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.

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.

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.

Why so srs?

It's no surprise that I've been thinking about moving back to San Jose. There are two big draws:

1. BABY! He doesn't currrrrrently live in San Jose, but Grandma and Grandpa live in San Jose and they have a lot of pull when it comes to getting quality baby time, so the closer I am to them, the closer I can be to him.

2. I work in San Jose and the commute is a bitch. An expensive, expensive bitch. Plus, driving 100 miles a day, five days a week means that I've put 18,000 miles on my new car and it's only nine months old.

Of course, I own my apartment in San Francisco, this isn't a good time to sell and even if I could sell and make money on it, I'm afraid to sell it because I'd never get another mortgage, what with the whole "no longer giving mortgages to people who can't afford them" thing.

So there's that.

But I could rent it out and more than cover my rent in San Jose.

Except that then I sit back and I think about the hole I dug for myself when I was unemployed for the better part of 2008 and how I'm never going to get out of it if I'm still spending all this money every month trying to keep living in San Francisco and working in San Jose.

And then the delicate balance of my current situation is only something I can maintain, however painfully, if I continue to have a job. THIS job, specifically. Or, not THIS job, but a job in this salary range which, I'm afraid, I might be underqualified to find again if I had to.

I am ONE MILLION PERCENT lucky that my parents have been as supportive as they have and that, if I wanted to, I could stay in San Francisco and just hope for the best and if all else fails, I know they'd have my back. My too-old-for-Mommy-and-Daddy's-help back, but they'd have it nonetheless.

But then I wonder if maybe my newly heightened fear of losing my job is a warning sign and that I should take this opportunity to get my ducks in a row when I don't HAVE to, but when it's still an optional thing. If I don't do it, I'm afraid I'll look back in a year and wish that I could go back to the summer of 2009 and do things differently.

One of my resolutions for 2009 was to move back to San Jose. I was SO OVER San Francisco. But now when I look back on that I know this decision was made when I was coming out of the Great Funk of 2008 and now, several months later, I don't really want to go. All I can think about is how DUMB it is for a single person to move to San Jose ON PURPOSE and how I'll never have delicious brunch EVER AGAIN. I love San Jose and if I ever have a family, I'll want to do it there...but now? Ehhhh.

BUT THEN when I house sat for Ben and Sarah for several days this past spring, I fell back in love with the idea of suburban life. Everything seemed so easy! Look at that! A life free of elevators and parking garages and choosing between open windows or hearing the TV! Luxury!

So I don't know.

Then yesterday my friend Leslie asked me if I was still planning to move because her friend is looking for a place in my neighborhood. I told her that I was waiting for something specific to get me to get up off my ass and do it and I don't know if this exact potential renter will want my place, but it did get me thinking.

Maybe I should rent my place out and move in with my parents for several months so I can pocket the rent and get my shit together and then, as a result, feel better about myself and feel less trapped by my financial neeeeeed to keep climbing the corporate ladder?

I spent about a year with my parents right before I bought my apartment and I really never thought I'd consider it as an option again, but have you noticed? Things are sucky right now. While there is some shame in this option, there would be more shame in losing my job again and having to ask my parents for a mortgage payment.

I'm all for tightening my belt as we alllllll ride out the current economic fiasco but my belt has felt really tight for three years now and it hurrrrrrts. The trade off will be that I'd be 33 and living with MY PARENTS. My parents are great, but maaaaan, I'm sitting here wondering why I thought it was okay to kill time at Bloomingdale's when I was UNEMPLOYED.

But daaaaamn, I looked good.

I looked around my apartment last night and thought about how pretty it is and how much I love it and how, if I moved back in with my parents I'd be living with the ironing board and a strange bamboo curtain that my dad must have found in a dumpster somewhere and decided that he'd not only use it as a closet door in the guest room but, WHY NOT just hang that extra six inches of bamboo curtain on the wall and pretend it's art??!!

I'll be sad to leave my beautiful apartment and my beautiful things for the Tiki/Victorian-themed guest room but when I think about all the money I'll save it makes me want to roll around in $100 bills.

I'm house sitting for Ben and Sarah again this weekend and I'm hoping that I'll get bitten by the suburban bug again and if I do, I'm gonna start packing things up. I'm also hoping that when I finally make the decision to do it, I'll feel the same relief I felt the first time I decided to move back home.

My budget spreadsheet is currently titled "Poor." Maybe one day I can change it to "Okay."

Ohhhhh, the anticipation of the spreadsheet renaming!!!

My dad flew around the bay and boy are his arms tired.

Before I get to the B-17 BONANZA, I want to just get this off my chest:

Ben & Sarah are on vacation right now and I feel all full of angst that they're not safe and sound at home. It occurred to me that *I'M* usually the one off on the adventure...I'm not used to being the one at home, worrying about the ones who are away.

So, sorry for flying here and there and not really ever considering anyone's concern for my well-being.

Also -- I was telling my mom that I checked their flight from NYC to Dublin to make sure it would arrive in time for them to make their connection to Madrid and seeing right there on my computer screen that Ben and Sarah were flying in the air RIGHT THAT MOMENT was unnerving. I mean, duh, I know that when people go places they fly in airplanes and that airplanes go up in the sky and...uh...FLY, but it's usually something people are going to do or have just finished doing. I'd rather not think about my loved ones hurtling through the air. Over an ocean.

But speaking of flying, this oldfangled airplane was in town for a couple of days and we heard that my dad really wanted to take a flight on it so we bought him a ride as an early Father's Day present. My mom and I spent our Saturday morning on the tarmac, taking 75,000 videos of us talking to each other. I'm having trouble embedding the videos, but really, they're not exciting...just me and my annoying voice that I'm sorry everyone I know has to listen to.

But here's the plane:

Speaking of how strange it is for the world wide internet to tell me that my brother is IN THE AIR RIGHT THIS MINUTE, here's a picture of a plane FLYING IN THE AIR with my father ON IT. In the air. Flying. Dangerously.

From his perspective:

A beautiful day for an airplane ride, no?

He lovvved it and I'm happy my mom and I could be there to watch.

Fun Fact:

Dave (the dog) licks his lips all night long and it jamaicas me crazy.

Solution:

Sleep with the ear plugs my dad gave me for the B-17 thing.

He's spending the night with my parents tonight and I am SO EXCITED to get an uninterrupted night's sleep because I love him, I reallllly do, but I don't know how anyone manages to share a bed with him.

This is probably another reason not to have children.

3D Technology

This post in one of the blogs I read is about the different 3D glasses necessary for different applications and I was reminded of a similar conversation my family had during the Superbowl -- half of us with our superbowl-related 3D glasses on while the other half waited for their turn (another reason Tivo is awesome). My dad commented that someone should sell non-throw-away 3D glasses because, I guess, you never know when a 3D viewing opportunity will arise.

Well Dad, we are clearly 3D novices because my suggestion that you go out and make your millions on non-throw-away 3D glasses was a bad one -- I had no idea there was more than one color combo for 3D glasses...but now, thanks to the magic of the internet, I know we'll never be millionaires.

Because of our non-throw-away 3D glasses business, anyway.

But anyway, this gives me reason enough to tell another 3D glasses realted story from the Superbowl:

Toward the end of the second quarter my brother Andrew jumped up and ran out to his car and returned with a page of punch-out 3D glasses and frantically started trying to separate them in time for the half-time 3D commerical bonanza. He sucked at this, by the way, but I think it's because he didn't grow up punching paper dolls and alllllllll of their clothing (with alllllllllllllllllllllllllll those little holder-onner-tabs on them) out of paper doll books. His Star Wars toys came pre-clothed, and all.

(But OMG I had this one paper doll who had a magnet in her torso and the clothes just stuck to her and I LOVED her even though her fringed denim catsuits and long, floral, hippie dresses weren't as stylish as my Barbie paper doll clothes. Even her hair was out of date -- Barbie had her BIG! GIANT! BLONDE! HAIR! and this doll's hair was long and brown and straight and parted down the middle...but maaaan, that's one thing from my childhood that I wish I'd kept.)

So after 75 hours, he handed the first pair of glasses over to my mom who commented that the left side said LEFT and the right side said RIGHT and I was like "Uhhh...I'd think the ear straps would be the main indicators that I had them on right, DUH."

OR SO YOU'D THINK, anyway.

Because once the 3D commercial came on my mom said that it didn't look very 3D to her and it took her several seconds to realize HER GLASSES WERE ON BACKWARDS.

And then when we handed off the glasses and rewound the commercials for others to see and my brother did the same damn thing.

I'm sure it's just that the ear straps got folded the wrong way, but it cracks me up to think of my mom wearing 3D glasses in the first place, so my mom wearing backwards 3D glasses is AWESOME.