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Showing posts from November, 2006

One Tree Hill of Dookie

It is probably not fair to snarkily critique a WB show geared toward preteens and it is also probably embarrassing to admit that I even had the channel turned to such a show. However, the other choices included: Some stupid and very aggressive game show led by Captain Kirk, a reality show about fat people, and Jericho which requires that you have been watching it since the season premiere, which I have not. So, while playing Solitaire on the computer, I did have One Tree Hill on in the background. And actually, I faced the same conundrum last week and had it on then too, so I kind of knew what was going on, not like you would need too much background to understand it. Suffice it to say it’s a show about chiseled high school basketball players and their pretty cheerleader girlfriends, all of whom speak and act as though they are thirty-five years old. Well, apparently, the star player, a black haired hunk we’ll call Tyler (or Ty or Ty-Bo), owes money to some older bad guys who want it

Our Houses, Ourselves

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We spent the holiday sanding the living and dining room floor. And when I say "we" i really mean "Shawn." I helped move the furniture and pounded the nails into the wood to avoid sparking a fire with the sander, and I helped sweep and sanded for about 15 minutes, but the rest of the time, I sat outside smoking cigarettes and solving Suduko puzzles until it was time to help him move something else. It's back breaking work, especially when you do the edging because you have to crouch over the whole time. Shawn did very well. He wore a mask and kept pretending he was an astronaut by breathing heavily through it (or he might have been pretending to be Darth Vader, I'm not sure). Above is the living room before--not our decor, but the decor of the previous tenants. Below are the floors, half not sanded, and half sanded but with no polyurethane And here is our beautiful new room! And here I am, not working.

Eat Your Turkey and Shut Up

We are not going to any family outings this week or weekend in celebration of the pilgrims eating a meal with the Indians after invading their continent closely followed by the subsequent slaughter of thousands of Native Americans. Instead, we are at Rocket Cat right now--Shawn using my laptop to research how to repair squeaky floors and I using the coffee shop computer and procrastinating any fiction writing. Tonight, we have reservations for a prix fixe (sp?) dinner at Astro Plane. You get appetizers, entrees, dessert, and coffee for a mere $36 each. Then tomorrow, we will venture to Home Depot to rent a sander and scary the living BeJesus out of the cats by shaving off part of our hardwood floors. I have this great hardcover home book that tells you how to do almost anything to your house short of building your own out of Lincoln Logs. I "oh" and "ah" over the projects, but can never imagine actually hot-gluing embroidered daisies to a handmade shower curtain,

I Am a Widowed Bride

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Shawn has been gone to Syracuse for work since Tuesday and I remember now what it's like to be single. The up side--I get the whole bed. The down side--no Shawn and no one to play with Ernesto and so he walks on my head and chirps in my ear when he wants me to wake up at 8 a.m. Today, he stepped on my face. It worked; I got out of bed. I'm teaching Ernesto to fetch using this little rubbery mouse we bought in CA. I've been reading this book about how baby animals learn, and the author talks about how, with the right reward system and reinforcement, animals can obey commands. She also writes about how animals learn by watching other animals perform tricks. I know this must be partially true because Henri knows how to sit for a treat and it only took me about three times to get Ernesto to do the same. So, Henri was watching me throw this mouse back and forth and watching Ernesto showered with praise when he returned with the mouse, but then I tried to get Henri to go

Saturday Report from the Rocket Cat

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Not as many hipsters in here today as there usually are. The fashion item for today is men in black knit caps. I spy four of them right now (there are only about a dozen people present). Also a couple of ironically ugly sweaters (I'm hoping they're ironic). My least favorite barrista is here. She never, ever, never smiles, wears a blank, expressionless face, moves with absolutely no sense of urgency so that you wait for a minimum of ten minutes to get a cup of coffee even when there's just one person ahead of you, and uses the least amount of words possible to complete the transaction no matter how nice you are to her: Example: B: Yes? Customer: Could I please have a cup of coffee for her? B: $1.25. I'm sure if she could manage it, she would just stand looking at you until you pointed at what you wanted, thus requiring no real interaction at all. Here's another exchange Liz and I once witnessed with her. (Confused man standing at counter). B: Yes? Man: Uh...how

Andrew Firestone still has not contacted me

And I thought we had a connection! I was sure he was going to give me a rose! Here's the extent of our conversation: I was on the floor petting his dog before I knew whose dog it was. The dog was really sweet and just laying there like a fallen deer. Andrew said, Yeah, be careful, he's a real killer. I said, Yeah, he's super aggressive. Then Andrew said something about the tile, how it wouldn't stay up without him or something. That's it. That is my entire brush with faux fame except for later when I asked him what the dog's name is and another time when I mentioned that my notes on the different wines were unintelligible. He said, Well, that's good. That means you're having fun. And yet somehow, it just felt right...It just felt like we shared something meaningful , you know? Luckily, I was au natural--no make-up, ill fitting shirt, baggy jeans, wild hair, and pit stains. I was my real self, the self I never want to be in front of anyone remotely attr

Where, where, where do I start?

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I cannot possibly recount everything we did in California since we went to about 5 kajillion places. Highlights, only in the order upon which I remember them: 1. Aquarium in Monterey . We saw lots of otters frolicking and playing with balls and penguins standing in the faux sun with their beaks in the air. I touched a bat ray and wasn't stung. The most beautiful exhibit had to be the jelly fish--even though they gross me out a little because they are so alien looking. Do they have eyes? Brains? 2. Sea lions. Shawn kept calling them fat Henri's. In fact, any animal we saw that was even slightly fat, he compared to a Henri. 3. Trying on clothes at Buffalo Exchange in the Haight district. I know that is totally lame to go a Buffalo Exchange when they have them here, but I am in love with thrift store bargains, as you know. 4. Seeing the big fat round moon through the telescope in San Fran. 5. HDTV (sorry--shallow again, but we got to watch several episodes of the new Laguna Be

Santa Cruz= Sea Lions, Monarch butterflies, and Surfers

Now we're in Santa Cruz--staying at Zena's friend's house with their two cats and rat named Sparky (?). One cat is a fat gray animal with one blind eye and the other cat is MIA--she's a Henri type cat--very shy and easily upset. Zeus, the gray cat, is a love. I suggested they buy an eye patch for him. My suggestion was not received with much enthusiasm. Zena and I spent most of the afternoon driving down a highway with the ocean and cliffs on one side. I told Zena that I was glad she was at the wheel. She asked me why and I explained that I would surely veer off a cliff if I were in charge. We stopped at a Mexican restaurant where we had good tacos. Okay, now we're leaving for dinner...Tomorrow, Monterey.

I don't care about the view

What is wrong with me? I like a nice view--I prefer a nice sweeping, star-studded sky with a full moon to, let's say, looking out the window to see a dumpster and a brick wall. At the same time, I am not like Shawn who will climb a hill to see the view of the seven sisters Victorian houses in San Fran or who took 503 pics of the skyline from various angles. I do like a view if it includes animals. We went to the waterfront the other day and stood watching the fat blobby mermaid sea lions bark at each other and bask in the sun on floating rafts near the dock. I could've watched them for a long time. Yesterday, we rented bikes and rode them up the hill to the Golden Gate bridge and then rode all the way across it. That was beautiful and amazing. I wondered before we got on the bridge if you could really kill yourself by jumping in b/c it didn't look all that high, but once we were on top of it, Shawn said, See what I mean? And yes, you look down and the water is a far,

Like, How Do you Feel about California So Far?

i've not been writing about this vacation at all--we've only been here one night and one day, but I still feel bad about not recording something--not writing down the flight here, the flight where I sat for 5 hours next to a very large woman. The seats are small as it is, but even worse when you're crunched next to Large Marge. Shawn said he felt like he had arms like a brontosaurus, you could only make small arm movements. We made it. Zena picked us up at the airport and then we drove into Berkeley--love that city--lots of hippies, lots of green. Zena showed us the campus and we took an elevator in Barrowes ? Stepped into the elevator with an older man who was seriously irritated by the fact that we pushed the fourth floor button instead of seven. As we exited the elevator, I waved my hands in the air, "omigod, I have so much research to do!" The professor didn't notice. Zena lives in an awesome apartment with hard wood floors and bulit in cabinets. We had

How did the party go?

Well, about ten people showed up, maybe 15? Not many. No one wants to come to Fishtown because it's hard to get cabs from our neighborhood and also because Haley lives across the street (my mom e-mailed me today to tell me not to be too specific in my blogs b/c Haley's mom or someone else might read my journal and tell on me. This is why I never write about work or about anything too too personal. Now I am being a defiant daughter). After I saw Padhraig in the coffee shop, we drove to pick up Liz and Luke at the bus station while Shawn went across state lines to buy beer and wine and alcohol to make punch. Then we went shopping for food and for costume ideas and then back to my fav place in the entire world, Circle Thrift. I was making fun of Padhraig b/c when he was claiming he could go as a French aristocrat and lo and behold, he did it. He found a white George Washington wig, a ruffled shirt, a tie, and leather leggings. If we had prizes, he would've won. I'l