Dork-o-Rama: The Random Thoughts of a Total Goofball

Embracing the Dork Side....Because Life is Too Short to Take Yourself Too Seriously

Saturday, September 30, 2006


It must have been a Saturday or Sunday, because my brother and I were at home watching cartoons. Or could it have been a weekday, and we just weren't in school?

My grandparents had been staying with us (they lived in Connecticut, we in Virginia), because it must have been clear what was coming.

They came home from the hospital first. Didn't really say anything to us, though my grandmother was visibly upset, and snapped about the volume on the TV. I seem to recall my grandfather telling her to leave us alone.

I may have only been 8, but at that point I knew. But my brother and I didn't say a word.

My mom came home sometime after that, and the rest is pretty much a blur. I do remember her taking us into another room to give us the news.

A few months earlier, maybe even more than that -- I have no sense of the time frame at all --she told me he was going to die. She didn't use those words, though. I'd said something about something happening "when daddy gets better." He'd been in and out of the hospital quite a bit, for endless cancer surgeries that now seem pointless.

She looked at me, hesitated for a moment, then said, "Daddy isn't going to get better." I honestly don't remember what, if anything, we said about it after that. But after a moment, I realized what she was telling me and there were many tears.

There still are.

I just realized the other day that he's now been gone for as many years as he lived. That's just.... wow. I don't have the right words.

This picture's been in a frame for so long I'd forgotten there was a sweet little note to my mother on the back. The pic was apparently taken during one of my dad's stints on the aircraft carrier on which he was deployed. It says, "Who IS this handsome devil?" Cute.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Just another random Friday...

I might have to make this a weekly tradition...

  • Why do avocadoes turn brown so quickly after they're cut open? What evolutionary purpose does that serve, except to make me not want to eat my guacamole the day after I've made it? It's still good. It LOOKS gross, though. (I know. Lemon juice. I use it. And lime juice. Still. There's no way to keep it green long enough!)

  • Same with bananas. Why is there just a one, maybe two-day window when I can eat them? I like them lightly spotted. Let them go one day more, and they're revolting. And don't even get me started on GREEN bananas. EEEEUWWW!

  • Should I be embarrassed to admit that I somehow ended up buying the top two albums on last week's Billboard 100 chart? No. You know what? I'm not embarrassed. I didn't buy them because I thought they'd be popular. I bought them because I like the artists. And I like these CDs, too! I'll let you research what those were yourselves.

  • Who's the brainiac at the Gap/Old Navy who thinks it's a good idea to run their commercials so much you want to kill yourself? That fucking Audrey Hepburn-AC/DC spot is KILLING ME! It was cute at first. It was. Now... GAH! "If a girl wants to dance... a girl wants to dance." SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE, HONEY. I'm afraid I'll never be able to listen to "Back in Black" ever again. Thanks, asshats.

  • What's the deal with "Deal Or No Deal?" Why is this show a hit? I accidentally caught a bit of it last week. Not only did it not make sense -- you DON'T want the large dollar figures? -- it was STOOOPID.

  • Is there anything cuter than two little girls waving at you from those backwards-facing seats in a station wagon, as you drive behind them? I think not.

  • Happiness is: putting on a jacket you haven't worn in a week or two and finding about 20 bucks scattered through the pockets. It's been a LONG time since I didn't have to account for every single dollar.

  • It's also coming home, weary and sickly on a Friday afternoon, and finding the latest Dave Matthews Band Live CD in your mailbox. You know that song that I've been obsessed with? It's on there! Which is why I got it! And it's DIFFERENT from the version they played here, and even different from the version I keep posting here. God, I love that. I love them. I had a huge grin on my face a few moments after popping in the CD, even while putting away groceries and doing other chores.

  • Tomorrow night, I'm off to Berkeley to see another favorite band of mine, Guster. Don't say you don't know who they are. You do. You've heard them. You just don't know you've heard them. They do this song, and this one...both of which got a fair amount of airplay a few years back. They're SO much better live than they are on CD. And not only are they talented, they're fucking hilarious. Love them!

Happy Friday!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Most disturbing...

Pretty, isn't it? I gotta say, I never get tired of looking at it. And if you've ever visited my lovely city, you've looked at it too. Maybe even walked across it.

Did you know that more people commit suicide here than at any other single location in the world?

I learned that depressing fact during the screening of a documentary, "The Bridge," that's about to get a wider theatrical release next month.

This is far from a popcorn movie. The filmmaker set up his cameras to shoot the bridge for an entire year, and caught on film a number of suicides. So you sit on edge, in the dark, waiting for the first one... because you know it's going to be disturbing. And oh my GOD, it is. And it doesn't get any easier to watch the rest of the jumps. (I can't remember how many are shown; maybe six?)

But the heart of the film is interviews with the loved ones of those who jumped in 2004, and some of the people who witnessed some of the suicides. Oh, there's also a guy who stopped a woman from jumping.

It's heartbreaking. And again makes the case for a suicide barrier on the span.

It's an issue that's been debated here for years, and I was one of those who believed the opponents' argument -- that people who are hell-bent on taking their own lives will find some way to do it. If not on the Golden Gate, then somewhere else. So why spend a lot of money and alter the look of the bridge?

The San Francisco Chronicle published a great series last year or the year before on the issue, and talked to some of those who've jumped AND SURVIVED (!) (one of whom I've met). None of them ever made another suicide attempt. All of them talked about how easy it was to just pull themselves over the railing and go. The guy I met (who appears in this documentary) says as soon as he jumped, he regretted it. So he spent the rest of his 220-fall into the icy water below trying to position his body so that he might live.

That alone changed my mind. And the people who run the bridge are now moving forward -- albeit slowly, in that tedious bureaucratic fashion -- with the process to put some kind of barrier up.

What is my point? I guess I don't have one. Except that it's been almost a week since I saw this film and I can't get those images out of my mind.

(Which is why we -- a co-worker and I -- had to go have a drink afterwards. HAD to. I should have expensed that....)

Monday, September 25, 2006

No reason not to like this Monday...

Had a lovely lunch with Shroom, at the Taint... though I neglected to ask him to do his expert Arnie impersonation for me... DAMN.

Had a lovely dinner with Rebecca, at Mystery Bistro... a place we've noticed on our way to hula class each week. It's always got a line out the door, and now we know why. YUM. SO good. And now we also know its name, but I'm still going to call it Mystery Bistro. Bonus: some of the people who work there even speak French! Mais oui!

Note to self: never, ever, EVER, miss another hula class, unless you're at death's doorstep. We both missed last week, and holy shit, it's getting really hard to catch up. Physically AND mentally. My head was spinning and my calves were aching by the end.

And now, it's time for a Monday meme. Stolen from Jon, who stole it from... oh, hell, I don't remember. A bunch of people.

1. What's your opinion on sex without emotional commitment?
I can't imagine having sex with someone I didn't care about, but I'm weird that way.

2. Do you bite your toenails?
Eeeuw, no! I'm not that weird!

3. Are you a jealous person?
Not really.

4. What are you allergic to?
Gluten, penicillin, benzoyl peroxide, and other mysterious things that bug my sinuses.

5. What books, if any, have made you cry?
Oh god. Many. "Little Women." "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius." Gilda Radner's autobiography. "Bunny Bunny," by Alan Zweibel, which was about his friendship with Gilda. Many more I can't think of right now.

6. Does it get annoying when somebody says they'll call you, but doesn't?
It annoys me when people fail to follow through on a promise, but an occasional missed call is not a big deal.

7. What is your favorite ice cream flavor?
It's not technically ice cream, but I'm currently in love with this coconut gelato I found at Rainbow Grocery.

8. If someone you had no interest in dating expressed interest what would you say to them?
Well, often, I've taken the chickenshit route and pretended I was dating someone else.

9. What would you rather be doing right now?
Sitting on a beach in a tropical locale with a yummy cocktail and a good book. Or good company.

10. What song lyrics, if any, are stuck in your head at the moment, if any?
"Can't Stop," Dave Matthews Band. (I can't stop listening to it! Ha ha. No, really. Nor can I stop linking it. It's more for me than it is for you.)

12. What did you dress up as for your first Halloween?
I don't know if it was my first, but I do recall an early Raggedy Ann costume.

13. What's your favorite TV show, now or in the past?
This is a toughie. I guess I'd have to say "Seinfeld." I don't think I quote as regularly from any other show I've ever watched.

14. Do you get along better with the same or opposite sex?
Same, usually. I'm always puzzled by women who say they can't stand other women. WTF? Then again, I've been fortunate to have many fabulous women in my life.

15. Can others make you cry easily?
Depends. Are we talking about art that touches and moves me? Or people being mean? Mean people just piss me off.

16. Who was the last person to piss you off?
Someone mean! Oh. Um... probably someone in a position of authority at my former job.

17. Are you picky about spelling and grammar?
Oh. My. GOD. YES! Have you met me??

18. Do you pay attention to calories on the back of packages?
Sure. Do I do anything about them? Not really. I'm usually paying more attention to the ingredients, to find the gluten. It's like a twisted game of Where's Waldo.

19. If you could be any type of fruit what would you be?
A pineapple. Prickly on the outside, sweet on the inside.

20. Were you a "planned" child?
I have no idea. I'm sure my parents had planned to have more than one (I was their second), as it was expected of their generation. But the specific timing of my arrival? I have no idea whether that was intentional.

21. How many pairs of shoes do you own?
Uh.... I'm no Imelda Marcos, but I do have my share of shoes. How many do I regularly wear? That's a different question... and as my collection grows, that number's rising...

23. How many hours of sleep do you need to function?
I'm okay with 6ish, but try to get at least 7 whenever possible.

24. What is your favorite alcoholic drink?
Depends on the day. My mood. The weather. The location. I'm fond of vodka-based cocktails. Ditto tequila.

25. When was the last time you saw a rainbow?
I can't recall.

26. Have you ever been attracted to someone physically unattractive?
If I was attracted to them, then they weren't unattractive, now were they? At least, not to me. So how can I possibly answer this stupid question?

28. Would you ever date someone covered in tattoos?
Define "covered." It's not something I look for, but ultimately, it doesn't matter.

29. Do you believe that the guy should pay on the first date?
It's not a requirement, but it's really nice.

30. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos?
Yes, a tattoo. But I can't figure out what design I want, or where I'd want it...

31. Which do you make: wishes or plans?

32. Can you speak any languages other than English?
Je parle un petit peu de Francais. And a teeny bit of Spanish. And now, an even teenier bit of Hawaiian.

33. What is your favorite salad dressing?
Balsamic vinaigrette or a tangy Caesar.

34. Have you ever fooled around with someone and not remembered?

35. Have you ever dated one of your best friends?
No. Well... uh... no. Okay, my ex-husband was a close friend before we were a couple but I was always interested in more than friendship where he was concerned. And since him... uh... well... uh... no.

36. Has anyone told you a secret this week?
Yes. I'm privy to all sorts of confidential information in my new job. And no, I can't share any of it with you.

37. When was the last time someone hit on you?
Friday evening, in line at Trader Joe's. Another dude who appeared to be in his 60s. I'm still baffled about my popularity among the senior set.

38. Did you notice there was no #11?
Not until it was pointed out. And then Jon pointed out that 22 and 27 are also missing.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps...

And it looks like I will, at Christmas!

Mom and I are planning a trip to NYC for Christmas this year.

The idea was planted last Christmas, when Mom was here, and we were watching New York getting snowed in on TV. We looked at each other, and she asked, "Why aren't we there?"

So this year, we will be! I won't get to take my usual week off between Christmas and New Year's, as I am the junior manager, but I can take the week before...

Can I place my order for snow now?

We haven't been to New York together since the early 80's, when we were visiting relatives in Connecticut one Christmas and took the bus into the city for a day. We were scared little suburban rabbits then, and the big city was awfully intimidating. And unfortunately, we wasted most of our day on a bus tour. It was still fun.

About five or six years later, on another trip to visit family, my now-ex-husband and I spent a whirlwind day in the city, during which we stole a cue card from David Letterman's set. We thought that was so special...

Last year, I finally got to spend more than a day there when my friend Cindy invited me to join her and her daughter and nieces for a big trip to the big city. God, that was a blast...and I came home thinking I should move there. It just felt like home, but bigger and better. And all new to me at the same time. And since it's the center of the media universe, I figured there HAD to be a job there for me.

So I started doing some research and deep thinking about it. There was no reason I couldn't move....but could I handle starting a new life in a new place where I don't know anyone? I have a great support system here. Could I leave that? Even for a city as amazing as New York?

And then, one day, as I was driving home along the Marina, and looked at the sun preparing to set behind the Golden Gate Bridge, I burst into tears when I thought about leaving.

Guess I'm not actually ready for that. Yet. Maybe I'll never be.

But I can visit.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Extreme randomosity!

  • This (the beverage pictured) is some really good shit. And it's the only reasonably-priced wine made by Francis Ford Coppola's winery.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm now allergic to one of my favorite flowers... the stargazer lily. I've had a beautiful bunch in the apartment for about a week now, and I've felt like I've been fighting off some cold-like thing all week. I just made the possible connection tonight. Fer crying out loud...isn't it enough that I can't have normal food ? I can't have my favorite flowers around now??

YouTube is the greatest thing ever. I heart it.

I knew today was going to be a weird day after I flushed one of my favorite necklaces down the toilet while getting ready for work. I mean, who DOES that? Fuuuuuck. I just stood there, looking into the bowl, as though the necklace might somehow reappear.

I hate Macy's. Let me clarify: I hate clothes shopping at Macy's. I went to the Union Square store last weekend, and not only was it about 1000 degrees in the store, it smelled like someone had urinated in the dressing rooms. And that's not the first time I've noticed that the dressing rooms in a Macy's have reeked. I tried on about 20 items, most of which didn't even come close to fitting... and all of which were overpriced, even during their sale. Phooey.

How is it possible to be so busy, yet have little to say when people ask what you've been up to?

Nat's written a couple of really interesting posts about signs recently, and I think I got one of my own this week. When I was doing laundry, there were no dryers available when the wash cycle was finished. Not even a single one that I could cram all my stuff into. And I wasn't about to let my wet stuff rot in those washing machines for 35 minutes or more until someone else's drying cycle was complete. So I threw it all into my cart and hauled it to another laundromat a few long blocks away. And this laundromat's cheaper -- yay -- but half the machines are often broken... and not labeled as such, so you often end up throwing a bunch of money away. And even the dryers that work there take fucking forever. So I think I have my answer about whether I should farm out some of my laundry...

I have the greatest commute ever. As in most cities, there are about 15 different routes I can take to get to or from work, and they pretty much take about the same amount of time. So most days, I take the most scenic route, which takes me along the Marina on my way to work, and through the Presidio on my way home. That must be the prettiest military base ever built, and it's now a national park. It's so nice after a long day at work to look at the bay, the Golden Gate Bridge, the historic buildings in the Presidio, and all the trees along the way.

And it sure as hell beats public transit.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006


I was just able to comment on a bunch of non-Beta blogs under my regular profile.

Think they've actually worked out all the bugs ?

Monday, September 18, 2006

Happy happy joy joy...

I don't know if it's some good karma, or what... but two recent developments are making me smile today.

See that flyer over there? It's for a big benefit concert Neil Young organizes every year.

See the second band on the list? Yeah. Well. It's hard for me to pass up an opportunity to see them, even when I've just seen them. ESPECIALLY when I've just seen them. I'm in that post DMB-concert fog, in which I do nothing but listen to their music* and savor how much I love it.

Yes, I am aware that I am a dork.

Anyway. It can be hard to get tickets for this event. I mean, look at that list of performers.

It can be hard... unless you know someone at your new job who has connections. Who can get you tickets from the promoter before they go on sale to the general public.

Oh yes, that's me!

And? I managed to score some front-row seats for the Barenaked Ladies show here in November.

Oh yes, that's me!

Oh, and I also have good seats for Guster later this month, but I've had those for awhile.

Can you see the smile on my face?

*This is my new favorite song. Omigod. OH. MY. GOD. You must let it get to at least the 2 1/2 minute mark, because that's where they totally had me. And keep in mind he's losing his voice, but that first "I surrender" kills me anyway. KEEEELS me.

*Another thing that sucks about Blogger Beta: you can't space copy out the way you want to. Fucking Beta...

Sunday, September 17, 2006

I watch too much TV...

I still can't believe Mike Boogie won.
I can't believe there's someone in the world who goes by the name of Mike Boogie.
I can't believe I got sucked into another season of "Big Brother."

Lukas? Really?? The guy can't sing!

I want Tim Gunn to be my mentor.
Why does Heidi always sound so freakish when she says "Nina Garcia?"

I think it would be a nice change of pace to put Jeff Probst on Exile Island for a couple of days.

Did you know "ER" is still on the air?
Why is it still on the air? Is anyone watching?

Yay, "The Amazing Race" is back tonight!

I'd like to start a write-in campaign to get Comedy Central to revert to its old schedule of airing the previous night's "Daily Show" and "Colbert Report" at 7 p.m., instead of 8 p.m. Who's with me??

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Extravagance... or intelligence?

  • You already know how much I hate housework. Especially laundry.

  • I'm starting to think it's time for professional help.

  • No, not therapy...though who couldn't use some of that?

  • I mean professional cleaning help.

  • A couple of weeks ago at work, I was lamenting my laundry situation to another manager, when she asked why I didn't just send my laundry out. You work long hours, she said to me, you're getting paid a decent salary now, and you deserve not to have to spend your evenings dealing with stupid-ass chores if you don't have to.

It's a fair question, and others have asked it. But as I told her, I have lots of overpriced yet cheaply-made clothing items that might just shrink, disintegrate, or worse, go up in flames if handled improperly, so I'm reluctant to let anyone else do my laundry. How is it possible to tell someone who's handling all sorts of people's dirty clothing about each and every item that can't go in the dryer? Or those that can go in for just a few minutes? Yes, some of my laundry is high maintenance.

She suggested I only send out the stuff that's easy, like sheets and towels and workout wear, etc... and deal with the fussy stuff myself. And that I would probably only have to do that every week-and-a-half to two weeks or so.

I kinda pooh-pooed that until last night, when I was again hauling what felt like a boatload of laundry up and down the street after another long day at work.

I think she's right. And if I keep expanding my wardrobe the way I have been lately (ahem), I really will only have to do laundry every 10 to 14 days and I'll still have plenty of clothing options each day.

Oh. My. God. What a concept!

Also, since starting my new job, cleaning house has become a very low priority...even though I really hate it when my bathroom gets dirty. But it's always seemed silly for me to hire someone to clean my apartment, since there's just one person here (and several pounds of dust bunnies) making the mess. It's seemed like an extravagance.

I'm starting to rethink that, too. Maybe it's not a bad idea to have someone else clean it a couple of times a month, and I can do the maintenance in between. Or not.


Tuesday, September 12, 2006

...oh, our minds will wander to wondrous places...

I get it now.

Last night, after we got our asses kicked (again) in hula class, my friend Rebecca pointed out that it's simply impossible to take our troubles with us into that class. It's impossible to think about anything else, because it requires so much focus to get our bodies to do what we want them to do for as long as we want them to.

We are, for that hour and half, completely in the moment. Which is one of the reasons I love this class so much.

And one of the reasons why I get so carried away by the music that I love, or really great theatre, or a truly amazing performance of any kind. And now that I think of it, why I love roller coasters so much.

So often, my mind is racing in a million directions at once. I guess that makes it easier to multi-task, when necessary...and it's definitely necessary in my chosen profession. But I sometimes feel like I'm missing out on parts of my life, you know?

It's truly a gift when I am stopped in my tracks and entirely lost in a moment. I wonder how to get there more often.

Or should I?

Monday, September 11, 2006

Because everything one could possibly say about this day has already been said...

...and far more eloquently than anything I would say, I will only say this:

Isn't it time for Anthony Bourdain's new season yet?? I'm getting tired of these reruns, as delightful as they are...

Sunday, September 10, 2006

One Sweet World...*

When I was a young concert-goer, I used to envy the people who had great seats. I'd watch them walk down, down, down to the area in front of the stage, and wonder if I'd ever be so lucky.

And in recent years, I HAVE been lucky that way...with really great seats to some concerts. In the first six rows, for several Barenaked Ladies shows, for instance. And I've seen a certain Latin pop singer's bon-bon up close.

But I could never manage to get really good seats for Dave Matthews Band concerts. It's a challenge to get reserved seats at all, and not get stuck on the fucking hideous lawn at the venue where they play most often. Once, when I was flush with cash, I went to a scalper...uh... I mean... ticket broker.... and got 20th row seats, which were cool... but they were off to the side of the stage. Another time, at a different venue, I somehow ended up with 15th row seats, and I was really happy with those. But usually, I'm just glad to have seats at all (not that you can sit during their shows). They have a huge following here, so just getting to see their shows at all is a treat.

Last night, I thoroughly enjoyed that long walk down to our 9th row center seats. I stopped at one point, turned around and looked at my friend Sherri, and she was already wide-eyed, well before we got to our row. And the show was amazing. AWE. SOME. Well, both shows were, but it's a totally different experience when you're up close and personal the way we were.

And we lucked out both nights, in that we had really friendly, easygoing people around us. I tell ya, it's crapshoot at these shows. At some, we've been surrounded by drunken boors. Once, there was a thoroughly inebriated couple behind us that made out so furiously during the concert, we thought they were going to have sex on the spot.

On Friday, though, we had the extra entertainment of two guys hitting on us right after we sat down. They were seated in front of us, and as we got settled into our area, they gave us both the once over, and then started chatting us up in the most hilariously obvious manner possible. One even asked me -- and I'm not kidding -- to wrap myself around him, if he got cold.

Yeah. Okay, he was cute and all... but still.

I seem to have missed my cue, when he leaned back for warmth, as I was too busy, you know, WATCHING THE BAND I PAID GOOD MONEY TO SEE.

Don't feel bad for him, though... He found female companionship a short time later, a few seats away, and we never saw them again.

All in all, a great weekend. And I didn't want last night to end.

*no, they didn't play this song - which is one of my faves -- this weekend, but i forgive them.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

It's time!

  • I can't help it. Just looking at that picture makes me smile.

  • It's time for my annual weekend of paying homage to my favorite band.

  • I know. They are disliked by many, but I don't give a shit about the haters. These boys bring me much happiness, and even helped me through a really rough period of my life.

And their concerts are glorious, even though they're totally sold out and packed to the gills (you know how I hate crowds) and I'm surrounded by many drunken former frat brothers who aren't really listening to the music, but are socializing loudly and drinking more and calling friends on their cell phones...

I mean, when Dave gets his eyebrows going, it's hard not to swoon. Or when he starts his trademark spastic dance.

The best part? We're in the ninth row for the Saturday night show. That means there will be even more swooning on my part than usual. Swooning at close range.


Phone update: Today, I got a wrong number caller who was up and making calls at 3:12 a.m.! And of course, they hung up as soon as I picked up. Nice. I was in a panic for a moment, thinking something was terribly wrong at work. I suppose I should be grateful there WAS nothing wrong.
And my dear non-friend who called and woke me last week? Has called several times since, though never when I've been home. Wouldn't you think that after hearing my answering machine message several times, he or she would GET A FUCKING CLUE???

I may have to re-work this whole phone in the bedroom thing...

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Oh, fer crying out loud...

I've been seduced.

I fell for Blogger's "Try the Beta version! It's so much better! It will make your life better in every way, even in areas that have nothing to do with blogs!" pitch.

Now, I can't comment on blogs that haven't switched to the Beta version.

And I can't switch back!

Aaaagh!! I've been silenced!

I know this is trying for you, too... since I know you wait with bated breath for my brilliantly insightful and/or hilarious comments...

*Sigh. Why can't I just leave well enough alone?

Monday, September 04, 2006

Is it me...?

The Bay Area is virtually overflowing with street fairs and festivals. Seems like there's at least one -- if not more -- every weekend, especially in the spring and summer. And I've sampled most of the major ones. Seems like a fun way to spend an afternoon, right?

I hate them. Each and every one I've been to. I believe I'm lacking the street fair appreciation gene. Or am I just a Debbie Downer?

For one thing, they're too crowded. Once, after going to great lengths to get to one, the ex and I left after walking the length of it. It was so crowded, we had to walk (or really, shove our way through) single file. What's fun about that?

For years, after moving here, I was dying to go the Gilroy Garlic Festival. I'm a garlic freak, so it seemed like a perfect fit. The year I finally went, we took the train, because we didn't want to deal with traffic, and it seemed like a fun way to go.

Uh, no. We were so bored -- my mom, the ex and I -- that we wanted to bail after about two hours, but we were trapped. There would be no train home for a few more hours. We ended up in some local dive bar, killing time until we could escape.

They're also overpriced. The artwork and jewelry that's for sale is out of my price range. The food is not worth the price. And the drinks are outrageously expensive.

Then there are the porta potties. 'Nuff said.

Yesterday, I spent a few hours at one, working the booth set up by my new employer. They're one of the sponsors of this particular event, and I agreed to show my team spirit by spending some time there. And I figured that after my designated booth time, I'd take a stroll through the festival grounds. I would already be there, I'd have priority parking... so why not?

I bailed immediately after my time was through. My earlier trips through the crowd to get to the booth and to the porta potties was enough. And the priority parking lot was full, so I ended up parking farther away than I'd expected.

I just need to accept that I'm not the art festival/street fair type, no matter how hard I try.

Now, the Del Mar Fair? That's another story altogether...

Friday, September 01, 2006

What a tease...

Mother Nature, that is.

I was all ready to write a regularly-scheduled rant about the never-ending fog when we had an absolutely spectacular day on Wednesday. I even dashed out to go for a long walk after work that night, because it was so nice out. And it's so much more pleasant to walk in nice weather than in thick, wet fog and blustery winds.

But that glorious weather only lasted a day.

I know. Unless you're familiar with the Bay Area's weather patterns, you're saying to yourself, "What the fuck is she talking about? It's still summer!"

Yeah. It is. But summer in San Francisco means heavy fog in many areas, including the 'hood in which I live. This is why tourists who visit my fine city in the summer months end up going home with shitty souvenir sweatshirts -- they have no idea what they're getting into, and only pack light summer clothing, because they assume they're visiting warm, sunny California.

It's why I can drink a lovely Kenwood Cabernet on this summer night without passing out from heat exhaustion.

Many don't know how chilly our corner of the world can be during the summer, despite the alleged Mark Twain quote. ("The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.") And right now, it's fricking freezing, Mr. Bigglesworth.

I shouldn't complain. We've actually had a pretty nice summer, with many sunny days...most notably during that little surprise vacation I had. And I've said it a million times -- I'll take cool weather over hot any day. But August was pretty gloomy in my neck of the woods, and the gray is getting old.

The good news is September and October are usually our nicest months. That's when summer truly comes to the cool gray city of love.

Bring it on! I'm ready!