ATTENTION PEEPS!
I'm ditching this blog because I don't like the creepy, stalkery searches that keep bringing people here so I created a new one.
How to find me:
1. If you're my Facebook friend you can find the link there.
2. If you know me from the ORIGINAL "blog" you can find the link there.
3. If you know my email address you can ask me and I'll send you the link.
4. If you know my dad, I'm sure he'll hook you up.
I hate to abandon the shocking number of hits this blog has been getting (seriously, WHO KNEW??) but I love my family more than I love my hits, so it is what it is.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Things
Oh me oh my, I've been a baaaad blogger. I thought "Oh hey, it's only been a week, whatever" and then I looked at the calendar and realized that OH DEAR it's been nearly TWO weeks.
Here's what I have to say today:
1. I ran for 45 minutes IN A ROW yesterday. It was only a few months ago that I would shoot to run a mile and then walk a mile and then one day I decided to see if I could push through and just keep running and OMG I COULD! I remember someone saying that once you get past the first 20 minutes it's easy to just run on auto-pilot and I remember thinking that PSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'T RUN FOR 20 MINUTES!!!
Except now I can and HE WAS RIGHT! 20 minutes turned into 40 minutes in the blink of an eye and then I figured well shoot, let's just go around the block again just so I can hit 45 and POOF! I was at 45.
2. I've also been going to kickboxing classes taught by a former Power Ranger (for reals) and he's this tiny little thing who flies through the air like a gnat in track pants. There's this move we had to do that involved squatting so your thighs were parallel to the ground (I challenge you to do this, Internet...it's crazy hard) and then SWISH SWASH, doing a 180 turn and landing in a squat again.
When they started doing this insane maneuver I took the opportunity to get some water and "dab" the sweat that was pouring off my face but then I figured OH WHAT THE HELL and gave it a shot and I CAN DO THAT TOO! Not for the 60 seconds of insanity that Le Petit Power Ranger would have preferred, but HOT DAMN.
I got home and showed my parents and can report the following:
A. My dad thinks he can do it too. But only once.
B. My mom, who I'm sure thinks that my "running" is really code for "walking briskly," was shocked at my moves.
I've been thinking lately that my ability to push through pain + my newfound ability to kick my own ass = Maybe there's an athlete under there somewhere??
3. My nephew continues to be wonderful.
4. I went out for dinner with a couple of lady friends and we ordered the big, giant mondo combination meat & cheese carving board and it was LARGE:
We did some significant damage and then each ate about two bites of our entrees before we reached maximum capacity:
I'm hungry right now though so I'm looking at that after shot and wishing I had that leftover cheese and meat to shove in my face. Poor cheese. I hope it doens't think we didn't love it.
5. This is what I look like when I'm waiting for prospective renters to come look at my apartment and decide that in the absence of chairs, ohhhh, draping myself over the bar will be comfortable:
My hair looks like an eskimo hat and my face looks OLD and HAGGARD so hey, why not share it with the internet?
Also, I would note that being folded over the counter is a difficult position to un-do. My dismount was not comfortable.
6. I don't know why they sell these:
7. And now that I've burned your eyes with those last two images, I'll leave you with the cutest dress ever that, I'm sad to report, bags out like crazy after sitting on a bar stool for a few hours:
Here's what I have to say today:
1. I ran for 45 minutes IN A ROW yesterday. It was only a few months ago that I would shoot to run a mile and then walk a mile and then one day I decided to see if I could push through and just keep running and OMG I COULD! I remember someone saying that once you get past the first 20 minutes it's easy to just run on auto-pilot and I remember thinking that PSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'T RUN FOR 20 MINUTES!!!
Except now I can and HE WAS RIGHT! 20 minutes turned into 40 minutes in the blink of an eye and then I figured well shoot, let's just go around the block again just so I can hit 45 and POOF! I was at 45.
2. I've also been going to kickboxing classes taught by a former Power Ranger (for reals) and he's this tiny little thing who flies through the air like a gnat in track pants. There's this move we had to do that involved squatting so your thighs were parallel to the ground (I challenge you to do this, Internet...it's crazy hard) and then SWISH SWASH, doing a 180 turn and landing in a squat again.
When they started doing this insane maneuver I took the opportunity to get some water and "dab" the sweat that was pouring off my face but then I figured OH WHAT THE HELL and gave it a shot and I CAN DO THAT TOO! Not for the 60 seconds of insanity that Le Petit Power Ranger would have preferred, but HOT DAMN.
I got home and showed my parents and can report the following:
A. My dad thinks he can do it too. But only once.
B. My mom, who I'm sure thinks that my "running" is really code for "walking briskly," was shocked at my moves.
I've been thinking lately that my ability to push through pain + my newfound ability to kick my own ass = Maybe there's an athlete under there somewhere??
3. My nephew continues to be wonderful.
4. I went out for dinner with a couple of lady friends and we ordered the big, giant mondo combination meat & cheese carving board and it was LARGE:
We did some significant damage and then each ate about two bites of our entrees before we reached maximum capacity:
I'm hungry right now though so I'm looking at that after shot and wishing I had that leftover cheese and meat to shove in my face. Poor cheese. I hope it doens't think we didn't love it.
5. This is what I look like when I'm waiting for prospective renters to come look at my apartment and decide that in the absence of chairs, ohhhh, draping myself over the bar will be comfortable:
My hair looks like an eskimo hat and my face looks OLD and HAGGARD so hey, why not share it with the internet?
Also, I would note that being folded over the counter is a difficult position to un-do. My dismount was not comfortable.
6. I don't know why they sell these:
7. And now that I've burned your eyes with those last two images, I'll leave you with the cutest dress ever that, I'm sad to report, bags out like crazy after sitting on a bar stool for a few hours:
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Bullet: DODGED!
I showed my apartment to several more people on Tuesday evening.
The first guy showed up and had kind of a "I'm young and slight but I'm going to show you how important I am by using my authoritative voice when talking to you" demeanor about him that I found kind of annoying, but whatever -- I don't have to live with him or anything.
He had his positive attributes:
* Tidy-looking
He had his interesting attributes:
* He is a funeral director and has his degree in mortuary science or something.
He had his middle-of-the-road attributes:
* Mediocre credit
He had his hmmmm attributes:
* Fake blue contacts (WHO DOES THAT ANYMORE?)
* Appeared to be wearing makeup, which, given his profession, made me wonder if it was dead person makeup!
But all in all, he was fine, his credit wasn't horrible, he filled out the rental application right then and there and left me with copies of all his financial stuff.
PLUS he said that given his kinda blah credit, he'd be willing to pay up to a year of rent in advance.
Whoa, interesting.
Then the rest of the prospective tenants came through and I liked them all and started to wonder if I should go with the ones I personally liked or the one who was willing to put his money where his mouth was and in the end, I decided that it was fair to go with this guy because I didn't dislike him and he was the first to give me his application and I do not discriminate against men who choose to wear makeup. I mean, who knows? Maybe he has Alyssa Milano skin under there or something, poor guy.
So I called him up to say hey, we're gonna check your references tomorrow, I'd like to take you up on your pre-payment offer if you're still interested in the apartment. He says yes, great, except really, I'm only comfortable paying for six months in advance. I say okay, that's fine, I'll talk to you tomorrow. He calls back a few minutes later and leaves me a message saying hey, you know what, you could totally foreclose and then I'd be left up a creek, so I think I'd rather just give you three months in advance and I'd need it all stipulated in the lease because also what if I decide to break the lease and blah blah blah.
I happened to run into my old friend Bree just as I was listening to the VM and told her about about the 12-no-6-no-3 month thing and she told me about how comfortable she and her husband are with THEIR renters. And then I talked to my brother (who is also happy with HIS renter) and was like dude, I think I want to tell him to go pound salt, he's backtracking, it's fishy, and I think he might wear dead person makeup.
So this morning I called left him a VERY FRIENDLY message saying hey, I've been thinking about it and I think I'm going to pass. I TOTALLY get where you're coming from and that the pre-payment is a risk to you, but I think there's a lack of trust between us and I don't want to get started off on the wrong foot so I'll go ahead and shred your documents as soon as I get home unless I hear otherwise, but hey, good luck to you.
He calls me back and wants to know what made me change my mind and I tell him that you know, I would have rented to you even without your pre-payment offer but I have to tell you, the backtracking kinda spooked me.
AND THEN (because there's always an "and then"):
He cockily tells me that "Yeah, well, you leaving your apartment to move back in with your parents spooked ME."
And I was surprised because I know FOR A FACT I did not tell him that specifically. I do recall him catching me off guard by asking small-talky questions about where I was going but I know I said FAMILY and not PARENTS.
Semantics and all though, right?
It's not UNTRUE, but I'm annoyed that he thinks I'm living with my parents because I'm at risk for losing my apartment and that, Mr. Makeup, is not the case AT ALL.
But I'm not going to argue with a guy who thinks his recent inheritance makes him a high roller so I said "Okay. Good luck. Goodbye."
The first guy showed up and had kind of a "I'm young and slight but I'm going to show you how important I am by using my authoritative voice when talking to you" demeanor about him that I found kind of annoying, but whatever -- I don't have to live with him or anything.
He had his positive attributes:
* Tidy-looking
He had his interesting attributes:
* He is a funeral director and has his degree in mortuary science or something.
He had his middle-of-the-road attributes:
* Mediocre credit
He had his hmmmm attributes:
* Fake blue contacts (WHO DOES THAT ANYMORE?)
* Appeared to be wearing makeup, which, given his profession, made me wonder if it was dead person makeup!
But all in all, he was fine, his credit wasn't horrible, he filled out the rental application right then and there and left me with copies of all his financial stuff.
PLUS he said that given his kinda blah credit, he'd be willing to pay up to a year of rent in advance.
Whoa, interesting.
Then the rest of the prospective tenants came through and I liked them all and started to wonder if I should go with the ones I personally liked or the one who was willing to put his money where his mouth was and in the end, I decided that it was fair to go with this guy because I didn't dislike him and he was the first to give me his application and I do not discriminate against men who choose to wear makeup. I mean, who knows? Maybe he has Alyssa Milano skin under there or something, poor guy.
So I called him up to say hey, we're gonna check your references tomorrow, I'd like to take you up on your pre-payment offer if you're still interested in the apartment. He says yes, great, except really, I'm only comfortable paying for six months in advance. I say okay, that's fine, I'll talk to you tomorrow. He calls back a few minutes later and leaves me a message saying hey, you know what, you could totally foreclose and then I'd be left up a creek, so I think I'd rather just give you three months in advance and I'd need it all stipulated in the lease because also what if I decide to break the lease and blah blah blah.
I happened to run into my old friend Bree just as I was listening to the VM and told her about about the 12-no-6-no-3 month thing and she told me about how comfortable she and her husband are with THEIR renters. And then I talked to my brother (who is also happy with HIS renter) and was like dude, I think I want to tell him to go pound salt, he's backtracking, it's fishy, and I think he might wear dead person makeup.
So this morning I called left him a VERY FRIENDLY message saying hey, I've been thinking about it and I think I'm going to pass. I TOTALLY get where you're coming from and that the pre-payment is a risk to you, but I think there's a lack of trust between us and I don't want to get started off on the wrong foot so I'll go ahead and shred your documents as soon as I get home unless I hear otherwise, but hey, good luck to you.
He calls me back and wants to know what made me change my mind and I tell him that you know, I would have rented to you even without your pre-payment offer but I have to tell you, the backtracking kinda spooked me.
AND THEN (because there's always an "and then"):
He cockily tells me that "Yeah, well, you leaving your apartment to move back in with your parents spooked ME."
And I was surprised because I know FOR A FACT I did not tell him that specifically. I do recall him catching me off guard by asking small-talky questions about where I was going but I know I said FAMILY and not PARENTS.
Semantics and all though, right?
It's not UNTRUE, but I'm annoyed that he thinks I'm living with my parents because I'm at risk for losing my apartment and that, Mr. Makeup, is not the case AT ALL.
But I'm not going to argue with a guy who thinks his recent inheritance makes him a high roller so I said "Okay. Good luck. Goodbye."
Things
1. It's pumpkin spice latte season! How exciting! Of course, it was like 74 degrees at 8AM so I didn't get one, but HOOOO BOY that's one of my favorite things about fall.
2. Los Angeles is not my BFF. First of all, it's hotter than heck. Or maybe that's just my go-places-on-record-weather-days bad luck, but HOOOO BOY, it was hot. And smoky. And hot.
And Ben and Sarah think I'm the whiniest OMG IT'S HOT crybaby on the planet but let me tell you something about being a fat person sitting in the back seat of a rented Hyundai on a 100 degree day with a 100-pound person in the front seat controlling the air conditioning: IT IS NOT COMFORTABLE.
To any passers by it would have looked like I was craning my neck for a better view but no, I was craning my neck with the hope that maybe, perhaps, if I was lucky, a little smidge of the refrigerated air would maybe, perhaps, if I was lucky, reach my face.
3. But rest assured, Los Angeles, you are not without SOME redeeming qualities:
A. It's where Karate Kid was filmed:
(Note: The empty iced tea cup is in my hand because I couldn't risk leaving my precious, precious ice to melt in the car.)
B. It's full of celebrity glamour (*cough*):
C. Our hotel was sassy and offered equally sassy bathrobes:
D. Westwood is very cute with lots of very cute little houses and attractive people walking their very cute little dogs.
4. Speaking of attractive people, I had dinner with my BFF Grady last night:
He's quite the charmer.
2. Los Angeles is not my BFF. First of all, it's hotter than heck. Or maybe that's just my go-places-on-record-weather-days bad luck, but HOOOO BOY, it was hot. And smoky. And hot.
And Ben and Sarah think I'm the whiniest OMG IT'S HOT crybaby on the planet but let me tell you something about being a fat person sitting in the back seat of a rented Hyundai on a 100 degree day with a 100-pound person in the front seat controlling the air conditioning: IT IS NOT COMFORTABLE.
To any passers by it would have looked like I was craning my neck for a better view but no, I was craning my neck with the hope that maybe, perhaps, if I was lucky, a little smidge of the refrigerated air would maybe, perhaps, if I was lucky, reach my face.
3. But rest assured, Los Angeles, you are not without SOME redeeming qualities:
A. It's where Karate Kid was filmed:
(Note: The empty iced tea cup is in my hand because I couldn't risk leaving my precious, precious ice to melt in the car.)
B. It's full of celebrity glamour (*cough*):
C. Our hotel was sassy and offered equally sassy bathrobes:
D. Westwood is very cute with lots of very cute little houses and attractive people walking their very cute little dogs.
4. Speaking of attractive people, I had dinner with my BFF Grady last night:
He's quite the charmer.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Only Child
1. It occurs to me that I think it's kind of weird that Baby doesn't have a twin. I mean, my brothers are special snowflakes in that they're natural twins and I know that's rare-ish and all and I don't really even think of my brothers as TWINS...more like brothers who were born on the same day...yet I was just re-watching a video of Baby for the umpteenth time and I went "Whoa! He doesn't have a Ben!"
Poor Baby.
2. Speaking of Ben: Ben, Sarah and I are flying to LA tonight so we can show Sarah that yes, she picked the best half of California and that no, the other half is not as glamorous as she thinks it will be.
I'm going to flaunt my Northern California-ness by refusing to add a "the" to the beginning of a freeway name.
The sightseeing is not our only reason for visiting though. My parents are driving down tomorrow so we can all (minus Andrew & family) attend my cousin Farah's wedding. Except that she ACTUALLY got married in NY a couple of weeks ago so this is the California shin-dig.
THANK YOU FARAH FOR NOT MAKING ME GO TO NEW YORK IN AUGUST!
Humidity does not suit me.
3. That's all I have for you today, Internet.
Poor Baby.
2. Speaking of Ben: Ben, Sarah and I are flying to LA tonight so we can show Sarah that yes, she picked the best half of California and that no, the other half is not as glamorous as she thinks it will be.
I'm going to flaunt my Northern California-ness by refusing to add a "the" to the beginning of a freeway name.
The sightseeing is not our only reason for visiting though. My parents are driving down tomorrow so we can all (minus Andrew & family) attend my cousin Farah's wedding. Except that she ACTUALLY got married in NY a couple of weeks ago so this is the California shin-dig.
THANK YOU FARAH FOR NOT MAKING ME GO TO NEW YORK IN AUGUST!
Humidity does not suit me.
3. That's all I have for you today, Internet.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Don't mind me...
This post is 100% for my mom because her computer has challenges and it won't play videos of my wonderful nephew via Flickr, but WILL play videos that I upload here.
HERE YOU GO MOM!
Sorry about that everyone.
Then again, it's not like I'm uploading videos of paint drying or anything.
Buuuuuuuut, maybe videos of other peoples' kids ARE kind of like watching paint drying? I dunno.
CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED!
HERE YOU GO MOM!
Sorry about that everyone.
Then again, it's not like I'm uploading videos of paint drying or anything.
Buuuuuuuut, maybe videos of other peoples' kids ARE kind of like watching paint drying? I dunno.
CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED!
My Earliest Memory
I would have been nearly three years old because I remember my mom being pretty pregnant with my brothers and I didn't really know where babies came from but I knew that if I asked my mom about it, it would make her squirm.
So I asked, of course.
She denies that she ever said anything this inaccurate but I remember it VERY CLEARLY:
"When two people love each other a lot, God gives them a baby."
QUOTE END QUOTE.
I had no idea where they ACTUALLY came from but I knew this wasn't it.
My brother likes to coo at Baby and tell him that "Mommy and Daddy made you with love, Little Guy!"
And then I throw up.
So I asked, of course.
She denies that she ever said anything this inaccurate but I remember it VERY CLEARLY:
"When two people love each other a lot, God gives them a baby."
QUOTE END QUOTE.
I had no idea where they ACTUALLY came from but I knew this wasn't it.
My brother likes to coo at Baby and tell him that "Mommy and Daddy made you with love, Little Guy!"
And then I throw up.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Things
1. I re-ran my last run of the Golden Gate Bridge as a San Francisco resident this morning. I'm working from home and was able to get up early enough, so why not? I'm pleased to report:
* I didn't see any suicidal people this time.
* I ran THE WHOLE THING AND THEN BACK TO THE MARIN TOWER! If my calculations are correct, this is 2.2 miles, which BOGGLES MY MIND.
ME?
Run 2.2 miles without stopping?
ME AND MY MORBID OBESITY??
Y-E-S!
Of course it took me 25 minutes to do it, but Rome wasn't built in a day.
(But OMG my morbid obesity and I can run for 25 whole minutes IN A ROW without dying, which is something I'm very proud of, especially considering I couldn't run half a lap when I first started "running".)
2. 14 more pounds until I am able to graduate from morbid obesity to just regular obesity, by the way. I know that BMI tables are CRAP, but it's not like I'm just a little bit fat, so the bullshit lines between healthy and unhealthy weights are kinda a moot point.
3. In other news, I had this little, uh, growth like thing on my forehead and I ignored it for a long time and then read about how Dooce had something similar that turned out to be pre-Cancerous cells so I broke down and made an appointment with a dermatologist and even though I was CONVINCED it was bad news she was like "Oh hey, no problem...just some 'waxy cell build up' -- want me to burn it off?" And since I DO NOT LIKE WAXY BUILD UP ANYWHERE, PARTICULARLY ON MY FACE I said "Yes please!"
So she did:
It shows up way better now than it did right after my office visit, but I marched myself out of that building and sat in my car for like 20 minutes trying to get a good shot of my waxy build up. I wasn't particularly successful but I did learn that the extreme FGA produces some CREEPY LOOKING angles. For example, this is one I like to call "I'm Going to Eat Your Soul With a Side of Brains":
3a. Coincidentally, there was an article about non-Cancerous skin things in the Sept/Oct issue of Weight Watchers magazine and it totally discussed my particular variety of waxy cell build up, but I don't really know how to tell the difference between waxy cell build up and something I actually need to worry about so I'll leave the diagnosing to the professionals. Plus, I'm blonde with blue eyes, I've lived in a sunny climate for my whole life and only started wearing regular sunscreen ten or so years ago...I figure it's not so much a matter of if I'll find something that needs to be removed, but when.
3b. I'd also like to say that my friend Lauren had the BAD kind of skin cancer and had it removed and all, but she was only like 23-ish when that happened and despite spending her life up until that point as a sun and tanning bed worshipper, she has done a 180 and is all about the sunblock and shade. There are 100 things I love about Lauren, and her ability to hit the brakes and change her lifestyle like that is one of them. I admire her for it.
I think it's kind of like how when people have heart attacks they get the wake up calls to take better care of themselves, but by that point they're older and they recognize how fragile and precious life is...but a 23-year-old embracing that same attitude is pretty rare.
4. My bathroom light switches have been a problem for oh...say...two years now and my friend Henry (a retired electrician) has offered to fix them for me several times but I've been putting it off and putting it off and, as a result, I've taken more than one shower in the dark.
I finally called Henry last night and he came over this morning and BADA BING, they're fixed. I'm going to turn the lights on and off all day today just because I can.
My dad also put in the moulding along the bathroom floor so now, nearly three years after I pulled the original moulding off in a fit of "THIS IS UGLY GET IT OUT OF HERE," and what I'd classify as EPIC procrastination on my part, I have bathroom moulding.
And in approximately 21 hours, movers will be here to move me out of this apartment with the FINALLY FINISHED bathroom that someone else will get to enjoy.
Ahhh, timing.
* I didn't see any suicidal people this time.
* I ran THE WHOLE THING AND THEN BACK TO THE MARIN TOWER! If my calculations are correct, this is 2.2 miles, which BOGGLES MY MIND.
ME?
Run 2.2 miles without stopping?
ME AND MY MORBID OBESITY??
Y-E-S!
Of course it took me 25 minutes to do it, but Rome wasn't built in a day.
(But OMG my morbid obesity and I can run for 25 whole minutes IN A ROW without dying, which is something I'm very proud of, especially considering I couldn't run half a lap when I first started "running".)
2. 14 more pounds until I am able to graduate from morbid obesity to just regular obesity, by the way. I know that BMI tables are CRAP, but it's not like I'm just a little bit fat, so the bullshit lines between healthy and unhealthy weights are kinda a moot point.
3. In other news, I had this little, uh, growth like thing on my forehead and I ignored it for a long time and then read about how Dooce had something similar that turned out to be pre-Cancerous cells so I broke down and made an appointment with a dermatologist and even though I was CONVINCED it was bad news she was like "Oh hey, no problem...just some 'waxy cell build up' -- want me to burn it off?" And since I DO NOT LIKE WAXY BUILD UP ANYWHERE, PARTICULARLY ON MY FACE I said "Yes please!"
So she did:
It shows up way better now than it did right after my office visit, but I marched myself out of that building and sat in my car for like 20 minutes trying to get a good shot of my waxy build up. I wasn't particularly successful but I did learn that the extreme FGA produces some CREEPY LOOKING angles. For example, this is one I like to call "I'm Going to Eat Your Soul With a Side of Brains":
3a. Coincidentally, there was an article about non-Cancerous skin things in the Sept/Oct issue of Weight Watchers magazine and it totally discussed my particular variety of waxy cell build up, but I don't really know how to tell the difference between waxy cell build up and something I actually need to worry about so I'll leave the diagnosing to the professionals. Plus, I'm blonde with blue eyes, I've lived in a sunny climate for my whole life and only started wearing regular sunscreen ten or so years ago...I figure it's not so much a matter of if I'll find something that needs to be removed, but when.
3b. I'd also like to say that my friend Lauren had the BAD kind of skin cancer and had it removed and all, but she was only like 23-ish when that happened and despite spending her life up until that point as a sun and tanning bed worshipper, she has done a 180 and is all about the sunblock and shade. There are 100 things I love about Lauren, and her ability to hit the brakes and change her lifestyle like that is one of them. I admire her for it.
I think it's kind of like how when people have heart attacks they get the wake up calls to take better care of themselves, but by that point they're older and they recognize how fragile and precious life is...but a 23-year-old embracing that same attitude is pretty rare.
4. My bathroom light switches have been a problem for oh...say...two years now and my friend Henry (a retired electrician) has offered to fix them for me several times but I've been putting it off and putting it off and, as a result, I've taken more than one shower in the dark.
I finally called Henry last night and he came over this morning and BADA BING, they're fixed. I'm going to turn the lights on and off all day today just because I can.
My dad also put in the moulding along the bathroom floor so now, nearly three years after I pulled the original moulding off in a fit of "THIS IS UGLY GET IT OUT OF HERE," and what I'd classify as EPIC procrastination on my part, I have bathroom moulding.
And in approximately 21 hours, movers will be here to move me out of this apartment with the FINALLY FINISHED bathroom that someone else will get to enjoy.
Ahhh, timing.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Stalker
I just checked the searches that directed people to this blog and here are a few of the new & noteworthy ones:
how to spell booger on a calculator
truckee pirate weight watchers
hokey pokey this week video
I don't know how to spell booger on a calculator, if there's a Weight Watchers in Truckee for pirates I don't know anything about it and I haven't done the hokey pokey in years.
Also, there's a disturbing trend of searches for my future sister-in-law, the details of the upcoming wedding, etc. As a result, I'm going mum on all of that.
You see Stalker, THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.
how to spell booger on a calculator
truckee pirate weight watchers
hokey pokey this week video
I don't know how to spell booger on a calculator, if there's a Weight Watchers in Truckee for pirates I don't know anything about it and I haven't done the hokey pokey in years.
Also, there's a disturbing trend of searches for my future sister-in-law, the details of the upcoming wedding, etc. As a result, I'm going mum on all of that.
You see Stalker, THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Intuition
It's a milestone day, Internet.
I went for my last run across the Golden Gate Bridge as a San Francisco resident. PLUS, instead of turning around at the Marin County line (the second tower) like I usually do, I decided to shoot for the end of the bridge itself (only an extra half mile, but this marks my longest run ever) and VICTORY WAS MINE! I am really proud of myself, particularly since when I first started running I couldn't even run half of a lap at the track.
Then something unsettling happened.
But first, the demographics of the GGB in the 7AM/8AM hours are as follows:
The first half mile or so of the bridge (starting from the SF side) has the tourists who are moseying out to look and take pictures. There aren't too many that early in the morning, but they're always there. The middle of the bridge is empty except for the runners and MAYBE a few hearty tourists. The Marin end of the bridge usually has a few folks doing the half mile out mosey from the other side.
So on my outbound run this morning I saw a lady somewhere near the middle, totally out of mosey territory, walking at a leisurely pace. I noticed her because she was that far out on the bridge but didn't appear to have a camera with her, which I think is like a required accessory for the non-exercisers. I wondered what she was doing, but I didn't think too much of it. I assumed she was being alone with her thoughts or something.
I finished my run across and started walking back and I had just passed the Marin tower when I crossed paths with her again. This time I was able to see her face and she looked sad. Not really even just sad, but really upset and in pain. She wasn't crying or anything, but the look on her face really affected me and I walked a few more feet thinking that I should go back and ask her if she was okay.
Noooo, don't be silly. Maybe she's just cold and her face looks like that because it's cold and windy. Mind your own business, Elizabeth.
So I continued walking and thinking about her for a couple of minutes but I couldn't shake the feeling that I should turn around and go back to her. I stopped walking and stood there for a second, trying to decide what I should do.
Go about my business?
Or backtrack to go ask that stranger if she was okay?
I wasn't even thinking about it in a "she might jump" kind of way...it really was just out of concern and I thought maybe it might make her feel better to know that I cared. (Old age has turned me soft.)
I decided that even though it was totally out of character for me, I would turn around to at least just walk in her direction and then re-evaluate when I got closer.
BUT THEN!
When I stopped to think about what I should do I noticed two police cars pass (which is unusual) but I didn't put two and two together until I turned around to go back and saw that they had stopped next to the lady and a police officer was putting his arm around her.
I'm telling you, Internet, I just about burst into tears right then and there. My intuition had been SCREAMING at me to TURN AROUND AND GO MAKE SURE THAT LADY IS OKAY but I was too busy trying to talk myself out of it to listen and seeing the police with the lady made me realize that my intuition was 100% right on the money.
I don't know what happened to tip the police off, but a few minutes later two CHP and two bridge patrol cars passed with their lights on, which seems like A LOT of police coverage for one potentially suicidal lady, but I was relieved to know that I wasn't wrong -- something was definitely going on with her and that someone was there to keep her from doing it.
Where there's a will, there's a way and all, but NOT ON MY WATCH.
That said, I:
1. Feel like an asshole for being grateful that I didn't have to get involved.
2. Feel like an asshole because I'm a little bit annoyed that my last GGB run / longest run ever has been overshadowed.
I went for my last run across the Golden Gate Bridge as a San Francisco resident. PLUS, instead of turning around at the Marin County line (the second tower) like I usually do, I decided to shoot for the end of the bridge itself (only an extra half mile, but this marks my longest run ever) and VICTORY WAS MINE! I am really proud of myself, particularly since when I first started running I couldn't even run half of a lap at the track.
Then something unsettling happened.
But first, the demographics of the GGB in the 7AM/8AM hours are as follows:
The first half mile or so of the bridge (starting from the SF side) has the tourists who are moseying out to look and take pictures. There aren't too many that early in the morning, but they're always there. The middle of the bridge is empty except for the runners and MAYBE a few hearty tourists. The Marin end of the bridge usually has a few folks doing the half mile out mosey from the other side.
So on my outbound run this morning I saw a lady somewhere near the middle, totally out of mosey territory, walking at a leisurely pace. I noticed her because she was that far out on the bridge but didn't appear to have a camera with her, which I think is like a required accessory for the non-exercisers. I wondered what she was doing, but I didn't think too much of it. I assumed she was being alone with her thoughts or something.
I finished my run across and started walking back and I had just passed the Marin tower when I crossed paths with her again. This time I was able to see her face and she looked sad. Not really even just sad, but really upset and in pain. She wasn't crying or anything, but the look on her face really affected me and I walked a few more feet thinking that I should go back and ask her if she was okay.
Noooo, don't be silly. Maybe she's just cold and her face looks like that because it's cold and windy. Mind your own business, Elizabeth.
So I continued walking and thinking about her for a couple of minutes but I couldn't shake the feeling that I should turn around and go back to her. I stopped walking and stood there for a second, trying to decide what I should do.
Go about my business?
Or backtrack to go ask that stranger if she was okay?
I wasn't even thinking about it in a "she might jump" kind of way...it really was just out of concern and I thought maybe it might make her feel better to know that I cared. (Old age has turned me soft.)
I decided that even though it was totally out of character for me, I would turn around to at least just walk in her direction and then re-evaluate when I got closer.
BUT THEN!
When I stopped to think about what I should do I noticed two police cars pass (which is unusual) but I didn't put two and two together until I turned around to go back and saw that they had stopped next to the lady and a police officer was putting his arm around her.
I'm telling you, Internet, I just about burst into tears right then and there. My intuition had been SCREAMING at me to TURN AROUND AND GO MAKE SURE THAT LADY IS OKAY but I was too busy trying to talk myself out of it to listen and seeing the police with the lady made me realize that my intuition was 100% right on the money.
I don't know what happened to tip the police off, but a few minutes later two CHP and two bridge patrol cars passed with their lights on, which seems like A LOT of police coverage for one potentially suicidal lady, but I was relieved to know that I wasn't wrong -- something was definitely going on with her and that someone was there to keep her from doing it.
Where there's a will, there's a way and all, but NOT ON MY WATCH.
That said, I:
1. Feel like an asshole for being grateful that I didn't have to get involved.
2. Feel like an asshole because I'm a little bit annoyed that my last GGB run / longest run ever has been overshadowed.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Not ALL anonymous commenters are telling you that you're fat and stupid! Some are VALUABLE!
OH MY GOD whoever that anon commenter was the other day who pointed me to this link is my NEW BEST FRIEND:
http://www.howtogeek.com/howto/3210/drown-out-that-annoying-co-worker-without-hurting-your-ears/
Through that link I found Simply Noise and I SWEAR TO YOU, Internet, I'm a whole new woman. It's magical how it drowns out alllll the snorts and snot sucking and grunting and coughing and isn't distracting AT ALL.
The downside is that without my protective bubble of white noise (actually, I like the brown noise at 40%) my irritation level SKY ROCKETS. I was on a conference call with a mouth breather so I had that in one ear and the grunter in the other ear and I think I might have a little bit of a problem because I was craaazy cranky and I felt like a junkie twitching for her next hit.
I'm afraid to take my ear buds out and face the real world!
But WITH my protective bubble of white (brown) noise?
Oh my goodness.
I can't stop working because now all of a sudden I am focused and give a crap about the Quote to Cash process!
YAY!
Anyhooters, thanks a million Anon.
http://www.howtogeek.com/howto/3210/drown-out-that-annoying-co-worker-without-hurting-your-ears/
Through that link I found Simply Noise and I SWEAR TO YOU, Internet, I'm a whole new woman. It's magical how it drowns out alllll the snorts and snot sucking and grunting and coughing and isn't distracting AT ALL.
The downside is that without my protective bubble of white noise (actually, I like the brown noise at 40%) my irritation level SKY ROCKETS. I was on a conference call with a mouth breather so I had that in one ear and the grunter in the other ear and I think I might have a little bit of a problem because I was craaazy cranky and I felt like a junkie twitching for her next hit.
I'm afraid to take my ear buds out and face the real world!
But WITH my protective bubble of white (brown) noise?
Oh my goodness.
I can't stop working because now all of a sudden I am focused and give a crap about the Quote to Cash process!
YAY!
Anyhooters, thanks a million Anon.
My, your buns are warm in the morning!
I am 33 today.
My grandfather used to flip the numbers in his age. Only if it suited him, of course, but since he died at 100, his nineties were easy targets for his tricks. 98th birthday? No siree, 89th!
So today I'm 33, which means I've thought of Boppa many times today because if he were alive he'd tell me that 33 doesn't do me any good because I'm 33 either way. Of course, the next several years won't be useful either...34/43, etc.
But anyway, I'm thinking of Boppa today.
Speaking of, Boppa's death taught me that when people die, they don't actually disappear. This is all very kumbaya of me, I know, but we still actively remember and talk about him and really, it's like he's still here.
Jeeeeze, Elizabeth. Happy Birthday, let's talk about your dead grandfather.
Moving on...
So it's my birthday and I'm now eight days away from moving out of San Francisco, so what better excuse to have one last morning bun from Tartine for breakfast?
I've never really been a breakfast breads person (I'm more the BRING ON THE SAUSAGE type) but I had one of those there morning buns a few months ago because they're on the list of things to try in San Francisco before you die and BOY HOWDY, it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I believe I posted a picture of it here.
Yes, in fact, I did:
It's a good thing it's such a PAIN IN THE ASS to park over by Tartine because otherwise I'd be over there every day eating pressed sandwiches, olive bread, tarts and morning buns.
But today is my birthday so I put forth the effort and got there right when they opened and DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAGIC EXISTS IN THE WORLD RIGHT WHEN THE BAKERY OPENS?
WARM morning buns!
Holy crap, it was delicious but holy crap, I'm not used to eating warm, sugary, buttery bread products so early in the morning and now I feel kinda gross, so I'm trying to flush it out with lots of water and no more coffee.
The middle part of my birthday will be spent deciphering a bunch of work stuff that I'm SO UNQUALIFIED to be responsible for, but have somehow been put in charge of.
It'll be a laugh riot.
Then tonight I'm going to dinner with the family, but it'll be an early night because tomorrow I will embark on Operation: Pack My Kitchen. I might also work on Operation: Drink the Rest of the Beer. TBD.
My grandfather used to flip the numbers in his age. Only if it suited him, of course, but since he died at 100, his nineties were easy targets for his tricks. 98th birthday? No siree, 89th!
So today I'm 33, which means I've thought of Boppa many times today because if he were alive he'd tell me that 33 doesn't do me any good because I'm 33 either way. Of course, the next several years won't be useful either...34/43, etc.
But anyway, I'm thinking of Boppa today.
Speaking of, Boppa's death taught me that when people die, they don't actually disappear. This is all very kumbaya of me, I know, but we still actively remember and talk about him and really, it's like he's still here.
Jeeeeze, Elizabeth. Happy Birthday, let's talk about your dead grandfather.
Moving on...
So it's my birthday and I'm now eight days away from moving out of San Francisco, so what better excuse to have one last morning bun from Tartine for breakfast?
I've never really been a breakfast breads person (I'm more the BRING ON THE SAUSAGE type) but I had one of those there morning buns a few months ago because they're on the list of things to try in San Francisco before you die and BOY HOWDY, it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I believe I posted a picture of it here.
Yes, in fact, I did:
It's a good thing it's such a PAIN IN THE ASS to park over by Tartine because otherwise I'd be over there every day eating pressed sandwiches, olive bread, tarts and morning buns.
But today is my birthday so I put forth the effort and got there right when they opened and DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAGIC EXISTS IN THE WORLD RIGHT WHEN THE BAKERY OPENS?
WARM morning buns!
Holy crap, it was delicious but holy crap, I'm not used to eating warm, sugary, buttery bread products so early in the morning and now I feel kinda gross, so I'm trying to flush it out with lots of water and no more coffee.
The middle part of my birthday will be spent deciphering a bunch of work stuff that I'm SO UNQUALIFIED to be responsible for, but have somehow been put in charge of.
It'll be a laugh riot.
Then tonight I'm going to dinner with the family, but it'll be an early night because tomorrow I will embark on Operation: Pack My Kitchen. I might also work on Operation: Drink the Rest of the Beer. TBD.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I think I dodged a bullet.
I went on a job interview last week. I was really excited about it because it was my dream job (if I HAVE to work, that is) but I had some reservations because it was a global role for a company that is significantly larger than the huge company I already work for. If I had my druthers, I'd prefer something smaller (more direct impact) and domestic (YOU try scheduling conference calls with France and Singapore), but I'd also prefer to quit contracting (the benefits and the uncertainty suck) so if I got it I'd be thrilled for the opportunity.
My friend Dave, a man I respect very much and who is crazy smart in the world of the biz-nass, told me that when I look at a job description, I should totally have 1/3 of the required skills, be able to pretty much figure out 1/3 of the required skills, and that the last 1/3 should be stuff I'd have to stretch in order to figure out. I'm sure recruiters and hiring managers of the world might disagree, but Dave was looking at it from the personal and career development perspectives and I'm on board with that, so the 1/3 of this particular job that would have been a stretch didn't scare me.
I had three phone interviews with remote team members and nailed them all and then I had three in-person interviews last week. I was feeling very confident about the first two and everyone told me GLOWING things about the Director (to whom this position reports) and I was excited to knock her socks off during my third in-person interview.
Except then I fell flat on my face.
We didn't have a great rapport, which was a huge red flag because I can talk to just about anyone, but to make things worse, she asked me questions that, in retrospect, were kind of unfair. More specifically, I think they were trick questions. What I should have done was answered them in a "Defining exactly what an engaged employee looks like is very specific to the project, the organization, the company..." kind of way instead of trying to figure out what I thought an engaged employee at this particular company might look like because there's a 0% chance that I'd be able to guess.d
Blah blah blah, but I missed the boat on this question. I should have explained how I'd propose we go about defining it instead of trying to define it on the fly.
And boy howdy, I could tell the moment I screwed it up and my immediate instinct was to just get up and leave right then and there, but maybe I could salvage it? Except in order to salvage it, I needed to have a rapport with this lady and I just really DID NOT.
I left the interview totally knowing I wasn't going to get this job and I was really bummed about it for like 15 minutes and wishing I could have a do-over. Ultimately, I managed to talk myself into being okay with it and when I got my rejection e-mail yesterday I just deleted it and was appreciative that I had already mourned and recovered.
Kind of like when you're already OVER a man and by the time he finally gets around to saying "I'm just not that into you" you're like "Yeah, whatever Molasses...I cared a week ago but today I think you probably shouldn't let the door hit you on the ass."
Bonus Story:
One of the chicks who interviewed me told me that she just moved to San Francisco from Oregon and:
1. She just bought an apartment in The Infinity and told me that they've only sold like 20 units so far so she has the entire 31st floor to herself. She asked my opinion on buying a couch and dining table for her balcony and is the fall in SF really as nice as people say because at this point, she can't imagine having dinner parties out there with the weather as it has been? I suggested that she bite the bullet and go for it because even if she just has cocktail hour outside, it'll be worth it and if it's too cold, the dinners themselves could be held inside. Plus, just for kicks, why not buy a heat lamp too?
She thought I was very smart. Obvs, duh.
2. Her Oregon friends said that she couldn't wear her leather coat here and I was like "Uhh, I don't think the hippies are really going to give you trouble for a leather coat" and then she was like "Well, what if it has a fur collar and fur cuffs?" I didn't know what to tell her about that but lucky for me, she switched the subject to announce that "You know, living in California is like living in a foreign country, what with all that SPANISH that people are speaking." And then she rolled her eyes to accentuate her point.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Wow.
Instead of telling her that YOU DO REALIZE THAT CALIFORNIA IS NEXT TO MEXICO AND, IN FACT, USED TO BE PART OF MEXICO, RIGHT? I was like "Well I'm a native so I guess I don't notice it, hey, I really like your necklace."
This woman was in HR, by the way.
In Summary:
1. I learned a lesson.
2. I'm pleased with how I processed it all.
3. I'm glad I don't have to work with the lady who clearly has an opinion on living so close to the Mexican border.
My friend Dave, a man I respect very much and who is crazy smart in the world of the biz-nass, told me that when I look at a job description, I should totally have 1/3 of the required skills, be able to pretty much figure out 1/3 of the required skills, and that the last 1/3 should be stuff I'd have to stretch in order to figure out. I'm sure recruiters and hiring managers of the world might disagree, but Dave was looking at it from the personal and career development perspectives and I'm on board with that, so the 1/3 of this particular job that would have been a stretch didn't scare me.
I had three phone interviews with remote team members and nailed them all and then I had three in-person interviews last week. I was feeling very confident about the first two and everyone told me GLOWING things about the Director (to whom this position reports) and I was excited to knock her socks off during my third in-person interview.
Except then I fell flat on my face.
We didn't have a great rapport, which was a huge red flag because I can talk to just about anyone, but to make things worse, she asked me questions that, in retrospect, were kind of unfair. More specifically, I think they were trick questions. What I should have done was answered them in a "Defining exactly what an engaged employee looks like is very specific to the project, the organization, the company..." kind of way instead of trying to figure out what I thought an engaged employee at this particular company might look like because there's a 0% chance that I'd be able to guess.d
Blah blah blah, but I missed the boat on this question. I should have explained how I'd propose we go about defining it instead of trying to define it on the fly.
And boy howdy, I could tell the moment I screwed it up and my immediate instinct was to just get up and leave right then and there, but maybe I could salvage it? Except in order to salvage it, I needed to have a rapport with this lady and I just really DID NOT.
I left the interview totally knowing I wasn't going to get this job and I was really bummed about it for like 15 minutes and wishing I could have a do-over. Ultimately, I managed to talk myself into being okay with it and when I got my rejection e-mail yesterday I just deleted it and was appreciative that I had already mourned and recovered.
Kind of like when you're already OVER a man and by the time he finally gets around to saying "I'm just not that into you" you're like "Yeah, whatever Molasses...I cared a week ago but today I think you probably shouldn't let the door hit you on the ass."
Bonus Story:
One of the chicks who interviewed me told me that she just moved to San Francisco from Oregon and:
1. She just bought an apartment in The Infinity and told me that they've only sold like 20 units so far so she has the entire 31st floor to herself. She asked my opinion on buying a couch and dining table for her balcony and is the fall in SF really as nice as people say because at this point, she can't imagine having dinner parties out there with the weather as it has been? I suggested that she bite the bullet and go for it because even if she just has cocktail hour outside, it'll be worth it and if it's too cold, the dinners themselves could be held inside. Plus, just for kicks, why not buy a heat lamp too?
She thought I was very smart. Obvs, duh.
2. Her Oregon friends said that she couldn't wear her leather coat here and I was like "Uhh, I don't think the hippies are really going to give you trouble for a leather coat" and then she was like "Well, what if it has a fur collar and fur cuffs?" I didn't know what to tell her about that but lucky for me, she switched the subject to announce that "You know, living in California is like living in a foreign country, what with all that SPANISH that people are speaking." And then she rolled her eyes to accentuate her point.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Wow.
Instead of telling her that YOU DO REALIZE THAT CALIFORNIA IS NEXT TO MEXICO AND, IN FACT, USED TO BE PART OF MEXICO, RIGHT? I was like "Well I'm a native so I guess I don't notice it, hey, I really like your necklace."
This woman was in HR, by the way.
In Summary:
1. I learned a lesson.
2. I'm pleased with how I processed it all.
3. I'm glad I don't have to work with the lady who clearly has an opinion on living so close to the Mexican border.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
1. I get to babysit my SWEET, WONDERFUL nephew on Monday night. GRANDMA, EAT YOUR HEART OUT!!!
2. I'm between projects at work and my main accomplishment of the day was clearing 200+ unread items from my Serious Eats queue. As a result, I bring you the #1 thing I never thought I'd eat, but that has now been cemented into the OH HELLLL NO category:
On second thought, I'm not going to post the picture here directly but instead, I'm going to make you click for it. Chicken feet always seemed horrifying, but reading about how you have to clip their toenails before you cook them really brought the horror to a whole new level.
3. Another gem from my day-o-blog-reading:
If that's not full of WTF, I don't know what is.
4. In other news:
A. We celebrated my brothers' 30th birthday on Saturday. I got Ben a gift card to his favorite frozen yogurt place (he has one, apparently) because Sarah said he'd LOVE it and I was like "Ehhhh...it's frozen yogurt...is this really 30TH BIRTHDAY WOO HOO??" Except whoa -- Sarah was right -- he just about did backflips.
You learn something new every day.
B. The guy on the other side of the cube wall could stop grunting any time now and I'd be happy.
C. I listed my apartment for rent on Craigslist and I have two people coming to look at it tomorrow night. Luckily, I don't HAVE TO get a renter RIGHT THIS MINUTE because I'm going to move this month one way or another, but I'm hoping that one of these two chicks wants it so I can wash my hands of this process.
One of them wants to move in 8/15 which puts me in a bit of a time crunch because, if you've noticed, there's only one weekend between now and 8/15 and I'll have to move on 8/14 which, CONVENIENTLY, is my birthday. No big whoop or anything except I somehow got the whole family to agree to come to SF for dinner on my birthday (a feat, let me tell you).
So we'll see. I'm working on being patient about it all, but trying to keep the place in relative order until someone commits to renting it is making me crazy because there's so much to do and I have to sit on my hands to keep from packing more boxes and creating more mess.
2. I'm between projects at work and my main accomplishment of the day was clearing 200+ unread items from my Serious Eats queue. As a result, I bring you the #1 thing I never thought I'd eat, but that has now been cemented into the OH HELLLL NO category:
On second thought, I'm not going to post the picture here directly but instead, I'm going to make you click for it. Chicken feet always seemed horrifying, but reading about how you have to clip their toenails before you cook them really brought the horror to a whole new level.
3. Another gem from my day-o-blog-reading:
If that's not full of WTF, I don't know what is.
4. In other news:
A. We celebrated my brothers' 30th birthday on Saturday. I got Ben a gift card to his favorite frozen yogurt place (he has one, apparently) because Sarah said he'd LOVE it and I was like "Ehhhh...it's frozen yogurt...is this really 30TH BIRTHDAY WOO HOO??" Except whoa -- Sarah was right -- he just about did backflips.
You learn something new every day.
B. The guy on the other side of the cube wall could stop grunting any time now and I'd be happy.
C. I listed my apartment for rent on Craigslist and I have two people coming to look at it tomorrow night. Luckily, I don't HAVE TO get a renter RIGHT THIS MINUTE because I'm going to move this month one way or another, but I'm hoping that one of these two chicks wants it so I can wash my hands of this process.
One of them wants to move in 8/15 which puts me in a bit of a time crunch because, if you've noticed, there's only one weekend between now and 8/15 and I'll have to move on 8/14 which, CONVENIENTLY, is my birthday. No big whoop or anything except I somehow got the whole family to agree to come to SF for dinner on my birthday (a feat, let me tell you).
So we'll see. I'm working on being patient about it all, but trying to keep the place in relative order until someone commits to renting it is making me crazy because there's so much to do and I have to sit on my hands to keep from packing more boxes and creating more mess.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Lavender and Pie
Okay, #1, I have to repost that video of my sweet, wonderful nephew. Not because he's doing anything but sitting there staring at the crazy lady asking him what he's doing over and over again and thinking "I'M LOOKING AT YOU, THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING, DUMMY!" but because he's just so cute I can't stand it.
But now that's out of the way, I can share the main reason for this post:
It's a "Prodigal Pen" and I don't know what that is, other than my friend Leslie was listening to me whine about the constant breakouts on my chin and claimed to know of a magical little pen thing that would clear up my spots lickety split.
I was skeptical but she brought me one a few weeks ago and OH MY GOSH INTERNET, I have to tell you:
It's awesome.
Breakout? What breakout?
GONE!
Like magic.
Like this chick whose review I found when I went Googling for more info, I only use it a couple of times a day instead of the 4-5 times a day the instructions suggest and VIOLA! Clear skin.
The onnnnly downside is that it's made up of a bunch of essential oils so it's very scented. I feel like my chin smells like lavender and pie, but this is a small price to pay for continued gorgeousness.
Unrelated:
I am currently chewing a half piece of gum I found at the bottom of my purse. I am reminded of how, when desperate for gum, I've been known to chew the gum at the bottom of Carrie's purse, which comes with free tobacco flakes stuck to it.
But now that's out of the way, I can share the main reason for this post:
It's a "Prodigal Pen" and I don't know what that is, other than my friend Leslie was listening to me whine about the constant breakouts on my chin and claimed to know of a magical little pen thing that would clear up my spots lickety split.
I was skeptical but she brought me one a few weeks ago and OH MY GOSH INTERNET, I have to tell you:
It's awesome.
Breakout? What breakout?
GONE!
Like magic.
Like this chick whose review I found when I went Googling for more info, I only use it a couple of times a day instead of the 4-5 times a day the instructions suggest and VIOLA! Clear skin.
The onnnnly downside is that it's made up of a bunch of essential oils so it's very scented. I feel like my chin smells like lavender and pie, but this is a small price to pay for continued gorgeousness.
Unrelated:
I am currently chewing a half piece of gum I found at the bottom of my purse. I am reminded of how, when desperate for gum, I've been known to chew the gum at the bottom of Carrie's purse, which comes with free tobacco flakes stuck to it.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Thunder Thighs
A few years ago I had a less-than-awesome experience at one of those laser hair removal places that involved:
1. Being told my thighs were so big that they'd need to reschedule me for more time because of how big my big, fat thighs were and PS, your thighs are huge with a side of giant.
2. Me saying UM WHATEVER GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK.
3. Them ignoring me.
4. Me calling the freaking ABC TV station and getting their consumer guy involved.
5. Them ignoring him.
6. Him getting his feathers ALL kinds of ruffled.
7. Them finally, after several months, giving me my money back and then telling me I was no longer welcome at their facility.
8. Me writing a bad Yelp review.
And for whatever reason, when a new company (BriteSmile) bought the old company (Pure MedSpa), all the old company's Yelp reviews followed the new company so the new company is understandably motivated to get those old reviews fixed up. Soooo, guess who got an e-mail from the new company asking me to contact them so they could rectify the situation and maybe I'd be so satisfied I'd be willing to rewrite and/or delete my old review?
ME!
I called the lady back today but she wasn't there so I'm interested to see what they're gonna offer me and it had better be something more exciting than a bottle of moisturizer or whatever.
1. Being told my thighs were so big that they'd need to reschedule me for more time because of how big my big, fat thighs were and PS, your thighs are huge with a side of giant.
2. Me saying UM WHATEVER GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK.
3. Them ignoring me.
4. Me calling the freaking ABC TV station and getting their consumer guy involved.
5. Them ignoring him.
6. Him getting his feathers ALL kinds of ruffled.
7. Them finally, after several months, giving me my money back and then telling me I was no longer welcome at their facility.
8. Me writing a bad Yelp review.
And for whatever reason, when a new company (BriteSmile) bought the old company (Pure MedSpa), all the old company's Yelp reviews followed the new company so the new company is understandably motivated to get those old reviews fixed up. Soooo, guess who got an e-mail from the new company asking me to contact them so they could rectify the situation and maybe I'd be so satisfied I'd be willing to rewrite and/or delete my old review?
ME!
I called the lady back today but she wasn't there so I'm interested to see what they're gonna offer me and it had better be something more exciting than a bottle of moisturizer or whatever.
Things
1. I am so glad that Jillian picked Ed. If she didn't want him, I'd have been FIRST IN LINE. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, then never mind.
2. My brother just called to tell me that Laurina's work schedule got switched up so that now they're both working the same overnight shifts and CRAP they need to figure out a child care plan and I was like OMG GIVE ME THAT BABY I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF HIM! So maybe...we'll see. I will sleep with him in his crib if I have to.
3. My parents have been less than inspired when coming up with Family Night menus lately because my mom is a crazy picky eater and we are doing Weight Watchers and Sarah is a vegetarian (pescatarian, I guess because she does eat fish but that just sounds toooooo hippie dippie so I'd rather say "vegetarian who eats fish") and we often end up with bbq'd chicken and shrimp and salad. That's lovely and all, but not every week, so last week I put myself in charge of dinner and we had turkey tacos, fish tacos and a hearts of palm, tomato and avocado salad:
My mom is not a taco eater but she likes all the things that go INTO tacos but you put them all together and call it a taco and she'll suddenly think that it's too spicy and OMG SHE MIGHT DIE. But I know my audience so I substituted paprika for the chili powder in the fish recipe and TA DA! Not spicy, but still pretty. It was salty though, which is saying something if *I'M* the one calling it salty. Rachael Ray's recipe called for two tablespoons of salt but that seemed like a lot so I halved it and it was still too salty.
I loved the hearts of palm salad but it was too adventurous for the family so 80% of it ended up in the trash. Poor avocados and tomatoes and hearts of palm. I'd totally make it again, but not for the family.
4. This book was RIDICULOUS:
Madonna's brother is a martyr who complains and then complains some more. I didn't pay for it though so if anyone wants to read it next, please allow me to pass this copy along instead of giving that complainer any money. And if my brothers become world wide pop stars, MARK MY WORDS, I will never complain that they don't book me in a suite when we travel.
5. I've been skewering a lot of things lately:
This one turned out to be something I'd probably feed to other people (unlike most of the food I cook for myself). In fact, maybe my family will soon be enjoying grilled mushrooms, red onions and turkey sausage at an upcoming Family Night!
6. That video I posted last week? I couldn't wait to try out the banana opening technique so when I saw bananas at my local coffee joint the other day, I bought one and documented the process.
Step One:
Step Two:
Step Three:
Success!
The only problem with this method is that I've NEVER been one to eat all the way down to the end of a banana because I hate the idea of eating that black stem thing and this method forces you to actually do something about the black stem thing before you can eat your banana. However, I am frequently banana challenged and this method was lickety split easy so I might have to get over myself and just eat the black thing.
7. Sometimes the predictive searches that come up when I'm tying something into Google really kill me:
8. My iPhone sucks at the far away detail shots but that black thing standing above that chick in the yellow shirt is Huey Lewis:
We have family visiting from England right now and Lyn is like Huey Lewis's ONLY English mega fan so when they figured out when they were coming to visit, we figured out of Huey would be touring anywhere nearby so she could get her fix. The closest show was at the Lake Tahoe Music Festival and I like Huey enough to drive her up there so we went!
It was a whirlwind trip -- there and back in one day -- but it was totally worth it. The concert was held on a golf course in Truckee and it was ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL (as most things in the Tahoe area are) and I'd love to do it again next year, but I'd like to spend the night up there so I could join in on the wine drinking and not have to drive home.
Lyn was amazed at the elaborate picnics people brought and how much drinking was going on (it was BYO wine and picnic, but you could buy wine and BBQ there if you wanted to), which I guess makes sense because they couldn't have outdoor events like that in England. But here? HECK YEAH people here go to town with the wine and the cheese and the delicious looking things being pulled out of coolers all around us.
The only thing that kinda put a damper on the night was that the organization of the event was kinda hokey pokey and the earlier you got there (as we did), the further away from the actual venue you had to park and you couldn't really just walk there so you had to wait for shuttles, which were slow in coming. But okay, fine, we can be patient...except that DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS when you get a few thousand old, wealthy, white people together? THEY BITCH TO NO END about the "public transportation" (uhhh..they were Northstar ski shuttles...it was a VERY FAR CRY from the horrors of Muni, for example) and about the INJUSTICE of having to park so far away when the people who got here later got to park closer and OH MY GOD LET'S ALL BITCH ABOUT IT TOGETHER!
I wanted to respect my elders and I didn't want to embarrass Lyn but if the shuttle hadn't come when it did, I would have told them all to SHUT THEIR FACES BECAUSE YES, I THINK WE ALL UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE NOT HAPPY!
They got each other allllll riled up, I tell you.
The ring leader was a PIECE OF WORK, WHO, as it turns out, didn't even have a "preferred" ticket like we did and no matter what time she got there, she would have been in the back. Some people really just complain to complain and boy howdy, it's unattractive.
But once we escaped that lady and her "THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE *WILL* BE HEARING ABOUT *THIS*!" drama, we settled into our sand chairs (the required BYO seating) and people watched.
And ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Internet...the people watching was awesome. I could go on and on but I'll just summarize:
A. They all looked the same: The men in Tommy Bahama shirts and the women with complicated hairdos, collagen-filled lips (with lip liner) and big diamonds on their fingers. Mutton dressed as lamb, my mother would say.
B. I'd be willing to bet they were all on their 2nd marriages, at least.
C. We were playing "Spot the Under 40s" and there were a few, but they were ALL with their parents.
D. It's well established that white guys can't dance, right? Well imagine OLD white guys trying to dance. It's a sight to see.
But really, it was a warm, beautiful, perfect night, we were super close to Huey but not so close that we could see his wrinkles, and I'd totally love to go back again.
2. My brother just called to tell me that Laurina's work schedule got switched up so that now they're both working the same overnight shifts and CRAP they need to figure out a child care plan and I was like OMG GIVE ME THAT BABY I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF HIM! So maybe...we'll see. I will sleep with him in his crib if I have to.
3. My parents have been less than inspired when coming up with Family Night menus lately because my mom is a crazy picky eater and we are doing Weight Watchers and Sarah is a vegetarian (pescatarian, I guess because she does eat fish but that just sounds toooooo hippie dippie so I'd rather say "vegetarian who eats fish") and we often end up with bbq'd chicken and shrimp and salad. That's lovely and all, but not every week, so last week I put myself in charge of dinner and we had turkey tacos, fish tacos and a hearts of palm, tomato and avocado salad:
My mom is not a taco eater but she likes all the things that go INTO tacos but you put them all together and call it a taco and she'll suddenly think that it's too spicy and OMG SHE MIGHT DIE. But I know my audience so I substituted paprika for the chili powder in the fish recipe and TA DA! Not spicy, but still pretty. It was salty though, which is saying something if *I'M* the one calling it salty. Rachael Ray's recipe called for two tablespoons of salt but that seemed like a lot so I halved it and it was still too salty.
I loved the hearts of palm salad but it was too adventurous for the family so 80% of it ended up in the trash. Poor avocados and tomatoes and hearts of palm. I'd totally make it again, but not for the family.
4. This book was RIDICULOUS:
Madonna's brother is a martyr who complains and then complains some more. I didn't pay for it though so if anyone wants to read it next, please allow me to pass this copy along instead of giving that complainer any money. And if my brothers become world wide pop stars, MARK MY WORDS, I will never complain that they don't book me in a suite when we travel.
5. I've been skewering a lot of things lately:
This one turned out to be something I'd probably feed to other people (unlike most of the food I cook for myself). In fact, maybe my family will soon be enjoying grilled mushrooms, red onions and turkey sausage at an upcoming Family Night!
6. That video I posted last week? I couldn't wait to try out the banana opening technique so when I saw bananas at my local coffee joint the other day, I bought one and documented the process.
Step One:
Step Two:
Step Three:
Success!
The only problem with this method is that I've NEVER been one to eat all the way down to the end of a banana because I hate the idea of eating that black stem thing and this method forces you to actually do something about the black stem thing before you can eat your banana. However, I am frequently banana challenged and this method was lickety split easy so I might have to get over myself and just eat the black thing.
7. Sometimes the predictive searches that come up when I'm tying something into Google really kill me:
8. My iPhone sucks at the far away detail shots but that black thing standing above that chick in the yellow shirt is Huey Lewis:
We have family visiting from England right now and Lyn is like Huey Lewis's ONLY English mega fan so when they figured out when they were coming to visit, we figured out of Huey would be touring anywhere nearby so she could get her fix. The closest show was at the Lake Tahoe Music Festival and I like Huey enough to drive her up there so we went!
It was a whirlwind trip -- there and back in one day -- but it was totally worth it. The concert was held on a golf course in Truckee and it was ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL (as most things in the Tahoe area are) and I'd love to do it again next year, but I'd like to spend the night up there so I could join in on the wine drinking and not have to drive home.
Lyn was amazed at the elaborate picnics people brought and how much drinking was going on (it was BYO wine and picnic, but you could buy wine and BBQ there if you wanted to), which I guess makes sense because they couldn't have outdoor events like that in England. But here? HECK YEAH people here go to town with the wine and the cheese and the delicious looking things being pulled out of coolers all around us.
The only thing that kinda put a damper on the night was that the organization of the event was kinda hokey pokey and the earlier you got there (as we did), the further away from the actual venue you had to park and you couldn't really just walk there so you had to wait for shuttles, which were slow in coming. But okay, fine, we can be patient...except that DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS when you get a few thousand old, wealthy, white people together? THEY BITCH TO NO END about the "public transportation" (uhhh..they were Northstar ski shuttles...it was a VERY FAR CRY from the horrors of Muni, for example) and about the INJUSTICE of having to park so far away when the people who got here later got to park closer and OH MY GOD LET'S ALL BITCH ABOUT IT TOGETHER!
I wanted to respect my elders and I didn't want to embarrass Lyn but if the shuttle hadn't come when it did, I would have told them all to SHUT THEIR FACES BECAUSE YES, I THINK WE ALL UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE NOT HAPPY!
They got each other allllll riled up, I tell you.
The ring leader was a PIECE OF WORK, WHO, as it turns out, didn't even have a "preferred" ticket like we did and no matter what time she got there, she would have been in the back. Some people really just complain to complain and boy howdy, it's unattractive.
But once we escaped that lady and her "THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE *WILL* BE HEARING ABOUT *THIS*!" drama, we settled into our sand chairs (the required BYO seating) and people watched.
And ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Internet...the people watching was awesome. I could go on and on but I'll just summarize:
A. They all looked the same: The men in Tommy Bahama shirts and the women with complicated hairdos, collagen-filled lips (with lip liner) and big diamonds on their fingers. Mutton dressed as lamb, my mother would say.
B. I'd be willing to bet they were all on their 2nd marriages, at least.
C. We were playing "Spot the Under 40s" and there were a few, but they were ALL with their parents.
D. It's well established that white guys can't dance, right? Well imagine OLD white guys trying to dance. It's a sight to see.
But really, it was a warm, beautiful, perfect night, we were super close to Huey but not so close that we could see his wrinkles, and I'd totally love to go back again.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Stuff I read today
It's Friday, I had a beast of a day at work yesterday so I'm chillaxing today. I can't string enough words together to justify a whole post so instead, here are some things that make me love the internet.
I know people who might think this is a good idea:
True story: I was sitting at my friend Christa's rehearsal dinner and the trainwreck wife of one of the groomsmen decided that THIS was the moment she wanted to overshare so she goes "WHO WANTS TO SEE MY UTERUS??" and whipped an ultrasound photo out of her purse. Except it wasn't even of a baby -- it was of a cyst or something. It's kind a bummer that chick and her husband have since divorced because the well of "OH MY GOD YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT MARNIE DID" stories has dried up.
If you've never had an Indian taco, you don't know what you're missing:
I can't imagine putting forth the effort to make the fry bread myself, but maybe one day. One of the biggest reasons to miss Burning Man is that I'm missing out of my annual Indian taco, which they sell all along the road to get there. I've never stopped for one on the way there, generally because we're full of HURRY UP AND GET THERE excitement but on the way out, it's $5 worth of the most delicious comfort food on the planet.
I love everything on this site, but here's a recent one:
BEFORE
AFTER
These are ADORABLE and I'd totally try to make them but I GUARANTEE that I'd spend hours and hours trying to get them perfect only to fail and throw them away:
They're cakes, btw...not actual peaches.
This makes me want to run out and find a banana:
I know people who might think this is a good idea:
True story: I was sitting at my friend Christa's rehearsal dinner and the trainwreck wife of one of the groomsmen decided that THIS was the moment she wanted to overshare so she goes "WHO WANTS TO SEE MY UTERUS??" and whipped an ultrasound photo out of her purse. Except it wasn't even of a baby -- it was of a cyst or something. It's kind a bummer that chick and her husband have since divorced because the well of "OH MY GOD YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT MARNIE DID" stories has dried up.
If you've never had an Indian taco, you don't know what you're missing:
I can't imagine putting forth the effort to make the fry bread myself, but maybe one day. One of the biggest reasons to miss Burning Man is that I'm missing out of my annual Indian taco, which they sell all along the road to get there. I've never stopped for one on the way there, generally because we're full of HURRY UP AND GET THERE excitement but on the way out, it's $5 worth of the most delicious comfort food on the planet.
I love everything on this site, but here's a recent one:
BEFORE
AFTER
These are ADORABLE and I'd totally try to make them but I GUARANTEE that I'd spend hours and hours trying to get them perfect only to fail and throw them away:
They're cakes, btw...not actual peaches.
This makes me want to run out and find a banana:
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Seven within 24 hours. Oh my gosh.
Okay so FOUR SCORE AND SEVEN YEARS AGO, my friend CK came to visit me from the land of the Texas. He comes out here every May and this year, instead of his traditional Cinco de Mayo visit, we decided that he should come later in the month so he could experience Bay to Breakers.
He is always up for anything and he's a really awesome date so while he was here, we decided that we would have a digestive BONANZA:
1. We would try to hit as many things as we could from the list of 100 Things that I've been working my way through.
2. We were going to make all the weird food crap we've seen on the internet over the years and invite our friends over to clog their arteries.
Gluttony at it's best.
He arrived on a Thursday evening and we promptly went back to my apartment to make Colorado Bulldogs and devise a game plan:
First up: #37, Rotisserie chicken at Limon.
We cabbed out to EGYPT (not really, it felt like it) and eventually got seated, where we enjoyed the most delicious sangria I've ever had and the most delicious rotisserie chicken EVER in the history of the whole entire world:
It was SOOOO good (HOW GOOD WAS IT?) that I've since been back two more times. In a city with as many dining options as San Francisco, I hardly ever go back to the same place twice, much less THREE times in the matter of only a month or so.
All nice and liquored up from the Colorado Bulldogs and the pitcher of sangria, we headed over to my favorite drag queen bar where we proceeded to do sticky sweet shot after sticky sweet shot after sticky sweet shot with Cliff, my up-until-recently-favorite-bartender-ever:
We eventually stumbled home and woke up the next morning, expectedly a teeny bit hungover.
But you know what? We're TROOPERS! We had a list of 100 things to tackle, starting with brunch. And really, eggs benedict cures allll, right? So we beautified and made it over to #77 for eggs benedict on the back patio of Zazie.
You know how when you're dealing with the aftermath of being over-served, the laaast thing you want is another drink even though you know it'll make you feel better? Hair of the dog? Yuck. So we enjoyed our pancakes and eggs with much gentler beverages:
And after some quality time kicking around town, going to that strange pirate store in the Mission, driving up to the Marin headlands and some couch lounging, we mustered up the energy to head out for lunch: #40, a cheeseburger at Taylor's.
I'm kind of an "a burger is a burger is a burger" kind of girl and it was good, but not THE BEST BURGER EVER, OMG.
After the burgers, we had lackluster ginger snaps at Miette (#49) and killed some time people watching at the Ferry Building.
That's not us, btw. We were the people behind them going "This ginger snap kinda sucks. This lavender flavored marshmallow tastes like soap. What time does the bar open?"
We decided to head over to Union Square so we'd be closer to our next list item when it opened (#30, the Laughing Buddha cocktail at Cantina) and OMG ON OUR WAY OVER WE SAW A CELEBRITY!
Kinda.
We saw my internet homie Joel, who I've had a mutual blog-reading friendship with for like 100 years now. He was behind us on the escalator going down to Muni and -- this is horrible -- he recognized me by my jeans, which means two things:
1. I've posted way too many pictures of myself over the years wearing the same damn pair of jeans.
2. I probably need new jeans.
The jeans as seen on that particular day:
The funny thing is that Joel was kind of a part of my weekend anyway so seeing him was SO TOTALLY FITTING:
A. The weird food party was his original idea, I think.
B. We'd already made plans to look for each other at Bay to Breakers. He was planning on running (like, for reals...not with beer-in-hand), I was planning on spectating.
We rode together for a couple of stops and dorked out at running into each other and then it was time for CK and I to get off the train and Joel continued on his way to go pick up his race bib and be a healthy citizen.
High on the excitement of my celebrity sighting, we went to the Gold Dust Lounge, one of my favorite drinking-in-the-middle-of-the-day bars and FINALLY had the hair of the dog we'd been needing.
After the Gold Dust, we went to Cantina and had memorable-if-only-because-they-were-gross cocktails that really had no business being on the list:
AND OH MY GOSH I'M GETTING TIRED OF WRITING THIS AND WE'RE STILL ONLY ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON!!!!!!!
We bought sunglasses (NOT Ed Hardy ones...psssscha):
We had #93, seven courses of beef at Pagolac. I don't have any pictures but it was an interactive dining experience and not at all as overwhelmingly gluttonous as it sounds.
After dinner we had #48, Angels on Horseback at Anchor & Hope but since it turns out we don't like oysters (even fried and wrapped in bacon), we really just drank champagne and poked at our plates.
Plus, hello, it had been a DAY OF EATING.
We were full.
More gluttony tomorrow. Or later. Whenever.
He is always up for anything and he's a really awesome date so while he was here, we decided that we would have a digestive BONANZA:
1. We would try to hit as many things as we could from the list of 100 Things that I've been working my way through.
2. We were going to make all the weird food crap we've seen on the internet over the years and invite our friends over to clog their arteries.
Gluttony at it's best.
He arrived on a Thursday evening and we promptly went back to my apartment to make Colorado Bulldogs and devise a game plan:
First up: #37, Rotisserie chicken at Limon.
We cabbed out to EGYPT (not really, it felt like it) and eventually got seated, where we enjoyed the most delicious sangria I've ever had and the most delicious rotisserie chicken EVER in the history of the whole entire world:
It was SOOOO good (HOW GOOD WAS IT?) that I've since been back two more times. In a city with as many dining options as San Francisco, I hardly ever go back to the same place twice, much less THREE times in the matter of only a month or so.
All nice and liquored up from the Colorado Bulldogs and the pitcher of sangria, we headed over to my favorite drag queen bar where we proceeded to do sticky sweet shot after sticky sweet shot after sticky sweet shot with Cliff, my up-until-recently-favorite-bartender-ever:
We eventually stumbled home and woke up the next morning, expectedly a teeny bit hungover.
But you know what? We're TROOPERS! We had a list of 100 things to tackle, starting with brunch. And really, eggs benedict cures allll, right? So we beautified and made it over to #77 for eggs benedict on the back patio of Zazie.
You know how when you're dealing with the aftermath of being over-served, the laaast thing you want is another drink even though you know it'll make you feel better? Hair of the dog? Yuck. So we enjoyed our pancakes and eggs with much gentler beverages:
And after some quality time kicking around town, going to that strange pirate store in the Mission, driving up to the Marin headlands and some couch lounging, we mustered up the energy to head out for lunch: #40, a cheeseburger at Taylor's.
I'm kind of an "a burger is a burger is a burger" kind of girl and it was good, but not THE BEST BURGER EVER, OMG.
After the burgers, we had lackluster ginger snaps at Miette (#49) and killed some time people watching at the Ferry Building.
That's not us, btw. We were the people behind them going "This ginger snap kinda sucks. This lavender flavored marshmallow tastes like soap. What time does the bar open?"
We decided to head over to Union Square so we'd be closer to our next list item when it opened (#30, the Laughing Buddha cocktail at Cantina) and OMG ON OUR WAY OVER WE SAW A CELEBRITY!
Kinda.
We saw my internet homie Joel, who I've had a mutual blog-reading friendship with for like 100 years now. He was behind us on the escalator going down to Muni and -- this is horrible -- he recognized me by my jeans, which means two things:
1. I've posted way too many pictures of myself over the years wearing the same damn pair of jeans.
2. I probably need new jeans.
The jeans as seen on that particular day:
The funny thing is that Joel was kind of a part of my weekend anyway so seeing him was SO TOTALLY FITTING:
A. The weird food party was his original idea, I think.
B. We'd already made plans to look for each other at Bay to Breakers. He was planning on running (like, for reals...not with beer-in-hand), I was planning on spectating.
We rode together for a couple of stops and dorked out at running into each other and then it was time for CK and I to get off the train and Joel continued on his way to go pick up his race bib and be a healthy citizen.
High on the excitement of my celebrity sighting, we went to the Gold Dust Lounge, one of my favorite drinking-in-the-middle-of-the-day bars and FINALLY had the hair of the dog we'd been needing.
After the Gold Dust, we went to Cantina and had memorable-if-only-because-they-were-gross cocktails that really had no business being on the list:
AND OH MY GOSH I'M GETTING TIRED OF WRITING THIS AND WE'RE STILL ONLY ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON!!!!!!!
We bought sunglasses (NOT Ed Hardy ones...psssscha):
We had #93, seven courses of beef at Pagolac. I don't have any pictures but it was an interactive dining experience and not at all as overwhelmingly gluttonous as it sounds.
After dinner we had #48, Angels on Horseback at Anchor & Hope but since it turns out we don't like oysters (even fried and wrapped in bacon), we really just drank champagne and poked at our plates.
Plus, hello, it had been a DAY OF EATING.
We were full.
More gluttony tomorrow. Or later. Whenever.
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