It's sad to have to say this, but I must admit: I think some small part of my enjoyment in volunteering for the Santa Cruz Blues Festival every year is all the male attention I get.
This is probably because I live in San Francisco. Any other city, and I'd be sick of guys ogling my tits. But two days a year, I'm guaranteed hordes of dirty old (and some not-so-old) men talking to a point four inches below my chin for eight hours straight a day. And damn, does it make a girl feel giddy ... it's my male attention fix for the year. And I didn't even have to wear something fashionable or outrageous for the occasion!
This year I was "banished" to the coffee tent from my usual spot in the money tent, which I suppose works out because this is the first year I actually drink coffee. I got mad tips (see above!). I also learned how to work one of those fancy espresso machines, and how to make espresso shots, lattes and cappuccinos. Awesome.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
And Then the Month Became Suddenly Surreal
Today, on the way to Krav, I saw the President of the United States drive by in a motorcade. I saw his face, as he looked through the window at the crowds along the sidewalks and waved.
I guess he's in town for the moment. Huh.
I will admit, I had a moment of childish glee. But I managed to suppress any excited squeals that threatened to burst forth.
I guess he's in town for the moment. Huh.
I will admit, I had a moment of childish glee. But I managed to suppress any excited squeals that threatened to burst forth.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
May Be Chilly
I realized last night that some of my dishes had been waiting what had finally become weeks. I've been home so little in the last 14 days that the pileup had been gradual, until suddenly I was checking my cabinets and finding no clean bowls.
The weeks ... well, they were full. There was a lot of alcohol involved, especially in the first seven days of the last 14. The Big Work Meeting was a success (I think). Attendees very politely told me that my presentations were great and thorough. I will accept those compliments as honest, and try not to suspect that they were just being nice. I felt that they were pretty good, especially considering I'd been out until almost might the night before with a bunch of the out-of-towners. *innocent cough*
The rest can probably be stated best in pictures:
Yes, that is me indoor skydiving. It was actually a lot of fun — way more than one would expect for something so safe and middle-classy — and I would completely do it again.
Drinks at Whiskeys with Karen and Magi (and Don, too, not pictured).
Maker Faire with Josh and Chuck ... here they are way too pleased. I imagine it feels like they've found the best friend they had always dreamed of from boyhood. Below is me wielding a steampunk style gun.
Gods above, beware.
In other news, I've decided to let my JDate account lapse. For my $80 and two months, I got one whole lackluster date out of the experience. And a lot of cyber flirting with a guy from L.A. All-in-all, I'm not impressed ... so much for fulfilling my mother's dream of bringing home a nice Jewish guy for Thanksgiving. Bah. (The date itself may garner a post all its own if you guys want, but seriously ... it was so bland, it's probably not worth going into the details.)
I'm also scheduled to teach a yarn store owner how to knit a sock in the next couple weeks. The plan is if she thinks I taught her well enough, she'll add me to her schedule as a sock knitting instructor. I'll get to choose my own class times, rates (the store takes I think 50%), sizes ... and get a discount on yarn. It'd be a dream come true ... though probably bad for any goals of decreasing my yarn stash. Here's hoping. Though now I'll have to come up with a curriculum. Ack. Scary ... anyone have any advice from knitting classes they've taken in the past?
The weeks ... well, they were full. There was a lot of alcohol involved, especially in the first seven days of the last 14. The Big Work Meeting was a success (I think). Attendees very politely told me that my presentations were great and thorough. I will accept those compliments as honest, and try not to suspect that they were just being nice. I felt that they were pretty good, especially considering I'd been out until almost might the night before with a bunch of the out-of-towners. *innocent cough*
The rest can probably be stated best in pictures:
Yes, that is me indoor skydiving. It was actually a lot of fun — way more than one would expect for something so safe and middle-classy — and I would completely do it again.
Drinks at Whiskeys with Karen and Magi (and Don, too, not pictured).
Maker Faire with Josh and Chuck ... here they are way too pleased. I imagine it feels like they've found the best friend they had always dreamed of from boyhood. Below is me wielding a steampunk style gun.
Gods above, beware.
In other news, I've decided to let my JDate account lapse. For my $80 and two months, I got one whole lackluster date out of the experience. And a lot of cyber flirting with a guy from L.A. All-in-all, I'm not impressed ... so much for fulfilling my mother's dream of bringing home a nice Jewish guy for Thanksgiving. Bah. (The date itself may garner a post all its own if you guys want, but seriously ... it was so bland, it's probably not worth going into the details.)
I'm also scheduled to teach a yarn store owner how to knit a sock in the next couple weeks. The plan is if she thinks I taught her well enough, she'll add me to her schedule as a sock knitting instructor. I'll get to choose my own class times, rates (the store takes I think 50%), sizes ... and get a discount on yarn. It'd be a dream come true ... though probably bad for any goals of decreasing my yarn stash. Here's hoping. Though now I'll have to come up with a curriculum. Ack. Scary ... anyone have any advice from knitting classes they've taken in the past?
Friday, May 21, 2010
Sometimes
the cure just makes you wish for the disease.
My week of crazy busy-ness left me a bit exhausted, and the month of May continues to fill my social life with all sorts of goodies. I'll give an update soon, I promise. Maybe even tonight.
But first, work. And then, a glass of wine and (hopefully) a Sharks win. I'm glad it's Friday.
My week of crazy busy-ness left me a bit exhausted, and the month of May continues to fill my social life with all sorts of goodies. I'll give an update soon, I promise. Maybe even tonight.
But first, work. And then, a glass of wine and (hopefully) a Sharks win. I'm glad it's Friday.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Don't Forget the Phone Book
I'm two days into a nine-day bout of being too busy for my own good. Every night for the next seven days I've got work- and friend-related activities planned: it's the week of the big ol' three-day work meeting we've been getting ready for, and I've got plans for at least one of those days, if not two. I've also got interspersed throughout the week dinner or drinks plans with friends, culminating with a surprise visit from my one of my Portland friends, Elk, who will happen to be in town on this coming Sunday.
It's going to be a rather whirlwind week, all part of a whirlwind month — I'm booked every weekend day until June starts, from here on out. I don't know how I do this, and why everything can't spread itself out more evenly throughout the year. Not that I'm complaining too much ... being this social keeps me from being curled up in my apartment wallowing in self-pity. Or something.
This weekend was full of family activity for Mother's Day: Saturday with the paternal side, Sunday with the maternal side. I went down and spent last night Chez Parents, mostly because my mom likes having a house full of her children. I also got to play with my nephew a bit, and applaud his latest trick: rolling around on the floor. I'm so proud of him.
(Oh, my lord: I have indeed become one of those aunts, haven't I?)
Tonight, I got my first crank call in a few years: some guy claiming to have found my number at a strip joint. (Ha, ha. So funny.) What didn't bother me so much was his knowing my name, but more when he started reciting a familiar address — I hung up on him mid-call. I should have been smart and mocked him for being so "clever" in being able to use a phone book, but of course we never think of these things at the time. It did remind me to check the phone book to verify that the same address he mentioned is actually what's in there. And it's also making me jump at the slightest odd household sound. Hooray, paranoia, welcome back.
Time to sharpen my Krav Maga skills.
It's going to be a rather whirlwind week, all part of a whirlwind month — I'm booked every weekend day until June starts, from here on out. I don't know how I do this, and why everything can't spread itself out more evenly throughout the year. Not that I'm complaining too much ... being this social keeps me from being curled up in my apartment wallowing in self-pity. Or something.
This weekend was full of family activity for Mother's Day: Saturday with the paternal side, Sunday with the maternal side. I went down and spent last night Chez Parents, mostly because my mom likes having a house full of her children. I also got to play with my nephew a bit, and applaud his latest trick: rolling around on the floor. I'm so proud of him.
(Oh, my lord: I have indeed become one of those aunts, haven't I?)
Tonight, I got my first crank call in a few years: some guy claiming to have found my number at a strip joint. (Ha, ha. So funny.) What didn't bother me so much was his knowing my name, but more when he started reciting a familiar address — I hung up on him mid-call. I should have been smart and mocked him for being so "clever" in being able to use a phone book, but of course we never think of these things at the time. It did remind me to check the phone book to verify that the same address he mentioned is actually what's in there. And it's also making me jump at the slightest odd household sound. Hooray, paranoia, welcome back.
Time to sharpen my Krav Maga skills.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Sharks Win 4 - 3; Day "Not a Complete Wash," Says Sarah
So, date canceled on account of sick (his being sick, not mine), and the decision of what to do with the waste of my day was decided by the call of my sister looking for company that didn't live within 30 feet of her. I ended up driving down to San Jose, going out to lunch with my sister and her son (ran into my high school friend Shortie, literally as I was saying her name in discussing the last time I'd been to that restaurant), and watching the game with my dad. All-in-all, not a bad day, even if I did end up getting enlisted in the big ol' furniture moving to get ready for the painters coming in a few days.
Bonus prize for the day: getting to swipe my brother's Wii. I'm wondering just how dangerous it's going to be, with me having video games in the household. Hopefully I'll still remember to go to Krav.
Bonus prize for the day: getting to swipe my brother's Wii. I'm wondering just how dangerous it's going to be, with me having video games in the household. Hopefully I'll still remember to go to Krav.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Blinding White Legs
I'm beginning to suspect that my legs have long since lost the ability to generate melanin (which I just realized that I've been mistakenly calling "melatonin" all freaking day ... oops). You know, that stuff that makes your skin tan when you're out in the sun? Yeah.
Today was one of those exceptional, beautiful sunny days (hardly a cloud in the sky) that San Francisco has once in a while. It wasn't too hot, there was a nice breeze that wasn't too chilling, and on an invitation to go out to lunch from Leonie and her friend Norma, I decided to take advantage of the ultraviolet rays while I could. I dug into my dresser and pulled out the one skirt I had that still fit and wasn't over-fancy, threw on a tank top, and headed out. My legs seriously see the light of day maybe once or twice a year, so I was hoping today to give them a little color by sitting in the sun and just leaving them exposed.
Surely, one or two of you out there are gasping in shock: exposed to the sun? without a drop of sunblock? What about The Cancer?! To these people, I have this response: perhaps, if I were a regular sun-worshiper and actually lived in a city that got more than 14 days of great sun a year, I'd be worried, too. But the fact of the matter is, I live in San Francisco. I stay indoors most days, getting at most 30 minutes to an hour a day of daylight exposure ... and most of that fully-clothed. Most sunscreen makes me break out in a rash, and when I burn fortunately it fades right into a nice tan instead of going straight back to white. So where's the real incentive to wear sunblock? I'd far rather get a good natural dose of vitamin D, suffer with a burn for 24 hours, than remain pasty-white and/or itch for over a week. It's a real no-brainer. I can buy a fancy hypoallergenic sunblock when I start seeing the wrinkles. Or start actually going outdoors for longer periods of time.
Lunch was at Mojo Bicycle Café, up in the Western Addition. And while the concept of the place is kind of San Francisco hippie-biker-dippie, they actually make an awesome sandwich (I had "The Bird" ... and it was the first time in a long while that I've actually been blown away by a sandwich), have a nice front patio space and a gorgeous backyard space. We spent almost 3 hours lounging around, eating, drinking, chatting, before it was time to go, and my legs were stretched out to best catch the sunlight the entire time.
Unfortunately, I think they're just as white as when I started. Whereas my arms and shoulders ... slightly red over a tan that will hopefully be fabulous by tomorrow or Monday.
Stupid legs.
Tomorrow I have a "date" to watch the Sharks game at Kilowatt (haven't been there in over a year, I think). It's game two of the second round of the playoffs, and they're up against the Detroit Red Wings. Game one was a nail-biter, and I'm really excited about game two. I'm trying to not be as excited about the date, so I don't end up disappointed. This is my break back into "the scene". If it goes well, I may write about it. If it goes horribly, I'll definitely blog about it. Because I know that's the kind of adventure you guys are here for.
(And don't worry: we're doing coffee beforehand so that his first impression of me isn't all belligerence and yelling at TV screens. I'm not that naïve.)
5/2 ETA: Never mind on two accounts: My leg (note the singular) did get some color -- a big ol' strip of red down my calf. And the date's canceled on account of sick. Fun.
Today was one of those exceptional, beautiful sunny days (hardly a cloud in the sky) that San Francisco has once in a while. It wasn't too hot, there was a nice breeze that wasn't too chilling, and on an invitation to go out to lunch from Leonie and her friend Norma, I decided to take advantage of the ultraviolet rays while I could. I dug into my dresser and pulled out the one skirt I had that still fit and wasn't over-fancy, threw on a tank top, and headed out. My legs seriously see the light of day maybe once or twice a year, so I was hoping today to give them a little color by sitting in the sun and just leaving them exposed.
Surely, one or two of you out there are gasping in shock: exposed to the sun? without a drop of sunblock? What about The Cancer?! To these people, I have this response: perhaps, if I were a regular sun-worshiper and actually lived in a city that got more than 14 days of great sun a year, I'd be worried, too. But the fact of the matter is, I live in San Francisco. I stay indoors most days, getting at most 30 minutes to an hour a day of daylight exposure ... and most of that fully-clothed. Most sunscreen makes me break out in a rash, and when I burn fortunately it fades right into a nice tan instead of going straight back to white. So where's the real incentive to wear sunblock? I'd far rather get a good natural dose of vitamin D, suffer with a burn for 24 hours, than remain pasty-white and/or itch for over a week. It's a real no-brainer. I can buy a fancy hypoallergenic sunblock when I start seeing the wrinkles. Or start actually going outdoors for longer periods of time.
Lunch was at Mojo Bicycle Café, up in the Western Addition. And while the concept of the place is kind of San Francisco hippie-biker-dippie, they actually make an awesome sandwich (I had "The Bird" ... and it was the first time in a long while that I've actually been blown away by a sandwich), have a nice front patio space and a gorgeous backyard space. We spent almost 3 hours lounging around, eating, drinking, chatting, before it was time to go, and my legs were stretched out to best catch the sunlight the entire time.
Unfortunately, I think they're just as white as when I started. Whereas my arms and shoulders ... slightly red over a tan that will hopefully be fabulous by tomorrow or Monday.
Stupid legs.
Tomorrow I have a "date" to watch the Sharks game at Kilowatt (haven't been there in over a year, I think). It's game two of the second round of the playoffs, and they're up against the Detroit Red Wings. Game one was a nail-biter, and I'm really excited about game two. I'm trying to not be as excited about the date, so I don't end up disappointed. This is my break back into "the scene". If it goes well, I may write about it. If it goes horribly, I'll definitely blog about it. Because I know that's the kind of adventure you guys are here for.
(And don't worry: we're doing coffee beforehand so that his first impression of me isn't all belligerence and yelling at TV screens. I'm not that naïve.)
5/2 ETA: Never mind on two accounts: My leg (note the singular) did get some color -- a big ol' strip of red down my calf. And the date's canceled on account of sick. Fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)