trying to scam the system. Plus, a single-owner, non-conglomerate theater in a highly liberal area says "stick it to me". Had this been a UA or Regal theater, I'm sure people would have said, "screw it" and simply taken their seats. As it was, I was able to purchase the popcorn while John paid. We sat down in our favorite spot (hint: there isn't a row in front and it's nearly in the middle of the theater) and we watched what I think is probably one of the best movies of the year.

Inception is a highly complex, layered film that leaves you struggling to remember where you are in it. Sure, there are cool special effects, but the premise of the movie, and the acting make it especially spectacular. See it again? hmmmm - not sure, but it was definitely a "WOW" film.

Out the Door

2010-07-26T08:32:00.000-07:00

John and I got out the door close to 1 p.m. Perhaps cutting it a little close for him to get to work on time. Me, I was just going to do my favorite pasttime, shopping at the Westfield Center before meeting a friend to see a movie, "The Kids are All Right". Shopping was disappointing. Sales people have become lackluster. They lack the basic understanding of how to make someone feel good about making a purchase. Even when I've signed my credit card, the experience isn't over. A thank you isn't enough. They need to complete the experience by reinforcing my purchasing decision, "you're going to love it", or "you look great". These statements make the experience. So I left Nordstrom and headed to the theater to see the movie.

"The Kids are All Right" was fantastic. It left me feeling for the characters and even as I sat down with John for dinner at Out the Door (Charles Phan's Slanted Door spin off), I cried as I told him the story. Not sure if this was the movie or hormones, but regardless, I loved it.

Julianna Moore and Annette Bening play two middle-aged lesbian mothers of two kids who find thier donor dad. Relationships become complicated and the story evolves.

Dinner at Out the Door was equally fantastic. We had crab and corn soup (a clear broth with chunks of crab w/fresh corn and tiny little hints of cilantro), a Lobster roll (one was cold, one was hot - that was sad), and a generous heaping portion of crispy duck. Out the Door was a nice little hidden gem inside of the giant hulking mall.

Paella

2010-07-25T08:39:00.001-07:00

Friday night was just a tad different in that I was laid out flat on the couch nursing a horrific sinus headache. I couldn't keep my eyeballs open long enough to catch up on crappy t.v. Saturday morning, still reeling from the lingering effects of impacted sinus cavities, I downed some pseudoephedrine and spent the rest of the day in an decongested haze.

Finally, late in the afternoon, my head was clear enough to figure out what I was going to make for dinner as Diana and Harvey were coming over at 5. Mom had brought back saffron (more valuable than gold), Spanish paprika (smokey flavored), and anchovy stuffed olives. What to make? Paella!

Living in "the information age" I pulled up a recipe on Epicurious.com and got to work. What turned out was a tasty, albeit a tad too salty paella dish. I was mildly displeased as I got a little too heavy handed with the salt. I think the chicken broth would have been salty enough-otherwise--not too shabby.

Drink and Ride

2010-07-23T07:53:00.001-07:00

I was tired of doing nothing, or even doing something by myself. John stayed home a few minutes later before heading to work so we could hang out for 15 minutes or so, but that wasn't enough.

My friend- good acquaintance Shari, a mere kid at 25, bartends down the street at my favorite "biker" bar. Sure, there's a lot of ink invthat place. Shari is nearly covered head to toe with giant, scenic and symbolic tats. But anyone who ever walked by the serenader before it became heart and dagger will agree it's a perfectly safe place to hang put.

I hopped on my trusty Giant, and whizzrd down. Shari greeted me warmly and hooked me up with a tea infused vodka- delicious. She also introduced me to her friend Gina, so I was set. Well, one drink led to another and the next thing I knew I was riding seven long blocks home a tad tipsy.

The riding part was fine, the dismount-not so much...

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Gimmes

2010-07-21T08:06:00.001-07:00

Gimme may not be in Webster's, but it is most certainly a word- as in, gimme this, or gimme that. This is not to be confused with, iwanna- I wanna go to the zoo.

The gimmes are an affliction. Imagine becoming overwhelmed by the insatiable desire to own, say a new oven. In fact, you actually, truly NEED it as your old one died. So you begin the research process, whereby you findcwhats available in varying degrees of price, quality and functionality. Then it hits you-- the gimmes. You have an uncontrolable desire, nay, need which must be filled. You succomb to the disease, and your pockets become empty. This is, I believe, what happened to the US when the economy collapsed. We as a nation were overcome by this horrific disease. I prayvthey come up with a cure soon, lest I spend $3,000 on a new oven.

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The Group

2010-07-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

Last night, Sue and Kate (Plus 8--or 10) gathered to celebrate their birthdays at El Tapatia in the Fruitvale district of Oakland. We met at this nearly empty restaurant and for all intents and purposes we took over the place. The evening was filled with lots of laughs as we spent the evening regaling in stories of trauma (two medical professional in attendance) and murder (the great mystery of Bozie & Smuffin).

As John and I were driving home, he said, "what a great group." And then it dawned on me, we had a group, and in a very Seinfeldian way, I said, "Hey. We have a group. As in, let's get the group together. Do you think the group would like to do this? When is the group getting together again?"

The group consists of Sue and her boyfriend Pete, Jerry and his wife Anna, Kaya, Kate, and then join and I joined in later to the original group I like to refer to as Branch Levinians (Sue's last name is Levin). We added a couple of other members to the group including Sue's brother Bob, his partner Keith (pronounced Keef), Ingrid and Mary. There are others who occasionally join "the group" but that's pretty much the core.

Each of us in the group would make a great character, were we written into a T.V. series, for example, Kate is a nurse, somewhat obsessed about her weight. When she generously volunteered her time in Haiti after the earthquake, we bet (it's a running theme) on how much "weighty Katie would lose in Haiti". The answer: 2 lbs. Pete likes to put a dollar bet on pretty much anything; got a kitchen remodel? there's a kitchen pool; Think in might rain in the next two weeks? there's a dollar riding on it. It's all good natured fun. I might as well fess up here as it's only fair...My character? I'm the shopper (sigh - yes, I know, no big surprise). My group is about as low key as they come. Kate announced that she never (underscore bold, big font, italic, exclamation point), never buys clothes. I nearly fainted. Anna was excited to share with me that she bought a pair of new shoes recently, and Sue texted me once, very proud that she bought 7 pair of shoes. Of course I had to make sure that they weren't all sneakers, slippers or flip flops (they weren't).

So... there you have it - my group - in a nutshell, and more.

Psycho

2010-07-18T09:37:00.001-07:00

My step father snd step brother had never seen the original Psycho by Alfred Hitchcock. Last night we had tickets to see the movie, for $48.00- with the San Francisco Symphony playing the score.

I had no idea the impotance of the score of that film until the two were separated into two distinct elements. The score helped tell the movie. I would go so far as to say that in this case, the movie would not have been what it was without the score. There were no less than 45 strings: violin viola, cello & bass. It was fantastic- textural, and the film was ransformed before the eyes of a nearly sold out, enthusiastic crowd. Of course nothing slipped by this crowd as Anthony Perkins "swished" up the stairs, or when a cop exclaimed, "he's a transvestite!"

We laughed at some of the dated language, but thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

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Social action

2010-07-15T07:48:00.001-07:00

The Temple Sinai Social Action Committee met last night. My first time attending in three years where I wasn't a chair or co/chair.

It was a pleasure to sit back and participate rather than lead. One thing I noticed was how in this type of volunteer setting, how personal objectives prevail. It made me wonder if this isn't what happens in politics. You honing for the greater good and end up being self-serving.

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Brick and Bottle

2010-07-14T08:27:00.000-07:00

Sarah and I met at Brick and Bottle in Marin last night (formerly Savanah Grill). For some reason this location seems to turn restaurants faster than I change underwear (well, maybe not that fast). I had heard mixed reviews, "expensive, food 'okay', etc.", and being a foodie, I was excited to try something/some place new.

Sarah arrived with a full Nordstrom bag of cataloges. I never get them, they run rampant in her household, nearly causing her to obtain an additional recycling bin. We sat at the bar and chatted, and perused cataloges, often interrupting each other with, "CUTE!". We're multi-taskers, so we didn't miss a beat in our conversation.

At one point in the evening we were questioned by another patron, "Excuse me. Are you doing market research or shopping?" I guess most people don't shop in restaurants. "Shopping" we answered in chorus. "That's SO CUTE!" Again, I guess we were a little bit of a spectacle with a shopping bag of catalogues now strewn helter-skelter under the bar.

After two and a half hours of gabbing, shopping and eating, we gathered up the detritus and headed out. Luckily, we spotted a recycling bin at a nearby business, sparing Sarah the task of ordering another bin.

Oh! My duck pizza was delicious and we each spent about $25 (food, beverage, tax/tip).

Chaos

2010-07-13T07:05:00.001-07:00

We had our monthly Family Dinner last night with 99% of our family present. That meant that David, Judea, Max and Alex were present. It helped me realize I made the right decision to be DINKy. David, Judea and Alex (15 mos) arrived (Max, 7, was already here). Max, always one for the spotlight, took over and showed us all how much he loved his little brother, to Alex's chagrin. "Love" meant hugging, grabbing, pulling, squashing and annoying.

I have to give my brother a lot of credit as he learned how to tune out the chaos. Me, I was but five steps away from grabbing the Ativan out of my purse and knocking a couple back. I restrained, but it was a challenge. I wonder if maybe parents develop their own benzodiazepines, much like a runner develops a "runner's high", I think parents must excrete their own benzodiazepines, helping them deal with the constant cacophony.

I asked him if he ever got quiet time, and the answer was "no". I sat in stunned silence. As the kids "played", screamed, cried, gurgled, and cooed. I thought to myself one thing: as the runner gets his natural high from running, and parents excrete their own natural benzodiazepines, I simply had to be in the room to have my own, natural birth-control.

Entrepreneurship

2010-07-12T18:01:00.001-07:00

I learned all about entrepreneurship from my 7 year old nephew yesterday. We rented him a bike (way too big) and we rode down the Tiburon bike path until we came upon a play area where Max quickly set up shop.

Never shy, Max directed me on how and where I could order my rocks or bombs which were for sale out of his playground stand. I chose to purchase rocks, since I had no current use for a bomb.

Max set the price, 1 rock of an equal or larger size for one of the same, only more beautiful!

After teaching me how and where to order, he set out to train other kids how to take over his business after he left. He was very specific with his instruction, and on our ride home, he made sure to explain to me his succession plan for his business.

I'm not sure what my brother has been teaching Max, but perhaps he can use my blog when he applies to Stanford for his MBA in entrepreneurship. He's already well on his way to being President of his own multinational corporation.

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Do you know the way to San Jose?

2010-07-11T08:32:00.000-07:00

John took the day off to play a public gig with Stu Hamm. Stu is a rock star among musicians and music lovers - an amazing bass player with an incredible resume. We drove down to San Jose where they were playing, on Santana Row. It's a lovely adult Disneyland filled with spas, high end retail boutiques and condominiums, and a Starbucks on every corner (well, almost).

The day was warm and sunny (unlike our beloved Oakland) and I sat outside under an umbrella as friends came from near (San Jose) and far (San Ramon & Oakland) to cheer for John and enjoy the music.

It was a new experience, this San Jose thing: summer weather, baby-strollers, lawn & music. The afternoon was lovely, but I failed to remember to "hydrate" and as we drove home into the bay fog, I was overcome with what I believe was a mild case of heat stroke. My head throbbed and my stomach churned.

We ended the day with our friends Joe, Charla and new baby Cashel. I was unable to drink anything but bubbly water (sadly I couldn't drink any of the wine), and I chowed down on bread, hoping to settle the rumblings in my tummy.

Finally, the water and meds kicked in and the day concluded. A lovely day in the summer heat and an evening enshrouded in fog with friends. Sounds like a perfect Bay Area weekend day to me.

Hotsy Totsy

2010-07-09T23:32:00.001-07:00

Friday night and I hooked up with former colleagues from Pictopia. It was a small company, so it was pretty amazing that out of 15 employees, 6 of us met for a drink at the Hotsy Totsy in Albany.

We were lured not just by the offer of libations with friends at a local dive bar, but by the taco truck which appears nightly around 8 p. m.

We enjoyed the interior of the bar, decorated with velvet paintings and mid-century modern furniture. We also enjoyed the benefits of cheesy dive bar appeal with their 1980's drink prices. Where else can you get a glass of 12 year old scotch for $8?

But the best part was the taco truck, where we waited in line in the freezing Bay Area "summer" air to order delicious $1.25 pollo tacos. This litte truck put the food of any fancy restaurant to shame. Plus, we were on the cutting edge of the new "moving feast" movement.

One word: Yum!

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Bigotry

2010-07-08T07:54:00.001-07:00

I took the long haul down to Palo Alto to see an old friend last night - Diane.

It had been years since we had last seen each other in LA where she and her "husbutch" live. (her term, not mine)

We spent three hour together catching up at a fabulous little Greek restaurant. At some point during our conversation she tolde how she has been experiencing bigotry. While looking for an apartment in Palo alto, the owner was insisting on two beds for her and her "sister" even though she kept telling the woman this was her Partner! Hard to believe in this day and age, in this area.

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Shop Class

2010-07-06T07:26:00.001-07:00

I was never very brave as far as trying new stuff, especially, "boy stuff" when I was younger. But yesterday, John and I decided to spend the day together and do something. We got inspired at the county fair and John, an avid researcher, found on-line instructions for making a bench which wraps around a tree - perfect for the persimmon tree.

He ran to home depot, and I did laundry (some things don't change). When he came back we embarked on our project. We measured out the pieces and john pulled out the power tools (a miter saw and table saw). I learned how to use them (see picture). That's me at the table saw with eye protection and a mask. That stuff kicks up a lot of dust.

We didn't finish (more power tools to come), but we're part way there and I learned the joy of power tools!.

Fourth of July

2010-07-04T21:39:00.001-07:00

And now for something completely different...middle America! Food on a stick, curly fries, BBQ, and frozen bananas, that's what fairs are to me. Well, maybe not curly fries but definitely the bananas.

We took BART to Pleasanton with our bikes and rode to the Alameda county fair grounds, where we could spend a warm fourth of July, not enshrouded in fog. Where we could see fireworks in color, not haze. We got the fair, but no fireworks. Just Friday night they went off Nd set a hive of yellowjackets on the crowd. We were spared both yellow jackets and fireworks.

We did what we could to enjoy ourselves, eating BBQ, corn, and the choc dipped banana, got our pic taken western style, looked at prize roses and garden design.

After that, we watched impressionable people get hypnotized, then ride our boles back to the station in the warm summer night.

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I Forgot

2010-07-04T11:58:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you do something different by mistake. Yesterday was such a day. I got up to the barn at our now normal time, 9:30. I got Petunia out of her stall and started to walk her by her friend, Boss. She had been knickering and I hadn't given it much of a thought until I realized that she was "in season". For horses, "in season" means "in heat". She stood in the aisle with her hind legs spread and her tail up. What happened next was an anatomy lesson. I quickly turned her around, admonished her for being a slut, and dragged her away from her boyfriend.

I groomed her and gave her a little massage to get her mind off of her missed opportunity, saddled her up and hopped on. Dale grabbed her steed Rado (short for Colorado) and we meandered off down the trail.

Being a warm July day, we met up with plenty of hikers, joggers and mountain bikers. At one point we met up with a pair of mountain bikers as we were ready to head down a path together. I tried to let them go ahead, but couldn't get Petunia parallel to the path. We told the bikers we'd go ahead and cantered on up the hill, leaving them in a bit of dust, but with enough space that we wouldn't have to meet up with them again.

At the end of our ride we crossed paths with our friend Joan, suited up for a ride with her helmet and riding pants. That's when it hit me. I didn't have my helmet on. In the 5 years I've been riding I've never ridden without my helmet. I turned to Dale and said, "you tried to kill me! I forgot my helmet." Dale just giggled and said, "you were just like a cowgirl. you cantered and everything without your helmet."

I have to admit, had she told me I was riding without my helmet somewhere on the trail, I would have freaked out. So--would I do it again? Not on purpose. Did I like it? Honestly, I couldn't tell the difference, except that it was a hot day, and perhaps I felt a little cooler.

Scary Monsters

2010-07-02T23:16:00.000-07:00

Last night and again tonight, as soon as I got home, I hopped on the bike and went for a ride. Last night I rode around the lake, tonight I rode around the lake - again. Originally I had intended to ride to Jack London Square to go see Twilight - Eclipse, but as I got about 1/2 way around the lake I thought I wasn't quite brave enough to ride home at 9 p.m. up Broadway. In all truthfulness, I would have been fine, but instead I carried on around the lake and ended up at The Grand Lake Theater where I say "Twilight - Eclipse". The plan didn't change - just the location.

So after seeing a movie of vampires and werewolves, I walked out to my bike, by myself, in the dark. And I was scared - not because I was a woman alone in Oakland, at night, by myself, but rather I couldn't shake the whole vampire thing. I kept thinking that even though I was surrounded by people as I unlocked my bike, I couldn't help but feel a vampire would swoop down and get me.

I unlocked my bike and with a wobbly start, I rode down lake park drive to Lakeshore and straight up - in the dark - by myself. I pulled up to my house and quickly shut the garage, making sure that I wasn't followed (no stray dogs, no vampires), and then dashed inside and locked the door behind me.

PTSD

2010-07-01T22:42:00.001-07:00

I'm suffering from PTSD - Post Trade Show Disorder, otherwise known as, "I need some timeoffitis"

Where in the last five months we were lucky to see one drug go generic a month, we just experienced five in as many days (three in one day). That, coupled with the Trade Show, has made for some serious stress and long hours.

I got home tonight and rode the bike around the lake; I popped some pre-prepared TJ's turkey stuffed bell peppers, vegies, and potatoes in the microwave and plopped my wide, white ass down on the couch for a little R&R. And now I look forward to that, some movies and perhaps a BBQ this weekend.

Working Las Vegas

2010-06-28T23:34:00.001-07:00

When colleagues say to me, "Oh, I wish I was going to Las Vegas with you" my response is, "no you don't." "But it's Las Vegas."

Yes, it's Las Vegas. Here is a recap of my day:
5 a.m. - wake up
5:30 a.m. - arrive at airport
9:20 a.m. - cab to hotel
10:00 a.m. work
11:00 a.m. work
11:30 a.m. lunch
12:30 p.m. work
...
9:30 p.m. dinner
it's now 11:36 p.m. and guess what I'm still doing...

It's 108 outside and 65 inside (I'm freezing) and I haven't seen daylight since I left the airport. More tomorrow.

B.O.

2010-06-27T15:48:00.000-07:00

Today was OaklaVia, the Oaklandish version of San Francisco's Sunday Streets. We did the B.O. part of the W.O.B.O. Cheryl (my biking inspiration), her husband Rich, and their friends exited SF to come play in the streets of Oakland, where it's flat! We enjoyed downtown Oakland all the way to Jack London Square and the extremities, zipping (when people were sparse), and toodling, when the population got dense, all around.

We explored the Kinetic Arts Center (think Circque du Soleil training center) and Cheryl and Rich ran into about everyone they knew (I call that irony - we're from Oakland). We stopped at a Parklet (faux grass in a parking space with chairs) in front of a small cafe. This is a new trend, call it bleeding edge, getting businesses to create mini parks in parking spots so people can enjoy the outdoors. This was extrememly popular.

We stopped to hula hoop with a group. I also learned an African dance, which was taught by the Oakland YMCA. This was a sort-of Flash Mob for healthy living. The whole experience was fantastic. By 2 p.m. I felt like we were in Amsterdam rush hour traffic with all of the bikes and pedestrians.

I'm loving Oakland as a bike friendly city - but don't tell anyone. We prefer to let people think that the streets are rife with crime. This keeps the rif-raf out.

my big fat greek food fest

2010-06-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

Last night's dinner was just a tad different than one week ago My friend Neo (both of us formerly of Pictopia) invited me over for a spur-of-the-moment dinner with a group of his friends. Feeling the need for socializing, I heartily accepted his offer. I was inspired by the caterer from Nashville last weekend who told me that she was making something special, "a Kapree-zee Salad", which I'd probably never heard of (enter giggle here). I had been tempted to ask if she was using heirloom tomatoes, but thought better of it.

I did the CA thing yesterday and rode my bike to the farmer's market and picked up fresh, organic tomatoes on the vine and fresh basil. I zipped around to Trader Joes for the Buffalo Mozzarella and put together the "salad with a story". My story was a hit, but my lowly Kapreezee was overshadowed by the foodies who prepared the most marvelous buffet of smoked chicken, a roasted lamb (Neo is Greek, and Lamb is not meat in that household), home-made ricotta gnocci, risotto, pickled onion & avocado salad (yes, we Cal-e-fornians love our Avocado), and a bevy of home made sweets, including a chocolate torte and triffle. Additionally there was the wine tastings - 7 or 8 bottles were opened up and poured for tasting. The most delicious was a French Rose - a perfect complement for a summer meal. I reveled in the foodie chatter and even though the house was filled with munchkins aged 2-11 we hardly felt their presence at they gathered together, their little herd, and played nicely and quietly, leaving the adults to chit-chat about how we made our delectibles and other adult subjects.

It was a perfect evening. (thank you Neo!)

Double Entry: Th & Fr

2010-06-25T20:25:00.000-07:00

Thursday night my cousin, Rebecca (the cuz or just cuz), her husband (the doc, or just doc) and I met at a new Marin restaurant, "L'appart". It had been on my list and since we were unable to get together last week due to unfortunate and unforeseen circumstances, we rescheduled for Th night. Perhaps if this restaurant were located in Southern Cal or Arizona or Florida, the idea of maximum outdoor seating vs minimum indoor seating would be a good idea. On a cold June night in the Bay Area, it wasn't such a good idea. When the cuz sat down and the waiter said, "good evening", the response was, "I'm cold". After a little back and forth on why they couldn't wheel one of their unused heat lamps over to our table, we were moved to one closer to a heat lamp. It helped, but it wasn't optimal.

Once we got to the food though, it was terrific. We started with a fois gras appetizer with marinated strawberries. I ordered the mussels and the cuz had the duck. The duck was cooked perfectly - not gamey, with just enough fat-YUM. Joe, the doc, had steak. We didn't end up with dessert because I needed to dash into the city to catch john's non Wicked gig at The Boom Boom Room, playing a birthday tribute to Jeff Beck. Luckily I had had a cup of Joe (not the doc) so I was raring and ready to go. I met up with a friend Michael Hatfield (Mikey Luv of the Buddy Luv band), Diana and Harvey. Around midnight, Diana made a comment that she was surprised I was still there - "AACK!" I panicked realizing the time. I had to be in the city early to present to the President of my division, so I hit the road.

FRIDAY
I got home and threw the bike rack and bike on the car and drove to Kate's. She was going to take me on a real ride. We drove up to Skyline Blvd, parked and started riding up hill. She kept insisting that most of the road was flat and the hardest part was the begining. Clearly she's never looked at a topo map before. I realized after huffing and puffing my way up the hill, after every up, there is a down, which is fine except that only means you gotta ride back up where you just came flying down. She kept telling me it was "flat". Sure, flat at a 10% incline - I never touched my pedals - until I had to pedal back up that damn "flat" hill.

Okay, so that's a lot of whining. It was a great, beautiful ride through the redwoods, but I'm going to curse her tomorrow when I can't walk. Now - I'm going to do something different and go collapse on the couch!

Zydeco nights

2010-06-23T08:09:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I long for new Orleans. I miss the warm nights, the music and the country feel, especially when listening to zydeco. Thanks toy friend Pamela from BISSList, I got free tickets to a zydeco show at the ashkenaz in berkeley.

If ever I was in the ashkenaz, it has been more than 20 years.

Tonight, people of all different ages gathered to dance to the music of the South. If I had been mentally prepared for it, I would have been flattered by the men who kept asking me to dance. Instead I was disappointed that I had to turn them away. I wanted to go and listen to the music. Finally, I gave up. I set my drink and purse down and danced a few songs. I felt like I could have been at Tipitinas in NOLA. It took me back--made me feel like I lived in that place. Then I gathered up my stuff, jumped in my car and headed back to my urban existsnce.
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Franklin

2010-06-22T09:36:00.001-07:00

Call it blue laws or call it "the south", but things just move at a slower pace in the south. We went to historic Franklin to the battlground of "the battle of Franklin". we arrived at the plantation which didn't open until noon-nor did the town of Franklin.

What I found most fascinating during our visit was a book of letters home from Confederate soldiers. The letters put you in the middle of the he'll of war. Soldiers in their teens were out fighting their brothers and cousins. One young man described
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Middle America

2010-06-20T16:28:00.001-07:00

I admit I'm a snob. It isn't that I think I am better than anyone, but I do believe that my taste level is a more elevated than the average Joe. So it should be no surprise that my expectations were low for the wedding we were invited to attend in Hendersonville, TN.

To be fair, my husband's friend has been out of work since the floods decimated an area/entire mall, homes, etc, in the Nashville area. My expectations were low but they were met.

The location along the Cumberland river was beautiful, ducks and geese waddled by, nibbling grass as the attendees gathered on the lawn.

Soon we were seated, awaiting the nuptials in 94 degree summer heat. Of course there were some people who simply threw caution to the wind, fashion be damned, and they wore shorts and sneakers-for a Saturday wedding (yes, call me a snob, but, really, shorts? Sneakers?)

I did my best to be a good girl, and try hard to not let my snobbishness show. I smiled and nodded politely. I grinned when the response from the local prison guard to the question, "what do you like to do for fun?" was met with a big, Beevis and Butthead gummy grin, followed by the response, "nuthin."

I waited politely for the crowd to step away from the trough- uh, table, before helping myself to drippy BBQ chicken wings and cheese cubes. (again, in all fairness and deference to the couple, the BBQ was delicious.)

But the hardest part was the poorly coifed DJ (bleached blonde bangs, with pitch black long hair, pulled back in a high pony tail) played the worst of all wedding music, a veritable smorgasbord of group dance numbers: the electric slide, the hokie pokie, the chicken dance, the Cuban slide...I tried to be a good sport, but no amount of prodding could get me on the dance floor for the macarena.

So, as dusk began to fall, and the temperature dropped down to 90, we pulled our sweat soalked bodies off of the chairs and headed back to our hotel. My husband did his best-friend duty as the best man and I did my wifely duty and smiled politely. And for all the other snobs out there, two little words to avoid-cheese cubes.

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Location:Nashville

O.J.

2010-06-18T09:13:00.001-07:00

Pulling an OJ used to have an entirely different meaning when he was a professional football player. It used to mean running through the airport at top, running back speed, to catch a flight after returning your Hertz rental car. Today, pulling an O.J. means you just stabbed your wife, dropped a glove, and got off Scott-free. My O.J. was of the former.

We dropped our car off at PCA at 5a.m. with an hou and a half to catch our flight. Except that hor and a half dwindeled down to 45 minutes when the driver insisted our flight departed out of terminal 3 rather than terminal 1. Upon learning of this error, we pulled the I.J. and ran, sprinted, to the first terminal. Terminal: ending, as in terminal illness or terminal delays, or ... You get the point. The whole experience was a terminal nightmare, or anxiety dream. The wrong terminal, terminally long lines, and trouble obtaining boarding passes. Apparently you must showcyour I.D. in order to obtain your pass with Mid-west air. Using your reservation code doesn't work to obtain the boarding pass requiring intervention from airline associates. And then there's the T. S. A. One word: government. They make you wait in a long line until you get close to boarding, then they move you to another line rather than simply being a little more efficient with who they decide looks like a terrorist with profiling anyone. Sigh.

Thankfully the calming voice of a man behind us quelled the pent up anger, frustration and blame that was building between John and I. We made it to the gate just as they were boarding, only to discovervthat we were seated apart.

On to the next leg of our flight, then to Nashville.

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Location:SFO

Graduation

2010-06-17T08:13:00.000-07:00

People today take great pride in exaggerating the importance of life-milestones. The one-year old birthday party of the past was parents with their kids and a cake. That cake might become ever so slightly marred by a tiny hand, but that and some balloons got you to 1. Today, parties involve themes, bouncy houses, mariachi bands and margarita makers. Neighborhoods are invited to celebrate a child's first year. Understated is overrated and bigger is better.

My eight grade graduation centered around my dress. What was I going to wear? Would my parents shell out the money for a Laura Ashley or Jessica McClintock lacey dress so popular in that day? As it turned out, three of my friends wore the exact same dress, but it wasn't a Hollywood disaster as they all felt beautiful. I did get my dress and at the end of the graduation I felt joy and fear. I had been at the top of the heap and could only anticipate what it would be like to start fresh. Would I be able to wipe the slate clean and create a new me, or would my current rep follow me?

Last night I rode up to Kelly's house where he was hosting an 8th grade graduation party for his daughter Madison. I've known Maddy since she was a thought bubble. I've watched her grow from a petulant and challenging child to a beautiful young woman. Her party last night fell on the understated side. She wanted to celebrate with her adult friends. So we gathered together for a lovely meal prepared by her mom and dad, their new partners, and their friends. Maybe we've taken a step back from the opulence of the New Milennium and stepped back to enjoy the things that are truly important, friends and family.

like a kid again

2010-06-16T09:24:00.000-07:00

I am LOVING the bike. I could not wait to get home and go for a long ride. I had some errands to run and started calling book stores in the area to see if they had the book I wanted. Unfortunately the stores furthest away did not have what I was looking for, so I zipped down the street and around the block. I locked up, dashed in, paid and dashed out. I zipped back up and around to the market and back home, only to receive a call from Kirsten inviting me to my favorite bar down the street.

Kirsten's mom passed away suddenly on Monday night and I wanted to spend time with her and her new friend John. I whipped up dinner from TJs and then hopped back on the bike. Heart and Dagger is a biker bar, so I felt like I fit right in - bike, tattoo...

With my new and trusty lights (head and tail) I rode on down without a care in the world. Once we wrapped up, I hopped on and rode back home, hair blowing in the breeze, taking in the intoxicating smell of summer jasmin.

When do I get to ride again?

Like a Vacation

2010-06-15T07:39:00.001-07:00

Another warm night and John had the night off. John whipped up a batch of mojitos, tossed cheese and crackers in a platter, and kicked on the heat lamp. I pulled out the scrabble board and we sat outside and enjoyed our new backyard. The warmth of the heat lamp, the smell of jasmine, a cocktail in hand, it felt like a vacation.

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Mama buzz

2010-06-14T07:54:00.000-07:00

We woke up early Sunday deciding to take advantage of the unusual summer weather. We hopped on our bikes and rode downtown, taking acright on Telegraph.

Mama Buzz cafe is a tiny space with a covered patio- clearly catering to locals, you can wheel you fold up bike in with nary a glance. Screamo music blared as we entered the cafe. Food was plentiful as we chowed down on the "original", with a side order of Facon.

Afterwards we zipped back home and wrapped our morning with acrousing game of Scrabble.

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BIMBO

2010-06-13T08:20:00.000-07:00

It was unusual to go into San Francisco in a long summer tank dress with only a sweater. Normally, even in the "summer", we dress like it's fall, a wool jacket, long pants and a sweater. Last night was an exception. We Bay Areans were treated to a rare summer warm trend (that's more than one day), where the mercury rose over 65 degrees. It was 90 in Oakland and I could barely pull myself off of the couch after a short bike ride.

At 4:30 I hopped in the car to get to BART. The trains were full as people were crowding in to go to PacBell Park to see the Bay Bridge Series, the A's played the Giants (Giants won-Again!) I was on my way to North Beach to see Salif Keitah, a Malian musician here on a rare appearance.

I walked straight through from the Financial District up through the edge of China Town and into North Beach. Having spent time on the East Coast and in Europe in the summer, last night reminded me of that. The sidewalk seating is normally barren, or heat lamps are scattered to keep the tourists warm as they shiver in their shorts in June. But last night the outdoor seating was full and tourists and natives alike enjoyed the warm city night.

I

love African music, the drums, the polyrhythms, the melodies. Salif, without speaking to the packed audience the entire night, put on a rousing show. There was no "type" at this show, and the only disappointment was for the people who arrived early enough to get a seat at a table. Their views were blocked during the hour and a half performance as the dance floor became packed and people moved and swayed to the music.

After the show we went back to La Trappe (we had been there earlier for dinner) and grabbed another Belgian brew downstairs in the cave, again reminding me of something distinctly European - Le Caveau in Paris. Like a good bridge-n-tunneler, I hopped back on BART for my ride home, my sweater draped lightly over my shoulders, still enjoying the warm, summer night.

birthdaze

2010-06-12T08:11:00.000-07:00

Mine is over yes, but there are still plenty of birthdays left to celebrate this month. Thank goodness for June. It allows me to tag along with all of the other June babies. Yesterday was cousin Rebecca's birthday. Her best friend, Sydney, is the rabbi at Temple Emanuel, my old haunts. Sydney hosted a gathering at her house post Shabbat Service. I made it to the service abut half way through - the place was packed, and it was just old foggies. There were plenty of young (30's) people there. It was a departure from my synagogue, as large as it is, where the average age of the attendee is probably 65 or 70. The ambiance is different to say the least. I really enjoyed the energy of Emanuel and made me wonder what we, Sinai, could do differently to get more young Jewish adults involved.

So we gathered at the Rebbe's (I suppose Rebbe could be both Rebecca and Rabbi). My cousin Josh was also there, which is why I realized that I could continue to share my birthday with my other Junies throughout the month. Josh, and his brother (my cousin) Gabe share the 17th. That takes the birthday celebration into full mid-month. Vince, my friend in LA is 6/21. Now I just need to find some folks at the very end of the month.

Pot luck

2010-06-10T07:39:00.001-07:00

Temple Sinai's year end pot luck was last night. It's a time where we celebrate our accomplishments and discuss the next years activities.

I brought a healthy salad, Helen brought her "famous" cabbage salad, Alyce had a turkey jambalaya, and there were other assorted goodies including Betty-annes chocolate pudding cake.

Lately I've felt disconnected from the synagogue, my agnosticism overruling my sense of interest in social action through Judaism. These small events pull me back and make me feel connected again. I realize I'm only going to get out what I put in.

I'm excited to help with an upcoming speaker series featuring social responsibility and to the new year ahead.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A wake

2010-06-08T07:46:00.001-07:00

Fred's mother passed away a week ago at 88. She never had a drink of alcohol in her entire lifetime. She was fiercely religious, and ruled her house with a leather belt and fingers that could tug a small body from under a dining room table with the tug of an ear.

Fred's relationship with her was strained for a time, but eventually smoothed over to a point where they spent their adult time together laughing, all the time.

Last night, after a two and a half hour service, Fred got to share his memories with his friends and revel in the memories of the woman he feared as a child, loathed as a young adult, and grew to love as a man.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Walkin' the Bridge Capt'n

2010-06-06T19:59:00.000-07:00

One might think that growing up in the Bay Area one would not be precluded from walking the Golden Gate Bridge, but for some reason, it simply never happened. Perhaps it just seemed too touristy; I mean, it's practically a requirement to wear a Fisherman's Wharf sweatshirt while crossing. The truth is, I just never made the time.

Fortunately, taking a cue from my "doing different" craziness, my "evil" step-brother suggested we make a go of it. This morning we set out on foot to cross the bridge. Nice weather had been predicted, but what "they" didn't say was that we should take into account "June Gloom", aka, Fog. We were totally socked in. That didn't deter us. We met on the North East side of the bridge and knew that our reward was brunch at the Dipsea Cafe. We had to get to the end and back or else we wouldn't eat--and I was famished.

As we walked through the fog, I kept peeking over the side to try spotting sea lions, or sharks (they're out there!) I didn't see much except kelp being pulled out of the bay into the ocean. The views were sadly marred by the fog, but we still spotted outriggers and boats with their sails flying, as they all disappeared into the fog below. The fog horn sounded frequently adding to the mystery, and had the bridge been devoid of cars racing past, it would have felt scary and romantic. But the cars kept us firmly grounded in reality as they roared by.

We finished up our day at the Dipsea. Navigating the Stinson Beach traffic and Dipsea parking lot were the most harrowing part of our trip. We found our way to a large, open table and enjoyed the brunch, filling our empty tummies as the sun finally pushed through the fog.

Bitter Critter

2010-06-06T07:43:00.000-07:00

Saturday night a gang of eight gathered for dinner at B Restaurant in old Oakland. The downtown restaurant scene is thriving and I wanted to tick off another restaurant from my list. John made a rare appearance which made the evening special.

The restaurant had received good Yelp reviews so I was feeling optimistic. Here's what they didn't say on Yelp: they have one oven for pizza in which they can fit only three at a time. So what happens when you have a table of eight who want four different pizzas? What they didn't do is tell us that up front so we could order something different, instead we had our table set for four pizzas and then one came out. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. Finally they brought out steak (on the house) because we had been waiting for so long. About a half hour later two more pizzas came out, and then finally, the third. Thankfully conversation flowed, but the food delay was frustrating.

The pizzas were delicious though, thin crust, interesting toppings. We ordered the olive pizza which had artichoke hearts and other goodies, the potato pizza, the margharita pizza and one other, plus two orders of truffled fries. But first we started with their delicious cocktails. I had an updated margarita made with grapefruit juice. Dale and Sue had a "Love" cocktail with raspberries, Kaya and John had a gin and cucumber refreshers, and Kate had a lemony-snickett, an updated mojito. The drinks were fabulous. We topped off the night with three desserts: pound cake, pot du creme, and peach cobbler.Each dessert was fantastic.

But the food was overshadowed by the company when conversation switched from golf (john and tom) to John's new studio. The discussion turned to the name. What were we going to call the new studio? Options: Studio 589, Studio 294.5 (it's half the size of the house), or, Bitter Critter? Bitter Critter named after one of Sue's songs. The restaurant was smart to sequester us in the back because at the mere mention of Bitter Critter, Sue and Pete began rapping the lyrics. After that, there was no stopping the entire table from chanting, "bitter, critter, read about her on twitter" which carried us out to the street as we said our good byes.

Alas, birth-week is nearly over. Just one-or two more events and that will be it until next year.

Girlz Nite

2010-06-06T07:32:00.000-07:00

Friday night Kirsten and I met to see Sex And The City 2 (SATC). When the series was on t.v. we'd discuss episodes and talk about the girls like they were our friends. I don't think that this experience was unique to us, because when the first film released, people talked about how much they enjoyed seeing their friends again. It was sort of the same with #2, but not quite. Maybe this time, too much time had passed, or maybe we expected our friends to evolve a bit more. It was probably Samantha's character that was most disappointing. She's now 52, going through menopause, and still acting as though she's in her 20's or 30's. I think that many women today are accepting of her life-style choice, but the overt sexuality seemed a little sad. I think we want to see Samantha lively and vibrant but not whoreish. I probably relate most to Carrie. She wants to stay relevant, fun, fashionable & desirable and she struggles with becoming "an old married couple". In the end she realizes that staying home with her husband is okay.

After the movie, Kirsten and I went to my favorite biker-bar where we sat outside on the patio and enjoyed the warm summer night. We got an opportunity to have good "girl-time" and catch up without the boyfriend or husband, or kid to encumber our conversation. It felt like the perfect way to end the evening.

Happy Hour(s)

2010-06-03T21:15:00.001-07:00

Some times you just need an adult beverage. This normally occurs some time after 5 p.m. (Pacific, in my case). Today simply followed that rule. 5:20 p.m., my nerves were fried, co-workers gathered at Infusion Lounge in SF (Ellis & Powell) to celebrate a colleague's entrepreneurial venture, another who took another position internally, and, I inserted my week-long celebration, my birth week.

I was able to shame my colleague into ponying up for my first round - why not? So I drank and chatted, and drank and chatted, and finally, when I could drink no more, I hitched a ride with my friend Lenore, who chauffeured me back to BART - no, I wasn't drunk (MOM!), but it was nice to get the ride back across the bridge with a little "private time" to catch up on - stuff. The birth-week continues tomorrow with "Girl's Night". We'll view SATC then hit the local biker bar. Vive le birth-week!

Flour+Water

2010-06-02T20:24:00.001-07:00

The Chronicle Top 100 restaurant list included a new-ish restaurant, Flour+Water. Knowing that my dear foodie friends, Robyn, Susan & Chris would jump at an opportunity to try some place new and fabulous, I made reservations. It's what "we" do best. "We", as in birthday girls (and J.A.P.s) are experts. Fortunately, for this is a "hot", new restaurant, I was able to book something for this night.

Normally I'd take public transport, but not today-like a real city-girl I hopped a Yellow Cab and enjoyed the Urdu radio station - a little "Bollywood-like" music (there must be a better expression) blaring.

Being my birth-Day, and wanting to try something new, I opted for the halibut cheeks. Ok, I hear the moans and groans coming loud and clear through the speakers. But wait! They were delicious! They had the texture of a scallop and they were crispy on the outside, and flakey, and buttery. I then had a thin, house-made spinach pasta with clams and mussels, and then I shared a chocolate budino.

To sum up the experience, visualize this: me, at the computer, typing, shirt untucked, pants unzipped, slouched down really, really low. I'm pressing "Publish Post"now, but I may never get up from this seat again...

pre-Birth(day)

2010-06-02T07:28:00.001-07:00

I met Sarah in Larkspur at the Lark Creek Tavern, the renovated Lark Creek Inn. I have no idea how, but in all the years there, feeling that Bradley Ogden and I had been somehow long-lost foodie friends, I had never made it to the LCI to eat (quel horreur!) Last night's dinner was a lovely melange of flavours. We started with a beet salad, perhaps a tad light on the dressing, but very flavorful, then we had a blue cheese souffle (cheesy-souffle-y goodness), and then quinoa cakes in some type of delicious squash ragout. Finally, for dessert, we had the most delicious, creamy butterscotch pudding.

Sarah gave me the most beautiful little earrings (presh-ious), which I'm wearing today. Tonight - more food!

Birthweek begins

2010-05-31T20:59:00.000-07:00

Birthday, schmirthday. I believe in an entire week of celebration. I think it may even extend to a 10 day period. Why celebrate a day, when you can take a week?

I started with a warm-up on Friday night, joining Robyn, Susan, Lady & Carol for a nice meal at Robyn and Susan's house. Saturday I rested, and then Sunday, I took myself on a shopping spree. All of the pent-up shopping frustration, known as DSB (dangerous shopping build-up) was released with the flip of a credit card and a Half-Yearly Sale at Nordstrom. Finally, finally, even after a full-day shopping Marathon in Las Vegas, did I feel sated. I came home, spent - literally.

Knowing that I couldn't bear to bring myself to go out to dinner, nor could I "cook", I hollered (by way of text) over to my own personal "Kramer" and asked him to join us for a cocktail in our back-yard. Kramer skidded onto our patio and I poured a modified "Wendylicious-tini", popped a Viccolo's corn meal crust pizza in the oven, and then sat back and enjoyed the warm nearly-summer night (with heat-lamp).

So as to not let the birthweek celebration grind to a halt, we joined friends Lance and Chris for a delicious brunch at their house: eggs benny, veggie strata - aka Eric eStrada, fried potatoes and scones - YUM! And because John will be working all week, I made sure we went out for a nice dinner on College Ave at Sommerset.

Vive Le Birthweek!