Tonight we're going to see some ladies play some tennis. The Bank of the West Classic is this week and weekend down at Stanford and we got tickets for the Friday night quarterfinal, gambling that at least one of the Williams sisters would be in it and there would at least be a chance to see someone else cool.
They announced this morning that we are the winners: the 7pm match will feature Venus Williams vs Maria Sharapova, and also some other people who aren't as hot so we don't care.
The last time I saw professional tennis, or any tennis for that matter, was in 1998 when Jamaica and I were living in London. During Wimbledon, we got re-sold day-of center court tickets. We saw Tim Henman vs someone (Larry? Conrad?) Black. We almost got to see Pete Sampras but it rained.
I was amazed at how much fun it is to watch live tennis, compared to watching it on TV where it is kind of boring. We also honored the Wimbledon tradition of munching on strawberries and cream but in an American girl college student sort of way: fat free vanilla frozen yogurt with strawberries.* Quite.
*We spent the better portion of our time in London freaking out that all they served in coffee shops or anywhere was whole milk, which we referred to as "full-fat" milk; we were at a loss to find skim milk anywhere. This fro-yo option was a miracle.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Talk to the hand
In the shower this morning I realized that I was singing a song in my head over and over.
The song was "Head and Shoulders Knees and Toes."
Even as I realized it, it felt sort of familiar and expected. I wonder if I sing this song in the shower as a sort of checklist to keep me on track as I bathe.
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Something something something ears and nose
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Also, I got yelled at by a police officer on the way in to work today. He was very mean. He was directing traffic in the intersection and he gave me a hand gesture that I interpreted to mean "go" but which was apparently intended to mean "stop." Or "high five." I think it could have gone either way.
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Something something something ears and nose
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
The song was "Head and Shoulders Knees and Toes."
Even as I realized it, it felt sort of familiar and expected. I wonder if I sing this song in the shower as a sort of checklist to keep me on track as I bathe.
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Something something something ears and nose
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Also, I got yelled at by a police officer on the way in to work today. He was very mean. He was directing traffic in the intersection and he gave me a hand gesture that I interpreted to mean "go" but which was apparently intended to mean "stop." Or "high five." I think it could have gone either way.
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Something something something ears and nose
Head and shoulders knees and toes knees and toes
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Bees Knees
For anyone who was curious, this is what it would look like if Eric were a beekeeper and also a game show host.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The Happy Hobo
Last night while we were making dinner, we heard voices rise up from the street.
They weren't angry, drunken voices interspersed with phlegmy hacking and the sound of vomiting, like usual. No, these voices were singing. The tall and the small.* Oh wait...
The singing was kind of old-timey, like bluegrass when it was first getting started. I half expected that if I walked to the window they'd be wearing period costumes and square dancing.**
But I didn't walk to the window because that is almost never a good idea with The Clementina Show. And I had such a lovely, nostalgic image in my head that I was only going to be disappointed when I discovered that the singing was actually coming from a vagrant laying in his own filth, pants mostly pulled down, a half-eaten dead pigeon in one hand.
Instead, we just listened to the happy hobos singing until they drifted off.
*One hundred gold stars for anyone who is with me on what I think is a pretty obscure reference.
**Additional gold stars available if anyone knows of neat square dancing events in San Francisco. I have a feeling that that could be fun.
They weren't angry, drunken voices interspersed with phlegmy hacking and the sound of vomiting, like usual. No, these voices were singing. The tall and the small.* Oh wait...
The singing was kind of old-timey, like bluegrass when it was first getting started. I half expected that if I walked to the window they'd be wearing period costumes and square dancing.**
But I didn't walk to the window because that is almost never a good idea with The Clementina Show. And I had such a lovely, nostalgic image in my head that I was only going to be disappointed when I discovered that the singing was actually coming from a vagrant laying in his own filth, pants mostly pulled down, a half-eaten dead pigeon in one hand.
Instead, we just listened to the happy hobos singing until they drifted off.
*One hundred gold stars for anyone who is with me on what I think is a pretty obscure reference.
**Additional gold stars available if anyone knows of neat square dancing events in San Francisco. I have a feeling that that could be fun.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Just say don't
Eric and I went for a hike Sunday morning. The one we chose was about six miles long and was one of those neat multi-ecosystem hikes where you go from walking along the end of a lake, to walking through a dense redwood forest, to walking through head-high scrubby bushes, to walking along a grassy ridge, and then back down into a eucalyptus forest to the water and to the car.
Despite the gloomy 50 degree weather on the Clementina Show, it was sunny and hot out on the trail and we were quickly sweaty, dusty and hot. As we walked along the water, its shimmering wateriness became almost unbearably appealing. This was no doubt exacerbated by the "No Swimming - Citations Will Be Issued" signs every 100 yards because the lake is actually a drinking water reservoir for the local area.
We finally came to a secluded spot in the shade where we could see through the crystal clear water all the way to the bottom, about ten feet. It was a natural swimming hole and it was crying out to be swimmed in.*
I looked at Eric. He looked at me. We both looked around. And then we stripped down and dipped our skinnies in the drink.
It was extremely refreshing.
We splashed around for a minute, reveling in our naughtiness and in the gloriously cool clear water. Then, when we'd had the moment, we high-tailed it out and dressed as fast as we could before anyone with a citation book came along looking to exercise his pen.
And for the record, neither of us peed.
*Swum in??
Despite the gloomy 50 degree weather on the Clementina Show, it was sunny and hot out on the trail and we were quickly sweaty, dusty and hot. As we walked along the water, its shimmering wateriness became almost unbearably appealing. This was no doubt exacerbated by the "No Swimming - Citations Will Be Issued" signs every 100 yards because the lake is actually a drinking water reservoir for the local area.
We finally came to a secluded spot in the shade where we could see through the crystal clear water all the way to the bottom, about ten feet. It was a natural swimming hole and it was crying out to be swimmed in.*
I looked at Eric. He looked at me. We both looked around. And then we stripped down and dipped our skinnies in the drink.
It was extremely refreshing.
We splashed around for a minute, reveling in our naughtiness and in the gloriously cool clear water. Then, when we'd had the moment, we high-tailed it out and dressed as fast as we could before anyone with a citation book came along looking to exercise his pen.
And for the record, neither of us peed.
*Swum in??
Friday, July 24, 2009
Babaghanoush Express
Last night, after a failed attempt to make homemade babaghanoush and a messy carrot cake-making incident, we watched "Midnight Express" on Netflix 'Watch Now.' We chose that over "Who's Harry Crumb?" and "What about Bob" and I feel confident that it was the right choice.
For those who haven't seen it, 'Midnight Express' harkens back to the days when synthesizers were the hot new thing and the occasional intensely homoerotic scene was simply what viewers expected from movies set in Turkish prisons. It was entertaining, if a bit long, and more fun that dealing with all the dishes.
I don't know if it was the similarity in name, the synthesizer music, or both, but I kept discovering that the music from 'Starlight Express' was running around in my head.
If you're not familiar with Starlight Express, it was an Andrew Lloyd Webber rock musical that featured actors on rollerblades singing about trains or something. My brother, father and aunt Barbara went to see it when it came to Chicago at some point in the late 80s and boy did we love it! My aunt Barbara even gave my brother and me the original cast recording audio tape soundtrack which, as we quickly discovered, was in German because that's where the musical debuted. We liked it a lot anyway.
This video gives you just a taste. It really starts heating up around 2:15 min into it.
For those who haven't seen it, 'Midnight Express' harkens back to the days when synthesizers were the hot new thing and the occasional intensely homoerotic scene was simply what viewers expected from movies set in Turkish prisons. It was entertaining, if a bit long, and more fun that dealing with all the dishes.
I don't know if it was the similarity in name, the synthesizer music, or both, but I kept discovering that the music from 'Starlight Express' was running around in my head.
If you're not familiar with Starlight Express, it was an Andrew Lloyd Webber rock musical that featured actors on rollerblades singing about trains or something. My brother, father and aunt Barbara went to see it when it came to Chicago at some point in the late 80s and boy did we love it! My aunt Barbara even gave my brother and me the original cast recording audio tape soundtrack which, as we quickly discovered, was in German because that's where the musical debuted. We liked it a lot anyway.
This video gives you just a taste. It really starts heating up around 2:15 min into it.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Other people's love letters
The Clementina Show had a cameo a few weeks ago from a gentleman, who we'll call Eddie Burris here for the protection of everyone involved (mostly me).
Mr. Burris has recently been released from a local prison and one of the things he did upon his release was to spread a bunch of his personal papers on the sidewalk in front of our apartment building.
It isn't unusual for there to be a lot of trash and papers in front of our building, so for the most part we didn't notice anything unusual. Until Eric picked up a handwritten letter on college-ruled notebook paper and brought it inside.
Here is what that letter said:
I think you will agree, this is pretty raw stuff.
Mr. Burris has recently been released from a local prison and one of the things he did upon his release was to spread a bunch of his personal papers on the sidewalk in front of our apartment building.
It isn't unusual for there to be a lot of trash and papers in front of our building, so for the most part we didn't notice anything unusual. Until Eric picked up a handwritten letter on college-ruled notebook paper and brought it inside.
Here is what that letter said:
Dear Eddie,
So today is Sunday. I woke up really early this morning and made my kids breakfast, washed the dishes. Got the kids dressed and then waited for my mom the get dressed. We went tot he plunge in Hayward. They have a nice swimming pool and a beautiful hiking trail. It was really scary because the hiking trail had steep hills and cliffs. You have to really stay on the toddlers about that kind of stuff.
So, so far you haven't got any word from your other girlfriend. That's good I guess. I fell like you wouldn't tell me even if you did. Naw - you would tell me. You are pretty honest.
Sometimes I tend to direct the conversation in a negative direction. That's when you supposed to kiss me on the lips. Or just stop me from doing what ever it is that I am doing and give me a hug + kiss my neck. I need validation.
I wish I could have come to see you today but I didn't have the gas. I will be there next weekend though, I hope. I have to do that extra credit deal for biology next Saturday and it is an all day thing to visit you on Sunday.
You know something Eddie I think that I am a control freak. I like to control things. But if I would just let shit go and only worry about myself then that is half the battle.
A person only has so much mental capacity then they are just spinning their wheels and worrying about dumb shit.
It's like if a man finds his place with another woman, then it wasn't meant to be in the first place. So, why worry about you and Shaunice.
I'm saying this because I always doubt myself. I feel like I am worthless.
But the truth is that there are plenty of fish in the sea but for some reason I am hung up on you.
I'm telling you. It's the way we busted at the exact same time those times. That is powerful shit. Nothing can compare to that.
But sex is not everything. A person has to be mature enough and willing to take part in certain things.
I mean, shit, you are locked up right now. I don't want that in my life. A person who goes to jail on a regular basis. I have to make better decisions than that. If I was you, I would be pissed because you put 6 months into that job and then you were locked up for another 6 months. That would have been a whole year on your job and we cold have taken a vacation to Las Vegas or something. You can't replace that time.
I didn't do anything to you but anyways counseling would be good. Because you have to learn when to back away from a woman. So that you don't get yourself in trouble. If that woman is acting a fool, get the hell away from her. It's not OK to act like a fool.
Anyways, I'm listening to my new CDs Jay gave me. I like the Jams.
[here, one whole page with I (heart) U written again and again filling the whole page]
I'm waiting on you. You may not want to be with me but I'm not on drugs and won't get back on drugs. I'm holding it down and keeping this pussy on lockdown for Mr. Burris.
[then another page of I (heart) U's, then a whole page of 143*, then another whole page of I (heart) U's]
I think you will agree, this is pretty raw stuff.
Not long after, Eric found another note; different handwriting, different notebook. Different girlfriend. It read:
Dear Eddie,It is hard not to feel kind of horrible and voyeuristic reading someone else's love letters. And we probably should feel horrible for reading them, and I should feel especially horrible for posting them here, because they are private. I hope that by removing the names that privacy can be protected.
It was really nice to see you today. I came home, cleaned up my room and did a little math homework. Now I'm writing to you.
You know my brother and sister are both on dope and it is really scary. I don't want to deal with their drama or bullshit. I had a really peaceful life when I lived over there.
I move here and I got drama from the whole family. I don't really have a choice except to deal with it because I still got that CPS case. My court date is in June and they will probably close it then.
So, now that I know what is going on with you, I can relax. Do my homework, go to church. Visit you. Things will go pretty smoothly. All I gotta do is keep it simple and know what is important to me.
I can't wait to make love to you. You know that right? I love making love to you. I dream about it. You make me melt, Eddie. I don't know why, you just do. I can't wait to kiss you all over, especially your neck. You know what neck I'm talking about, too.
Spring break is next week. So, I will be there to see you next Thursday. I have a small budget, so I have to plan my funds to make it through the month.
My GPA last semester when I lived in Marin was 3.8 :) I'm not doing so good in this new English class this semester but I know I'm making A's in the rest of my classes.
I'm gonna get this in the mail. I love you and I can't wait to make love to you again.
Love, [name withheld - but it wasn't Shaunice]
I find these letters fascinating. They offer a glimpse into a reality that is so completely different from the one that I, and probably everyone I know, live in. The day to day lives of these women are clearly challenging in ways that I probably don't even begin to understand.
What I love about these, and what makes them so hard to stop reading, is how both of these women lay themselves so bare in these letters. There is a vulnerability and a reaching out that is hard not to be moved by.
We've been watching the Clementina Show with interest lately to see if Eddie will make an appearance, but I think he may have already moved on.
*For those who aren't with it enough to know what "143"means, it means "I love you": I has 1 letter, love has 4 and you has 3.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Om-en
I went to the far away yoga last night because I have 7 classes left to use on a class pass in not many more days.
These yoga classes sometimes feel a lot like church with exercises. Especially the ones on Sunday mornings, but a lot of the other ones, too. What with the chanting and the energy of all these people moving and breathing together, it can become a very intense and emotional experience that could definitely be confused with something spiritual. The fact that the far away yoga (Yoga Tree in the Castro - 20 min bike ride each way) draws such a large crowd (over 100 people sometimes, maybe more) seems to magnify that, too.
Last night, it was packed. I got there oh just a few minutes late and stepped quietly into the very large studio just as they were starting the chanting. I gazed around the room and I swear to you I could not see a square inch of floor: it was mat to mat. I expected they were going to have to turn me away, but the class assistant crept over towards me during the chanting and indicated that he would help me find a spot after the pranayama (breathing exercises) which made me excited because I was about to see a magic trick.
I watched his experienced eye scan the room slowly and then lock on a row that looked to me pretty much as full as any other row. After the breathing exercise he walked me over there and made about 12 people all squeeze even more tightly together so that I could wedge my mat into the newly created space. My mat was touching the mats on either side of me.
I guess the magic part was when I tried to pretend that I hadn't gotten any irritated looks from my new neighbors as we launched together into the practice.
After a few minutes of downward facing warm-ups we did our first standing pose and I will it admit it was quite extraordinary to see all those human bodies joining together in Warrior 1 to the sound of Krishna Das (who, I will also admit, I am a total sucker for).
I was moved.
If going to church were this effective at core strenthening and muscle toning, I would have gotten a religion membership a long time ago.
These yoga classes sometimes feel a lot like church with exercises. Especially the ones on Sunday mornings, but a lot of the other ones, too. What with the chanting and the energy of all these people moving and breathing together, it can become a very intense and emotional experience that could definitely be confused with something spiritual. The fact that the far away yoga (Yoga Tree in the Castro - 20 min bike ride each way) draws such a large crowd (over 100 people sometimes, maybe more) seems to magnify that, too.
Last night, it was packed. I got there oh just a few minutes late and stepped quietly into the very large studio just as they were starting the chanting. I gazed around the room and I swear to you I could not see a square inch of floor: it was mat to mat. I expected they were going to have to turn me away, but the class assistant crept over towards me during the chanting and indicated that he would help me find a spot after the pranayama (breathing exercises) which made me excited because I was about to see a magic trick.
I watched his experienced eye scan the room slowly and then lock on a row that looked to me pretty much as full as any other row. After the breathing exercise he walked me over there and made about 12 people all squeeze even more tightly together so that I could wedge my mat into the newly created space. My mat was touching the mats on either side of me.
I guess the magic part was when I tried to pretend that I hadn't gotten any irritated looks from my new neighbors as we launched together into the practice.
After a few minutes of downward facing warm-ups we did our first standing pose and I will it admit it was quite extraordinary to see all those human bodies joining together in Warrior 1 to the sound of Krishna Das (who, I will also admit, I am a total sucker for).
I was moved.
If going to church were this effective at core strenthening and muscle toning, I would have gotten a religion membership a long time ago.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Summer is here
I had to wear my down coat and gloves to ride my bike to work this morning. That's how you know that it is summer in San Francisco.
Yesterday was equally chilly and horrible but I got to drive to work because I had to go to a doctor's appointment across town that was not at all bikeable by a reasonable person in professional clothing. As a side note, the patient intake form at the doctor's office asked me for my religion which I haven't seen before.* I wonder how that would affect the care that I would receive.
Last night we could see the lights on at the baseball stadium and had a moment of "that's too bad" slash "ha ha sucks for you" for the people attending the game. As we watched, the fog thickened and settled heavily into the stadium.
I could hear the tomatoes whimpering on the roof.
*Maybe because I almost never go to the doctor?
Yesterday was equally chilly and horrible but I got to drive to work because I had to go to a doctor's appointment across town that was not at all bikeable by a reasonable person in professional clothing. As a side note, the patient intake form at the doctor's office asked me for my religion which I haven't seen before.* I wonder how that would affect the care that I would receive.
Last night we could see the lights on at the baseball stadium and had a moment of "that's too bad" slash "ha ha sucks for you" for the people attending the game. As we watched, the fog thickened and settled heavily into the stadium.
I could hear the tomatoes whimpering on the roof.
*Maybe because I almost never go to the doctor?
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Slipped out
Eric's sister Lisa and her husband Matt visited us in San Francisco this weekend so we did our best to show them all that the Bay Area has to offer.
We did an extended walking tour of the city on Saturday which included a stop in Union Square. Much to our surprise and delight Ben & Jerry's was doing a free ice cream giveaway in Union Square that day and we all got to try their new "Flipped Out!" ice cream bar gimmick product. It looks like a little cup of ice cream and you peel the top off, flip it over into the perfectly sized little paper bowl, and then it is like a brownie sundae thing with brownie on the bottom, ice cream in the middle, and caramel and chocolate on the top. It's actually quite good.*
We sat there enjoying our Flipped Out!'s on the steps in the square along with hundreds of others doing the same. There was a young fellow next to us talking to a friend and he started reading off the nutrition facts from the label.
"14 grams of fat, 380 calories, 4 grams..."
"Hey! Pipe down!" I jokingly shouted at him.
He clearly didn't appreciate my humor; instead, he froze as if I had slapped him. I felt horrible. He was probably 14 years old. He might have been on a "date" with the young woman he was sitting with. I am a mean person.
"I'm sorry - that sounded a little harsh. Please - carry on," I tried to fix it but the damage had been done.
I didn't hear him say another word the whole time we sat there.
*If you've ever wondered if those free giveaways are worth it for companies, consider the amount of airtime I have now given them for free. Well, for free ice cream.
We did an extended walking tour of the city on Saturday which included a stop in Union Square. Much to our surprise and delight Ben & Jerry's was doing a free ice cream giveaway in Union Square that day and we all got to try their new "Flipped Out!" ice cream bar gimmick product. It looks like a little cup of ice cream and you peel the top off, flip it over into the perfectly sized little paper bowl, and then it is like a brownie sundae thing with brownie on the bottom, ice cream in the middle, and caramel and chocolate on the top. It's actually quite good.*
We sat there enjoying our Flipped Out!'s on the steps in the square along with hundreds of others doing the same. There was a young fellow next to us talking to a friend and he started reading off the nutrition facts from the label.
"14 grams of fat, 380 calories, 4 grams..."
"Hey! Pipe down!" I jokingly shouted at him.
He clearly didn't appreciate my humor; instead, he froze as if I had slapped him. I felt horrible. He was probably 14 years old. He might have been on a "date" with the young woman he was sitting with. I am a mean person.
"I'm sorry - that sounded a little harsh. Please - carry on," I tried to fix it but the damage had been done.
I didn't hear him say another word the whole time we sat there.
*If you've ever wondered if those free giveaways are worth it for companies, consider the amount of airtime I have now given them for free. Well, for free ice cream.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Home style
Last Friday was the unveiling of the home brew.
Verdict: delicious.
And strong.
Eric, being a planner and also being extremely eager to try out our first batch of moonshine had been smart enough to put a few bottles in the fridge the night before so that when we both landed at home Friday evening after work they were cold and ready to go.
Our beer is bottle-conditioned so you need to pour it into a glass in one motion, never tipping the bottle back (once you do the yeast and sediment collected on the bottom mixes with the liquid and is no longer at maximum deliciousness).
We cracked open two bottles and smoothly poured them into two glasses.
We studied it carefully in the glass. "Looks like beer!" we thought.
We sniffed it. "Smells like beer!" we observed.
We sipped it. "Tastes like beer!"
"It IS beer!"
And darn good beer, too! Very hoppy, but nicely balanced. Some bottles have a little extra "grassiness" in the aftertaste. You see, each bottle is a little different, just to keep things interesting.
We are calling it Tiger Towel Ale in honor of the ridiculous towel with a white tiger sitting on top of the earth which kept out the ruinous light while it fermented in our hallway next to the washing machine.
We don't have labels yet but if we did it would be this:
Verdict: delicious.
And strong.
Eric, being a planner and also being extremely eager to try out our first batch of moonshine had been smart enough to put a few bottles in the fridge the night before so that when we both landed at home Friday evening after work they were cold and ready to go.
Our beer is bottle-conditioned so you need to pour it into a glass in one motion, never tipping the bottle back (once you do the yeast and sediment collected on the bottom mixes with the liquid and is no longer at maximum deliciousness).
We cracked open two bottles and smoothly poured them into two glasses.
We studied it carefully in the glass. "Looks like beer!" we thought.
We sniffed it. "Smells like beer!" we observed.
We sipped it. "Tastes like beer!"
"It IS beer!"
And darn good beer, too! Very hoppy, but nicely balanced. Some bottles have a little extra "grassiness" in the aftertaste. You see, each bottle is a little different, just to keep things interesting.
We are calling it Tiger Towel Ale in honor of the ridiculous towel with a white tiger sitting on top of the earth which kept out the ruinous light while it fermented in our hallway next to the washing machine.
We don't have labels yet but if we did it would be this:
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Clips show
This is a tough week for blogging and I feel like I'm barely holding it together - my days have been so full they feel as though they keep spilling into one another.
So today's post is the equivalent of a clips show, which I think was some sitcom producer's intern's idea for how to not just do a rerun when the cast was on vacation.
Here are a few of the things that are on my mind today:
My company is helping Wal-Mart revolutionize how we consume goods and this is now public for the first time. Check it out! It is big.
On the cover of the USA Today outside my hotel room door yesterday morning was this article about smart, college-educated folks going into small-scale organic farming. Further proof that I am not nearly as original as I would like to think that I am.
In case you didn't see it or get it from at least five people like I did, this commencement speech by Paul Hawken to the University of Portland class of 2009 is worth reading.
I get to pick the next beer we brew. Here's the list of recipes offered by our local beer ingredient supply shop. Lawnmower ale is the current front-runner but other suggestions will be considered.
I'm fantasizing about buying a motorcycle. (Don't tell my mom.) Maybe a blue one with a funny stripe?
So today's post is the equivalent of a clips show, which I think was some sitcom producer's intern's idea for how to not just do a rerun when the cast was on vacation.
Here are a few of the things that are on my mind today:
My company is helping Wal-Mart revolutionize how we consume goods and this is now public for the first time. Check it out! It is big.
On the cover of the USA Today outside my hotel room door yesterday morning was this article about smart, college-educated folks going into small-scale organic farming. Further proof that I am not nearly as original as I would like to think that I am.
In case you didn't see it or get it from at least five people like I did, this commencement speech by Paul Hawken to the University of Portland class of 2009 is worth reading.
I get to pick the next beer we brew. Here's the list of recipes offered by our local beer ingredient supply shop. Lawnmower ale is the current front-runner but other suggestions will be considered.
I'm fantasizing about buying a motorcycle. (Don't tell my mom.) Maybe a blue one with a funny stripe?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
God Bless Us, Every One
Dinner day two in Seattle was ten of us - some colleagues, some clients, and a few other interesting characters as well. I have been craving gnocchi for some unexplained reason and was thrilled to learn that this restaurant, in addition to specializing in gluten-free Italian food, also home-makes their own gnocchi from Yukon Gold potatoes, perplexing me briefly for the moment it took me to remember that gnocchi is made from potatoes.
While not focused on my gnocchi, I enjoyed the conversation of the group. We covered everything from sustainability to other aspects of sustainability and I once again made a mental note to actually learn something about this subject area in which I am asserting expertise.
One exchange that particularly tickled me went like this.
Me: If you could wave a magic wand and affect some change in the world in the service of solving global warming, without just directly solving it, what would you do?
DCTML: Are you familiar with "A Christmas Carol" ?
Me: Yes. So...?
DCTML: I would do that.
Me: [blank stare. what happened to all my gnocchi?]
DCTML: I would bring the Ghost of Climate Change Future to visit everyone in the present and show them the impact that they are having, but while there is still time to change their ways.
Isn't that simply delightful?
A colleague of mine then chimed in that fear is actually not the greatest motivator of human behavioral change and that smokers who were given antidepressants were able to quit because they were happier.
So it seems clear that the solution to global warming lies somewhere between reading more Dickens and putting the world on prozac.
While not focused on my gnocchi, I enjoyed the conversation of the group. We covered everything from sustainability to other aspects of sustainability and I once again made a mental note to actually learn something about this subject area in which I am asserting expertise.
One exchange that particularly tickled me went like this.
Me: If you could wave a magic wand and affect some change in the world in the service of solving global warming, without just directly solving it, what would you do?
DCTML: Are you familiar with "A Christmas Carol" ?
Me: Yes. So...?
DCTML: I would do that.
Me: [blank stare. what happened to all my gnocchi?]
DCTML: I would bring the Ghost of Climate Change Future to visit everyone in the present and show them the impact that they are having, but while there is still time to change their ways.
Isn't that simply delightful?
A colleague of mine then chimed in that fear is actually not the greatest motivator of human behavioral change and that smokers who were given antidepressants were able to quit because they were happier.
So it seems clear that the solution to global warming lies somewhere between reading more Dickens and putting the world on prozac.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
A three hour tour
I got to go on a scenic cruise on Lake Washington last night as part of a conference that I am here in Redmond to attend.
All in all it was quite lovely. Setting sun, glimmering water, tree-lined shore. Seems like it would be an awfully nice place to live, and in fact the boat captain pointed out Bill Gates' house as we passed (there was a 'bouncy-castle' space shuttle inflated in the yard but I missed the explanation for why) and a few other Microsoft VIP's homes.
One thing that I re-discovered is that food on boats is universally and without exception horrible. Last summer on an otherwise really fun Hornblower dinner cruise in San Francisco I had a memorably bad meal that was, in all seriousness, completely uneatable. The pasta may literally have been made of Play-Doh, but not regular Play-Doh, some off-brand kind made in China which is extra toxic.
This boat food was about as good as food served to large quantities of people on a boat can be, at least in my experience. Nonetheless, it is still the kind of food where the only way to feel satisfied is through sheer volume. And that's not actually satisfaction, it's extreme nausea.
I've heard that cruises are known to have great food but they are also known to have that hideous bacteria and lots of people who enjoy cruises on them so I don't think I'll be trying that out any time soon.
One odd thing about last night: I could be wrong, but I am almost positive that the music they were playing on the boat is the same music that they make you listen to while you are on hold waiting for a conference call to start. And I think it had embedded subliminal messages about buying more Chinese Pla-Do.
All in all it was quite lovely. Setting sun, glimmering water, tree-lined shore. Seems like it would be an awfully nice place to live, and in fact the boat captain pointed out Bill Gates' house as we passed (there was a 'bouncy-castle' space shuttle inflated in the yard but I missed the explanation for why) and a few other Microsoft VIP's homes.
One thing that I re-discovered is that food on boats is universally and without exception horrible. Last summer on an otherwise really fun Hornblower dinner cruise in San Francisco I had a memorably bad meal that was, in all seriousness, completely uneatable. The pasta may literally have been made of Play-Doh, but not regular Play-Doh, some off-brand kind made in China which is extra toxic.
This boat food was about as good as food served to large quantities of people on a boat can be, at least in my experience. Nonetheless, it is still the kind of food where the only way to feel satisfied is through sheer volume. And that's not actually satisfaction, it's extreme nausea.
I've heard that cruises are known to have great food but they are also known to have that hideous bacteria and lots of people who enjoy cruises on them so I don't think I'll be trying that out any time soon.
One odd thing about last night: I could be wrong, but I am almost positive that the music they were playing on the boat is the same music that they make you listen to while you are on hold waiting for a conference call to start. And I think it had embedded subliminal messages about buying more Chinese Pla-Do.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Go that way really fast
One of the many adventures of this past weekend was renting a ridiculously powerful motorcycle and driving on it for many, many hours. We went north. We went south. We came across a down home country barbecue and chili cook-off and petted some friendly dogs. We zoomed like the zoomiest.
Check out our hot wheels:
The unexpected epilogue to our badass motorcycle weekend came this morning at the rental car counter when they upgraded me to a gold Mustang. Totally unsolicited. So this week I'll be cruising around Seattle in style.
Check out our hot wheels:
The unexpected epilogue to our badass motorcycle weekend came this morning at the rental car counter when they upgraded me to a gold Mustang. Totally unsolicited. So this week I'll be cruising around Seattle in style.
Friday, July 10, 2009
That's life
Eric did the grocery shopping this week and that almost always involves a few surprises.
One of the surprises this time was the addition of Life cereal to the breakfast roster. This wasn't one of the staples in my house growing up so it was kind of a fun new face at the breakfast table. He got the kind that tastes like cinnamon in addition to tasting like regular Life.
Apparently, it is physically impossible to eat Life cereal for breakfast without saying, at least every other bite,
"S'good."
Eric was so enthralled with this childish phrase that he continued saying it pretty much all day and into the evening. On Wednesday, everything "s'good."
Towards the end of the night, sleepy-eyed and sort of muppet-y, Eric said it a bunch of times in a row, and then burst out laughing.
"Did you hear that?" he asked, wide-eyed and conspiratorial.
"Um..." I didn't get it.
"Squid!"
Further hysterical laughter ensued.
One of the surprises this time was the addition of Life cereal to the breakfast roster. This wasn't one of the staples in my house growing up so it was kind of a fun new face at the breakfast table. He got the kind that tastes like cinnamon in addition to tasting like regular Life.
Apparently, it is physically impossible to eat Life cereal for breakfast without saying, at least every other bite,
"S'good."
Eric was so enthralled with this childish phrase that he continued saying it pretty much all day and into the evening. On Wednesday, everything "s'good."
Towards the end of the night, sleepy-eyed and sort of muppet-y, Eric said it a bunch of times in a row, and then burst out laughing.
"Did you hear that?" he asked, wide-eyed and conspiratorial.
"Um..." I didn't get it.
"Squid!"
Further hysterical laughter ensued.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
I have a birthday coming up. Just saying.
In anticipation of a lot of airport and plane time for the trip last weekend, I wanted to borrow a book to read. One of the books that I've heard is a "must read" for someone in my job is Daniel Goleman's "Ecological Intelligence". He's the guy who wrote "Emotional Intelligence" and I suspected this new book was just a search/replace of emotional for ecological.
I know that a lot of people in my office have read it, or at least skimmed it, and so I started asking around for a copy that I could borrow.
"Have you read Ecological Intelligence?"
"Yeah - a good read. You should check it out."
"Could I borrow it?"
"Oh. It's on my Kindle."
"Oh. I see. I don't have a Kindle. Hmm."
This happened several times just like that. Until:
"Have you read Ecological Intelligence?"
"Yeah - a good read. You should check it out."
"Could I borrow it?"
"Yes. It's on my Kindle. Let me get it for you."
"What? You're lending me your Kindle?"
"Yeah."
"Whoa - are you sure?"
"Yeah. Just give it back when you're done."
So I got to use a Kindle for the weekend and, I must admit, I am completely addicted. There are a few things I don't love - like you can't flip quickly through the pages to see how far to the end of the chapter or to the next neat graphic and you can't use your to do list as a bookmark. It also isn't as good a coaster on the coffee table. But all told, I think it is kind of a magic thing and I really like it. (Would it be awkward to admit that if I had one I think I would have a really hard time lending it out?)
Oh - and Ecological Intelligence is very much worth a quick read except that it is one of those books that makes you think about many scary things that would be much more comfortable not to think about. Even so - you should read it.
I know that a lot of people in my office have read it, or at least skimmed it, and so I started asking around for a copy that I could borrow.
"Have you read Ecological Intelligence?"
"Yeah - a good read. You should check it out."
"Could I borrow it?"
"Oh. It's on my Kindle."
"Oh. I see. I don't have a Kindle. Hmm."
This happened several times just like that. Until:
"Have you read Ecological Intelligence?"
"Yeah - a good read. You should check it out."
"Could I borrow it?"
"Yes. It's on my Kindle. Let me get it for you."
"What? You're lending me your Kindle?"
"Yeah."
"Whoa - are you sure?"
"Yeah. Just give it back when you're done."
So I got to use a Kindle for the weekend and, I must admit, I am completely addicted. There are a few things I don't love - like you can't flip quickly through the pages to see how far to the end of the chapter or to the next neat graphic and you can't use your to do list as a bookmark. It also isn't as good a coaster on the coffee table. But all told, I think it is kind of a magic thing and I really like it. (Would it be awkward to admit that if I had one I think I would have a really hard time lending it out?)
Oh - and Ecological Intelligence is very much worth a quick read except that it is one of those books that makes you think about many scary things that would be much more comfortable not to think about. Even so - you should read it.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Un-giving up on the garden
The garden on my roof, also known as Rooty Rooftop, has been, how you say, a great learning experience. Let me bring you up to speed.
First, I built a garden on my roof from scratch:
The wind howled relentlessly.
It wasn't long before everything had gone to seed or died.
First, I built a garden on my roof from scratch:
Then I planted seeds in it. I had high hopes! I planted many glorious things like lettuce, cabbage, broccoli, tomatoes, cauliflower, chard, spinach, et cetera.
And lots of them grew!
The wind howled relentlessly.
It wasn't long before everything had gone to seed or died.
It was sad and frustrating. I let it go wild for a while, stopped watering it, and then dug almost all of it up and sent it back to the compost heap.
I then proceeded to completely forget about it for a little while. Sometimes I'm not good with learning experiences.
But then one day I went up there to pick some of the sole survivor - cilantro, which had turned purple but was otherwise still sort of viable - and noticed something amazing: there were little tomatoes on the otherwise completely dead-looking tomato plants. 
What a miracle!
So now I am un-giving up on the garden. I've started watering it again and I pulled out all the junk. Lettuce seems to be able to grow up there reasonably well up there so I planted a bunch and am now thinking about Rooty Rooftop as our own private, fresh - if limited selection - salad bar.
I'm learning.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Fan club
Yesterday afternoon I was sitting in my office, minding my own business, when suddenly the ceiling fan in my office turned on and started spinning.
"I have a ceiling fan?" I thought to myself. I'm fairly sure this is new. It's very shiny.
I watched it for a moment. It was on. Fanning away. I sat there and looked around: I was alone in the office and no one was near the door. I stood up, walked to the door of my office and peered outside.
Nobody.
It had been a little stuffy in my office, so I just nodded at the fan, sat down and went back to work.
Time passed. I got chilly. It was time for the fan to be turned off. But how?
I decided to ask our new office manager Linda who started last Thursday and was camped out in the office next to me. Because, having been with us for one and a half days, she was clearly going to be the best person to ask for help. More importantly, she was the first person I came across upon venturing out from my office.
I had barely gotten five words out of my mouth when she burst out laughing. Apparently, much earlier in the day and all the way across the office in the supply room, she and Emily had found a homeless remote control and pressed all the buttons, joking about how they were probably opening and closing someone's garage door somewhere.
She went and got the remote and we tested it: sure enough, fan on, fan off, fan on, fan off.
Case closed.
"I have a ceiling fan?" I thought to myself. I'm fairly sure this is new. It's very shiny.
I watched it for a moment. It was on. Fanning away. I sat there and looked around: I was alone in the office and no one was near the door. I stood up, walked to the door of my office and peered outside.
Nobody.
It had been a little stuffy in my office, so I just nodded at the fan, sat down and went back to work.
Time passed. I got chilly. It was time for the fan to be turned off. But how?
I decided to ask our new office manager Linda who started last Thursday and was camped out in the office next to me. Because, having been with us for one and a half days, she was clearly going to be the best person to ask for help. More importantly, she was the first person I came across upon venturing out from my office.
I had barely gotten five words out of my mouth when she burst out laughing. Apparently, much earlier in the day and all the way across the office in the supply room, she and Emily had found a homeless remote control and pressed all the buttons, joking about how they were probably opening and closing someone's garage door somewhere.
She went and got the remote and we tested it: sure enough, fan on, fan off, fan on, fan off.
Case closed.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Buy me some peanuts
When you're trying to think of something fun to do with your dad in Chicago, think about going to a Cubs game.
A few months before this trip, we got the idea that this would be a fun thing to do in spite of the fact that my dad is now actually a Sox fan. It was already sold out so we got tickets from an online ticket vendor for a price that I barely want to admit to paying for these seats. They, like our opera tickets, were squarely in the Wrigley Field death zone.
This is the post that we spent most of our time looking at and hoping there were no critical plays at second base.
A few months before this trip, we got the idea that this would be a fun thing to do in spite of the fact that my dad is now actually a Sox fan. It was already sold out so we got tickets from an online ticket vendor for a price that I barely want to admit to paying for these seats. They, like our opera tickets, were squarely in the Wrigley Field death zone.
This is the post that we spent most of our time looking at and hoping there were no critical plays at second base.
It was very reassuring to watch it standing there keeping the roof up and, I'm sorry to say, also significantly more fun than watching the Cubs lose a shameful 11-2 to the Brewers.
One of the favorite rituals of attending a Cubs game with my father is after the game is over moving to new seats while everyone else is busy shuffling out and then sitting there are long as you can until they kick you out.
I was at a Cubs game the day before I was born - my parents and their friends used to sit out in the bleachers and have a good old time. Not sure if it was that game, or the many others that I've been to in my life since then, but Wrigley Field always kind of feels like home. But with more peanut shells on the floor.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Whatchu talkin about Willis Tower
On Friday, I did something that only I, the ~74,000 other people in line with me, and a few others will ever be able to do.
I looked straight down from the top of the Sears Tower.
Let me explain why this is so exceptional.
You see: the Sears Tower is about to change its name to the Willis Tower due to a change in ownership.
Before the name change, however, the tower has just this past week opened up a new tourist attraction which immediately got our attention. They've built these clear pods that stick out of the side of the building so that you can walk out into them and look straight down 1,300 feet to the street below.
You'll notice them in this photo just a little below the very top of the building. They look like little off-color growths:
And again here, you kind of want to ask your dermatologist to freeze them off.
They've done experiments with crawling infants to see if they will crawl off the edge of a table onto reinforced clear plastic to get to their mother.
The question with adults is not what it would take to lure them onto this ledge but what is the maximum price they would pay for the privilege to do so*.
What I didn't think of until it was too late: I was wearing a skirt. Whoops!
Most people who venture out into these clear pods of near certain death will do so in the Willis Tower. We, and the thousands of others who went over this past weekend, will be the privileged few to have done so in the Sears Tower.
Also, we learned that the Sears-soon-to-be-Willis Tower is washed entirely by robots.
Afterward, in spite of having seen very clearly from the top of the tower that it was a scene of oppressive crowds and limited shade, we went to The Taste and stuffed our bellies with food.
*$15 if you want to wait 3-4 hours, $30 if you want the "Fast Pass" which whisks you to the top in a mere hour and a half.
I looked straight down from the top of the Sears Tower.
Let me explain why this is so exceptional.
You see: the Sears Tower is about to change its name to the Willis Tower due to a change in ownership.
Before the name change, however, the tower has just this past week opened up a new tourist attraction which immediately got our attention. They've built these clear pods that stick out of the side of the building so that you can walk out into them and look straight down 1,300 feet to the street below.
You'll notice them in this photo just a little below the very top of the building. They look like little off-color growths:
And again here, you kind of want to ask your dermatologist to freeze them off.
They've done experiments with crawling infants to see if they will crawl off the edge of a table onto reinforced clear plastic to get to their mother.The question with adults is not what it would take to lure them onto this ledge but what is the maximum price they would pay for the privilege to do so*.
What I didn't think of until it was too late: I was wearing a skirt. Whoops!
Most people who venture out into these clear pods of near certain death will do so in the Willis Tower. We, and the thousands of others who went over this past weekend, will be the privileged few to have done so in the Sears Tower.Also, we learned that the Sears-soon-to-be-Willis Tower is washed entirely by robots.
Afterward, in spite of having seen very clearly from the top of the tower that it was a scene of oppressive crowds and limited shade, we went to The Taste and stuffed our bellies with food.
*$15 if you want to wait 3-4 hours, $30 if you want the "Fast Pass" which whisks you to the top in a mere hour and a half.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Big day in Chi-town
We finally made it to Chicago last night after a long time at the airport and what felt like several days on the plane, though it was only four hours. When we finally got in, we disregarded the fact that it was 11pm and proceeded to have a normal dinner of Chicago-style pizza and salad. We finished around 2am.
It may be several days before I eat again. Or it might be sooner, as we are heading down to check out the Taste of Chicago now.
It may be several days before I eat again. Or it might be sooner, as we are heading down to check out the Taste of Chicago now.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
1000 words
Let me paint you a picture. It is a picture of me.
It is a picture of me riding my bike to work this morning.
In the picture, you'll notice that my backpack looks especially full. It is. It is full of meat*, buns, ketchup, mustard and mayo. It also contains my own packed lunch, and all of the items one might expect to find in a large purse.
You'll also notice that I have another bag hanging off my person. It's a yoga mat bag with two yoga mats and a set of yoga clothes all squeezed inside. It is oblong and hanging awkwardly sort of in front of my body so that my knees hit it each time they come up and around.
Upon continued examination, you will further observe that there are two Whole Foods paper shopping bags hanging from my bike, one from each handlebar. These paper bags contain approximately 20 pounds of local organic peaches and plums for my office. The effort it is taking to prevent these bags from swinging in the wind and smashing into my bike and wheel, crushing the tender fruit inside, is clearly written across my face.
If it were a video, you would see me careening wildly down the Embarcadero holding my breath and just trying not to fall. But it's just a picture. So you can't.
*Somehow the vegetarian drew the meat assignment. Go figure.
It is a picture of me riding my bike to work this morning.
In the picture, you'll notice that my backpack looks especially full. It is. It is full of meat*, buns, ketchup, mustard and mayo. It also contains my own packed lunch, and all of the items one might expect to find in a large purse.
You'll also notice that I have another bag hanging off my person. It's a yoga mat bag with two yoga mats and a set of yoga clothes all squeezed inside. It is oblong and hanging awkwardly sort of in front of my body so that my knees hit it each time they come up and around.
Upon continued examination, you will further observe that there are two Whole Foods paper shopping bags hanging from my bike, one from each handlebar. These paper bags contain approximately 20 pounds of local organic peaches and plums for my office. The effort it is taking to prevent these bags from swinging in the wind and smashing into my bike and wheel, crushing the tender fruit inside, is clearly written across my face.
If it were a video, you would see me careening wildly down the Embarcadero holding my breath and just trying not to fall. But it's just a picture. So you can't.
*Somehow the vegetarian drew the meat assignment. Go figure.
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