March is supposed to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. Not true in San Francisco, apparently. Well, I guess it did rain on the 1st. Just a little. Hardly even worth mentioning. Today was in the high 60s or low 70s, and the natives were out in tank tops, shorts, skirts. I left Krav wishing I'd brought a skirt to change into for my walk through the city, wishing that I didn't have to lug my suddenly-unnecessary leather jacket around town.
Meanwhile, of course, there are tornadoes ravaging the Midwest. I know SF will get its comeuppance soon enough, the depression that comes with a sunless summer, but for now here is paradise. Tomorrow is expected to be much the same. I'm looking forward to soaking up as much of it as possible.
Right now, I had fully intended to be at the Red Devil Lounge to see some live music, have a drink, maybe even be social with some strangers. But then I got home from my walk around the city to find that season six of Doctor Who had been added to Netflix. And I looked at the new sweater I had started to cast on for, and thought about the money I could save by staying in and drinking some of the wine I already have, and then I realized that the washing machine was actually free and I had laundry to do ... and so here I am, in a pair of pajama pants, one load in the wash and one in the dryer, eating leftovers for dinner. Hooray my exciting weekend.
But that's okay, I have more to look forward to: Emily called this afternoon to discuss our impending trip to Disneyland, and pointed out that it is taking place in a week. Seven days. I had hardly realized it — I can scare believe that March has already begun, seriously, much less that it actually involves my going someplace further away than San Jose — and now the excitement is bubbling up.
Showing posts with label Sarah is a winner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sarah is a winner. Show all posts
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Turtle Neck Seasoning
I am not intending to knock the amazing friends I have locally, but: why do I have so many fabulous friends who live so far away?
Some of them were in town this weekend, and there was the usual drunkenness and goofing around that happens when I see these guys. I got a group of gay men singing along to "Day Man", ate some good food, had some good conversations, drank too much Goldschlager ... and really, you know it's a good weekend when it involves glow-in-the-dark bubble bath. Trippy. I already miss them all,
I've bought my tickets to visit some more of my fabulous out-of-town friends, the ones out in NYC. I'll be messaging them soon — the ones I haven't yet poked — to let them know of the impendingdoom err, visit and timing.
In the meantime, my amazing local friends seem to be intent on keeping me busy the next few weekends. Add that to a short story contest I'm participating in, the upcoming NYC trip (which will also include a few days in Cleveland, Ohio) and a couple potential dates in the next seven days (in and of itself is a kind of scary thing), and, well ... this year's kind of shaping up to be an interesting one. Hopefully one with good blogs. Fingers crossed.
At the very least, I haven't cried over my morning ironing in over a week. That's definitely gotta be something.
Some of them were in town this weekend, and there was the usual drunkenness and goofing around that happens when I see these guys. I got a group of gay men singing along to "Day Man", ate some good food, had some good conversations, drank too much Goldschlager ... and really, you know it's a good weekend when it involves glow-in-the-dark bubble bath. Trippy. I already miss them all,
I've bought my tickets to visit some more of my fabulous out-of-town friends, the ones out in NYC. I'll be messaging them soon — the ones I haven't yet poked — to let them know of the impending
In the meantime, my amazing local friends seem to be intent on keeping me busy the next few weekends. Add that to a short story contest I'm participating in, the upcoming NYC trip (which will also include a few days in Cleveland, Ohio) and a couple potential dates in the next seven days (in and of itself is a kind of scary thing), and, well ... this year's kind of shaping up to be an interesting one. Hopefully one with good blogs. Fingers crossed.
At the very least, I haven't cried over my morning ironing in over a week. That's definitely gotta be something.
Monday, September 6, 2010
For the Un-Win
From time to time, I have my suspicions that there is some higher being, watching us all and making his/her presence felt.
Today, I am sure of the existence of that higher being. And I am also sure that said higher being really doesn't want me to go on my road trip.
First, it was my poor, beloved car, slowly dying and forcing me to admit that she was no longer road trip-worthy. Fortunately, my family was able to provide me with another car — my brother's — which was expected at any time to have a new stereo installed (it came without, being the cheapest thing on the lot when it was purchased). One attempt to ruin my trip thwarted.
Then, my entire family came down with the stomach flu, right in time for the weekend that my brother was supposed to get a stereo held for him by a friend installed for free. Again, that obstacle was overcome (and again with parental assistance) by the simple expedient of my going down to San Jose and getting the damn thing bought and installed myself. (Lesson learned: if you want/need anything to be ready by a certain time, never trust anyone else to get around to it. Hercules helps those who help themselves.)
But finally, tonight, as everything was falling into place — offerings of beer purchased, laundry in the process of being done, bags being packed — that higher being made one more try to keep me here in San Francisco. The metal leg of my desk chair may have won the battle between itself and my right fourth toe, really. That toe may well be broken (it hurts enough for that). But by the Belt of Orion, I am not going to cancel this trip because of a small digit of pain. I don't care if I end up limping around the entire Pacific Northwest; I'm leaving in the morning, and that's that.
So, higher being, here is a big old middle finger salute to you. You will not ruin my vacation. You will not, you will not, you will not.
Today, I am sure of the existence of that higher being. And I am also sure that said higher being really doesn't want me to go on my road trip.
First, it was my poor, beloved car, slowly dying and forcing me to admit that she was no longer road trip-worthy. Fortunately, my family was able to provide me with another car — my brother's — which was expected at any time to have a new stereo installed (it came without, being the cheapest thing on the lot when it was purchased). One attempt to ruin my trip thwarted.
Then, my entire family came down with the stomach flu, right in time for the weekend that my brother was supposed to get a stereo held for him by a friend installed for free. Again, that obstacle was overcome (and again with parental assistance) by the simple expedient of my going down to San Jose and getting the damn thing bought and installed myself. (Lesson learned: if you want/need anything to be ready by a certain time, never trust anyone else to get around to it. Hercules helps those who help themselves.)
But finally, tonight, as everything was falling into place — offerings of beer purchased, laundry in the process of being done, bags being packed — that higher being made one more try to keep me here in San Francisco. The metal leg of my desk chair may have won the battle between itself and my right fourth toe, really. That toe may well be broken (it hurts enough for that). But by the Belt of Orion, I am not going to cancel this trip because of a small digit of pain. I don't care if I end up limping around the entire Pacific Northwest; I'm leaving in the morning, and that's that.
So, higher being, here is a big old middle finger salute to you. You will not ruin my vacation. You will not, you will not, you will not.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Things Brighten
It's been a while since the last update.
The sun came out last week, burning away the fog for whole hours during the day and bringing Vitamin D back to the bodies of San Francisco's denizens. The window near my desk at work faces west, so every day I watched with joy as blue slowly appeared in the morning until it dominated the sky, and then with depression as the fog came back, long fingers shooting between the tall buildings of downtown covering the city once again in its gray shadow. It was a windy week, too.
Today, however, I woke up (granted, at 11 a.m.) to a cloudless blue sky, and plans to spend some time at Sunday Streets, which was going to be out along the Great Highway. Since I don't own a bike (and neither of us decided to rent one), I guess I didn't enjoy the experience to its fullest, but it was nice to walk along hand-in-hand and soak in the sunlight. The weather also afforded a rare spectacular fog-free view of Market Street and downtown from an apartment on Twin Peaks ... which, unfortunately, I neglected to photograph.
I did manage to photograph some of yesterday's shenanigans, which added up into a frickin' awesome day, all said and told. Despite the fact that it was oppressively dark for most of the morning, with a gradual burnoff into the evening. It started with brunch with Claire and her friends at Dottie's True Blue Café:
Unfortunately, I didn't get any food shots until we were pretty much finished. I'm a bad food blogger. But the food was delicious, and just barely worth the 1 hour wait:
Next I joined the Ceramics Crew for some goofing around at Leonie's place and exploring the Indie Mart. I bought a couple jars of buttons, and a gift for my nephew's birthday.
My baby brother happened to be in the city, and joined us for a while.
Finally, I headed off to a coffee date, which turned into a movie date to see Inception at the Marina Theater. What a head trip ... it's probably a movie I should see more than once. A little predictable for the end, and while it's not getting me to question my own reality, it does provide some interesting food for mulling over, as far as the film's story goes. Hmm. I kind of also like the side focus, that future actions can be and are controlled by ideas seeded in the depths of experience.
The sun came out last week, burning away the fog for whole hours during the day and bringing Vitamin D back to the bodies of San Francisco's denizens. The window near my desk at work faces west, so every day I watched with joy as blue slowly appeared in the morning until it dominated the sky, and then with depression as the fog came back, long fingers shooting between the tall buildings of downtown covering the city once again in its gray shadow. It was a windy week, too.
Today, however, I woke up (granted, at 11 a.m.) to a cloudless blue sky, and plans to spend some time at Sunday Streets, which was going to be out along the Great Highway. Since I don't own a bike (and neither of us decided to rent one), I guess I didn't enjoy the experience to its fullest, but it was nice to walk along hand-in-hand and soak in the sunlight. The weather also afforded a rare spectacular fog-free view of Market Street and downtown from an apartment on Twin Peaks ... which, unfortunately, I neglected to photograph.
I did manage to photograph some of yesterday's shenanigans, which added up into a frickin' awesome day, all said and told. Despite the fact that it was oppressively dark for most of the morning, with a gradual burnoff into the evening. It started with brunch with Claire and her friends at Dottie's True Blue Café:
Unfortunately, I didn't get any food shots until we were pretty much finished. I'm a bad food blogger. But the food was delicious, and just barely worth the 1 hour wait:
Next I joined the Ceramics Crew for some goofing around at Leonie's place and exploring the Indie Mart. I bought a couple jars of buttons, and a gift for my nephew's birthday.
Grr.
The End is Nigh. Next year.
Josh is wiggin'.
Chuck is sexy.
My baby brother happened to be in the city, and joined us for a while.
Daniel is excited to be in front of the Full House house.
Finally, I headed off to a coffee date, which turned into a movie date to see Inception at the Marina Theater. What a head trip ... it's probably a movie I should see more than once. A little predictable for the end, and while it's not getting me to question my own reality, it does provide some interesting food for mulling over, as far as the film's story goes. Hmm. I kind of also like the side focus, that future actions can be and are controlled by ideas seeded in the depths of experience.
Monday, May 31, 2010
By the Way: I Have Boobs
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.
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.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Raffled
Apparently, the time to get noticed on JDate is after 1 a.m. on a Friday night. I was home, avoiding laundry, decided to just pop on there for a bit, see what happens, and WHAM, my pick of messages. Why this had to start up with only just over a week left on my subscription, I have no idea. Maybe it's JDate's way of getting me to pay for a second month. I dunno.
Also, why I was only getting messages from L.A.-area Jews, I dunno. But hey, my ego is not going to complain one bit.
Back in the day, when I was in my late teens and early 20s, I was mad skilled at the intarweb flirting. It was interesting to watch all those old rusty talents creakingly try to rise to the occasion. Kind of frightening, too. Apparently I held my own well enough; is that something I can be proud of?
But before this startling realization of my late-night attractions (maybe I should have stayed on the Graveyard Shift), and even now, I've been antsy to shake this loser-feeling that's been hanging over my head for a lot of this year. The trip to New York in February kind of pushed this feeling to the forefront, and I can't seem to find a way to shove it back into the recesses of my mind. It's become an obsession, even though I know better. It's partially what you might think, but I have a feeling this has got its roots in almost a decade of missed opportunities, settling, bad choices, envy, laziness, missing the mark on my own expectations ... and probably also has something to do with being 30 and not being at the place I thought I'd be at when I hit that milestone.
The current cure being attempted: contest entering. It started with the cheap ones: the state Lottery, free leave-a-comment-win-a-book offers on my favorite blogs, the orchid giveaways that my office building has on a regular basis (when they switch out the plants). And it's culminated in the big kahuna: The San Francisco Dream House raffle.
I know, I know, it's a lot of money to put down for a small chance of getting return. But I figure, it's going to a good cause, the chances of winning are better than the lottery, and damn, wouldn't it be nice if I won? Even just one of the smaller prizes. (Though fuck it, I want the house.) So I took the money the gubmint returned to me (just got my refund), and threw some of it at this dream. Maybe it'll buoy me up for a few months. A girl's gotta have hope that she will win. Sometime. Eventually.
Also, why I was only getting messages from L.A.-area Jews, I dunno. But hey, my ego is not going to complain one bit.
Back in the day, when I was in my late teens and early 20s, I was mad skilled at the intarweb flirting. It was interesting to watch all those old rusty talents creakingly try to rise to the occasion. Kind of frightening, too. Apparently I held my own well enough; is that something I can be proud of?
But before this startling realization of my late-night attractions (maybe I should have stayed on the Graveyard Shift), and even now, I've been antsy to shake this loser-feeling that's been hanging over my head for a lot of this year. The trip to New York in February kind of pushed this feeling to the forefront, and I can't seem to find a way to shove it back into the recesses of my mind. It's become an obsession, even though I know better. It's partially what you might think, but I have a feeling this has got its roots in almost a decade of missed opportunities, settling, bad choices, envy, laziness, missing the mark on my own expectations ... and probably also has something to do with being 30 and not being at the place I thought I'd be at when I hit that milestone.
The current cure being attempted: contest entering. It started with the cheap ones: the state Lottery, free leave-a-comment-win-a-book offers on my favorite blogs, the orchid giveaways that my office building has on a regular basis (when they switch out the plants). And it's culminated in the big kahuna: The San Francisco Dream House raffle.
I know, I know, it's a lot of money to put down for a small chance of getting return. But I figure, it's going to a good cause, the chances of winning are better than the lottery, and damn, wouldn't it be nice if I won? Even just one of the smaller prizes. (Though fuck it, I want the house.) So I took the money the gubmint returned to me (just got my refund), and threw some of it at this dream. Maybe it'll buoy me up for a few months. A girl's gotta have hope that she will win. Sometime. Eventually.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)