SmileyBits Day 1

I'm not exactly a proponent of making commitments online. Seems like I'm usually setting myself up to fail.

I decided to make this commitment, though, because so much of how I derive my happiness is about sharing with others.

So starting today, until I leave for Indonesia in May, I'm publishing what I'm gonna call the SmileyBits. I want to identify and share the little things in my life that make me feel thankful, joyful, and peaceful.

So to start:

1. The woman at the deli counter at Mayflower Market. She's clearly the mother/aunt to the boys who work in the store, and she's got the best smiling eyes. Something in her greeting makes me feel nurtured every time I place an order.

2. Friends discussing how much space they need in a relationship: "I'd like to get married, but I'm afraid that means I'll probably have to share my bedroom."

3. Buy one get one half off on giant bags of expensive cat food:

4. Duct tape and my ability to make a cheap IKEA drawer last at least a few more months.

5. This chick: http://laughingsquid.com/airplane-lavatory-self-portraits-in-the-flemish-style/

The Life of a Tall Girl

This video is SO true!



They missed a couple of my favorites:
"Are your parents tall?"
"How tall are your parents?"
"I wanna climb that tree!"
"I'll climb that!"

TGIF - Chaotic Communication

I left Hawaii on Wednesday and had a 2 hour layover in Honolulu. I stopped in at Gordon Biersch for a sandwich and had a bit of difficulty getting my order across. The exchange went something like this (edited for grammatic understandability):

Me: "I'd like the Kalua pork sandwich, please."

Bartender chic with thick accent: "French fries or coleslaw?"

Me: "coleslaw."
Me: "Actually, can I get a side of fries, too, please?"

Bartender: "You can't have a side of fries. You can have a side of coleslaw."

"I can't get a side of fries?"

"No, just coleslaw."

"Okay, can I have fries with my sandwich then, and an extra side of coleslaw?"

"No. We don't do fries because garlic fries are an appetizer."

"I don't want garlic fries."

"You can't do a side of garlic fries."

"I don't want garlic fries. I want regular fries."

"We don't have a side of garlic fries because we have the appetizer."

"I don't want garlic fries."

"You can't have garlic fries on the side."

"I don't want garlic fries. I want coleslaw and regular fries."

"We don't do fries, just coleslaw."

"Didn't you just ask me if I wanted fries or coleslaw with my sandwich?"

"Yes, with your sandwich."

"Okay, so can I get fries with my sandwich?"

"Yes, okay."

"And can I get an extra side of coleslaw?"

"Yes."

"Okay, thanks. I'd like a Kalua pork sandwich with fries, plus an extra side of coleslaw."

"You can't do garlic fries."

"I don't want garlic fries, can I have regular fries?"

"We don't do sides of garlic fries because we have the appetizer."

"You are making this so complicated. I want a Kalua pork sandwich with regular fries as a side. Ok?"

"Ok."

"I would also like to add a side of coleslaw. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Ok. Thanks."

She goes to the computer and inputs the order. I get scared that she'll spit in my food. Next time she walks by I say, "Thanks for taking care of that, I know it was confusing."

"Ok. You're welcome."

Smiling, I say, "Don't want to have garlic breath on the plane, you know?"

"Oh. Yes." As she jumps over the computer and changes my order.

*sigh*

That is exactly how I felt in every conversation at work today.

TGIF

Marriage Baggage

A quote from Presumed Innocent, by Scott Turow:

After almost twenty years of sleeping with Barbara, I no longer went to bed with only her. I lay down with five thousand other fucks; with the recollection of younger bodies; with the worries for the million things that supported and surrounded our life: the corroding rain gutters, Nat's unwillingness to study mathematics, the way Raymond, over the years, had come to greet my work with an eye its defects rather than successes, the particular arrogant glint that came into my mother-in-law's eye when she discussed any person outside her immediate family, including me. In our bed, I reached for Barbara through the spectral intervention of all these visitors, all that time.

Holiday 2011 Gift Ideas

Gift Ideas

Houzz- Kitchen Remodel, Bathroom Remodel and More»

Browse Kitchen Products on Houzz- For Example:

Aprons · Cabinet And Drawer Organizers · Dishtowels · Kitchen Countertops · Kitchen Sinks · Kitchen Tile · Gas Ranges And Electric Ranges · Pantry ·

Just Another Day

This morning I was sitting in my office producing a report that I update each week. As I changed the date, I was hit with the reminder that my dad's birthday is tomorrow.

October 19. Tomorrow. Dad's birthday. 

The best way I can think to describe what happened in that instant is that the reminder somehow physically and mentally knocked the wind out of me. I felt like I'd just taken a hard fall. I couldn't inhale or exhale. Time just stopped for a minute.

October 19.

I don't think I actually realized that I had stopped breathing until I finally heard myself gasp a bit for that next breath. I had to go into a meeting, so I told myself it was just another day, shoved it back down, and went on with my work.

~~~

I don't understand why it happened so suddenly. For the last week I've been informing people of an October 19 deadline, creating meetings for Wednesday, and discussing timelines. It just hadn't occurred to me yet. Now, though, even typing it hurts.

~~~

My dad and I didn't talk all that much, but October 19 was different. Even if we were really upset with one another or our lives were so busy we couldn't make time, I always called him on his birthday.

My dad would have been 73 tomorrow. I would have called him and asked him what he did for his birthday. Most likely he would have just had a nice lunch at home and spent time on the farm - like any other day. I'd tell him to make sure and treat himself to something special, and he'd tell me that my brother and sister called and pass along updates. After a pause in the conversation he'd slowly say, "Well, I reckon I better get off here," and we'd end the call with assurances that we'd keep in better touch.  For a few days after the call, we'd text each other quite a bit. The quick hellos and silly dad jokes would come less frequently as my response time increased over the following week or two. I'd let it slide knowing that we'd have another call on Thanksgiving for sure. I would feel a little badly that we didn't talk more, but I'd get wrapped up in my life and move on.

But tomorrow we won't do that. We can't do that. Tomorrow is October 19, and for the first time in my life that day will pass without my talking with him. 

I'm trying to tell myself it's just another day. It is, ultimately. 

And yet, looking at that date, 

October 19

I just can't breathe. 

Responding to Greenpeace Solicitors

You know them...the annoying vested kids on the sidewalk who are always so friggin excited to talk to you...but how do you get rid of them?

I usually just say no quickly or maybe make a phone call, but I'm really enjoying April from Regretsy's approach:

“Hi!” She chirped.
“No,” I said, finishing my soda.
She pouted. “But, we’re saving the environment!”I stopped. “Saving it? Like how? Like recycling or something?”“Well, yes, that’s part of it!” she said, brightening.
“Oh good,” I said, and I handed her my empty bottle.

I know what I'm trying next time.

Humming Home Your Shadow

I was introduced to this traditional story recently, and it was so beautiful I had to share it.

When you get up in the morning, Hoopa Indian children are told, it is very important for you to wait until you get your shadow home. When you go to sleep at night, part of you -- your shadow -- takes off. The part that you've held down all day, the part that you wouldn't let live. When you go to bed, your shadow says, "Now is my chance. I will go out and explore the world that you won't let me touch all day." And off it goes. The shadow has the freedom to go as far away as it wants to, but it has one tie: You have a hum that only your shadow knows. And it can never disobey you. So when you get up in the morning, if you remember to hum, your shadow will come back home. Even though it doesn't want to. So when you get up, before you go out, give your own little hum, and your shadow will say, "Oh! I have to go home," and it will come home. And you are never ready for the day until you have taken time to sing the song of your own shadow. Some people say, "I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed -- I think I'll go back and start over." They've forgotten to hum! Or some people get up at seven, and at ten o'clock they're still saying, "Don't mind me, I'm not all here." They've forgotten to hum! So there is a land of wisdom in remembering to get yourself all here every day. This is taught to the Hoopa tribal children not by saying, "When you get up in the morning you must do this!" but by saying, "Hum your song, so your heart and your spirit come together."  

-- Hoopa, retold by Sister Maria José Hobday

I think I might just be starting my days humming from now on.

Rite Aid Service Recovery WIN

A manager with Rite Aid, I think the regional manager for the area, called me to apologize extensively and talk about how he could get me to go back. While I'm not willing to return to the one that Lek manages, given the effort they made to contact me immediately to resolve the issue, I am happy to try another one in the area. This is great service recovery. Good job, Rite Aid.

The Nasty Truth

I am a friggin genius when it comes to remembering names. I have been known to walk into a party where 20 people are hanging out and impress everyone with my ability to remember everyone's name. And job. And where they live. And I'll do it again in like an hour. And then another. I'm awesome at it. It's my best party trick. But still. I realize that I will probably not see at least half those people again, and that even though I'll remember the names through the night, if I run into one of them in a month, I'll have no idea.

Over the past three years, I've met so many people. I've made great friends, met people I will follow through their careers with great respect, and made tons of career connections. But I've also met a lot of people I will never see again. It's not that I don't care, but that girl I met at that party who is the friend of the wife of the student I just met because we happened to be at the same party - I probably won't see her again. And the truth is, if I do, I'm gonna have to tell her I'm sorry but I don't remember her name.

So I honestly laughed out loud when watching a recent episode of Parks and Recreation:

"Hello, I'm Ben."
"Hi, Dan."
"Uh, Ben."
"It's not important. It won't come up again."

honesty! :)

My Letter to Rite Aid

I decided to try out Rite Aid today, given that it's closer to where I'm staying right now than my former pharmacy, but I was extremely upset by my experience there.

I had surgery to put a severely broken foot back together and am on full bedrest, except that to pick up percocet, you have to show up yourself to the pharmacy. On my very painful and exhausting trip to get my medicine, I was excited to see that Rite Aid offered a 15 minute guarantee so that I could get back to bed quickly. I dropped off my prescriptions at the RIte Aid in Pleasant Hill, CA (2140 Contra Costa Boulevard, Pleasant Hill, CA 94523) and waited for them to be finished.

Within five minutes the pharmacy manager, Lek Sananikone, called me back over. He said the insurance was rejecting my prescription because it was too soon. I informed Lek that I was aware there had been a problem, but that my doctor had just spoken with my insurance company and gave approval to cover it and they had said it was good to go. My doctor had asked that I have the pharmacist call if there was a problem, so I suggested that Lek do this. Lek refused to talk to my doctor and told me to go back to the CVS pharmacy where I had gotten the prior prescription. At this point I was still calm. I explained to Lek again the situation, that my doctor had just talked to the insurance company and that she had asked that the pharmacist call her if there was a problem. He told me to go to back to CVS, that the computer told him no and there was nothing he could do about it. I again stated that my doctor had just gotten off the phone with my insurance company, and perhaps he could call them. He told me the insurance company is already rejecting it, there's nothing he could do, I should go to CVS. At this point I started to get upset because it seemed like he wasn't even trying to help me, he was just trying to get rid of me. I told him this and suggested again that he call my insurance company. He finally did and was on the phone for quite some time. While I waited, I called my doctor and told her what was going on. She asked to speak to the pharmacist, but he was still on with the insurance. She got the insurance company on the other line and they told her everything is fine and it should go through. Lek snapped at me a couple of times telling me I need to be quiet while he is on the phone. He got off the phone and told me there is nothing he can do, the insurance company says it is too soon. I asked him to talk to my doctor. He refused.

At this point I am crying. I am in pain, I am exhausted, I'm on crutches, and I'm not even supposed to be out of bed. My doctor was on the phone with me and asked to speak to Lek, who said no, but I handed him my phone anyway. I do not know the contents of their conversation, but in the meantime my boyfriend suggested that I might be able to pay cash. I asked Lek if this would be possible and he snapped at me to be quiet because he's trying to talk to my doctor. He handed the phone back to me and she was very upset with him. Unfortunately, she can't just write me a new prescription because she is in SF and I'm on bedrest in pleasant hill and I actually have to pick up the handwritten script.  I asked him again if I can just pay cash. He said yes. I asked him why he didn't suggest this in the first place. He didn't answer me. I asked him if it will be a few minutes, and he says yes so I hobble over to the make up section and browse while I wait. That was at 3:05pm. I had arrived at 2:40pm

At 3:30 I still hadn't been called so I went over to the register to wait. My boyfriend made a comment about the 15 minute wait guarantee, and a technician who hadn't been there before asked my name. My prescription was waiting by the register and I had not been called. I made my purchase and asked about the 15 minute guarantee. Lek told her no because there had been an issue. I asked, "You don't honor it because he had to deal with my insurance company?" Lek replied, "there was an issue."

I am visibly upset at this point. I had been crying, frustrated with the system, but most of all frustrated with Lek's lack of interest in helping come to a resolution. From the very beginning he acted as if he just wanted me to go away, and in fact told me several times to just take it to CVS. I was very calm in the beginning, but at this point I am extremely upset. I said to my boyfriend and the technician, "well, lesson learned, I won't be a Rite Aid customer." Lek stopped what he was doing and came over to me to say, "If you hadn't been so rude we would have taken care of you. I would have taken care of everything for you." I remind him that I wasn't upset until he wouldn't help me come to a solution. I told him I've never been treated so badly by a pharmacist before - that I thought pharmacists were supposed to help you make things work. Then we left.

For the record - I am not upset that Lek couldn't make the prescription work. I understand that insurance companies are difficult. I am skeptical that he couldn't have done something more given that my insurance company was on the other line saying it was fine and it should go through. 

I am extremely upset with Lek because:

a) he immediately said "computer says no" and didn't even try to offer a solution, he made it clear he didn't want to help, told me to go to CVS

b) he never even suggested that I could pay cash as an option

c) he was extremely rude to me and my doctor after this

d) once my prescription was ready, he didn't call me and made me wait extra time 

FYI - it wasn't busy. I was the only customer there at this time.

I've worked in customer service and know what it takes. He's the pharmacy manager, he should be more helpful, and more professional. He should also be understanding of the fact that someone picking up a prescription for percocet with her doctor on the phone and standing on crutches in tears might be in a place where she needs a little more help. 

I'm sad because Rite Aid is the closest option for me in Pleasant Hill, but I'll gladly drive much farther to avoid ever having to deal with Lek again. I'm an avid pharmacy customer with several prescriptions per month and a $300 personal budget for supplements and toiletries and such that is almost exclusively spent at Walgreens. I'm young and loyal, and will make the decisions for my family in this arena - so I'm a pharmacy's dream customer. Unfortunately, Lek just made sure that pharmacy won't be Rite Aid. I'll be going back to Walgreens, where in 12 years as a customer I have never encountered one problem that wasn't easily and happily fixed.

The Rite Aid website states: 

Rite Aid is a place where customers are treated with respect and they feel appreciated and welcome.

Rite Aid is committed to providing our customers with superior service and complete satisfaction. Our associates are trained to offer our customers friendly, helpful service in every area of the store.

If you are committed to that statement, you should care about this feedback. As a corporate professional myself, I thought you would like to know.

About Lisfranc Fractures

Thought I'd offer a little info about the type of injury I have. When I initially went in to the doctor, they said it seemed like I had a broken metatarsal, but they couldn't tell for sure and nothing was displaced. They casted me and sent me on my way. The next week I went to a podiatrist, who said it was definitely broken, but that it didn't make sense to do another set of x-rays until the swelling had gone down. She sent me to a podiatric surgeon thinking it might be a lisfranc fracture, but that it wouldn't require surgery because of no displacement. So the next week I went to the surgeon and she did more xrays. When the swelling went down, all the bones went with it. Apparently that's all that was holding my foot together. She made it very clear that I would need pretty immediate surgery and I cancelled my trip to Panama. :(

So about the injury. It's called a lisfranc fracture, named after an 18th century surgeon. It happens when the ligament between a metatarsal (long skinny bone) and a tarsal (short bones in front of the ankle bones) ruptures. Sometimes you can heal it with just a cast if the bones don't move, but when they move out of place you have to have surgery to reset them.

Click here for a great diagram of the injury pre and post surgery.

Frequently, the ligament between the first tarsal and the second metatarsal ruptures, which leads to the metatarsals all moving toward the outside of the foot. Wikipedia has pretty good info on this stuff, but also has a decent xray pic (right).

Now MY injury was slightly different. The 2nd-4th metatarsals were all moved to the left as in the example xray, but there was also a big space between the first two tarsals (the bigger bones at the bottom). My 1st metatarsal had moved in so much that the 1st tarsal protruded and made a big bump on the right (into my arch). It also went up so when you looked at it from the side it was a like a big step where it's supposed to be flat. Mine looked a little more like this:

 

I'll post mine when I get them on disc.

The injury happens when the toe and metatarsal part of your fit go one direction and the ankle and tarsal part go another. For example, Wikipedia has a great little description of common injuries:

This type of injury classically occurred when a horseman fell while riding, having trapped his foot in the stirrup or fallen into a drain. At present, such an injury happens typically in activities such as windsurfing (where participants' feet are in foot straps that pass over the metatarsals), or when one steps into a hole and the foot twists heavily.

At least I've learned a bit during this process. Will share more when I get more.

Foot Surgery Update

My first night after surgery was much better than I expected. Not too much pain at first, then throbbing into the night and my big toe is completely numb.

I talked to the doctor this morning. The surgery went really well and she feels that she was able to reconstruct it beautifully. We had expected to use 4-6 screws, and she only needed two. That's great because it means more of the healing can rely on my own ligaments and such. She also said it's fairly common for my toe to be completely numb, and that it usually goes away. There's a chance it won't, but we'll monitor that over the next week or two and decide what to do about it. 

The anesthetic fully wore off this morning and the severe pain has just set in. I'm on percocet, but they don't really work anymore, so I'm trying to just stay put and sleep and do my yoga breathing to get through it. My toes aren't bound by the cast, so they can move - which is good in some ways, but also means that I inadvertently move them and cause jolts to go up my body. Yeehaw. I'm also starting to feel the soreness from the breathing tube that was down my throat, so not a lot of talking for me. 

So now I go back next week to get it checked, again in another week to put on a full cast, then 4 more weeks of no weight and crutches before switching to my robo-boot and starting rehab. In 3 months I'll have to have another minor surgery to remove the screws, and then rehab. She promised me I'd be on a snowboard by next season and playing basketball by the end of the year. Salsa dancing may take a little longer because of the lack of support in the shoes, but I have a new pair of shoes waiting to be tried, so we'll have to make it work eventually. If anyone has any great ideas for activities I can do with a broken foot, I'd greatly appreciate it. I'm focusing on upper body yoga, lifting arm weights, and in a few weeks kayaking. Definitely need some more cardiac options, though (I can't ride a bike for at least 6 weeks). 

I'm staying with a friend now, but greatly appreciate all the offers of help and will take you up on that once I'm home. 

Lots of love,

mmm

Medical Record Craziness

Currently hating how the medical system works out here in the big city.

To get my surgery Thursday at the ortho place, I have to get my physical and the records from that physical from my doctor at St. Marys, and my labs from the hospital at John Muir. St. Marys and John Muir have not been super timely, so my surgery is at risk.

I'm the patient needing surgery and sitting here trying to coordinate 3 different places to get this all in order so they don't postpone it. Days like today make me almost wish I had Kaiser.

Can we please get everyone on board with digital data management?

Not an Uncommon Church Issue

I watch 20/20 on hulu. I almost hate to admit it, but it's a guilty pleasure left over my childhood and time with my mom. The April 8 episode features a girl who was raped and then instructed by her radical fundamentalist church to forgive and forget, to the point where she was basically told it was all her fault and she needed to repent for HER sins. To the point where she didn't turn him in or press charges. This young woman spent her life thinking she did everything wrong and that this guy did nothing wrong. She spent her life thinking she couldn't turn to God or anyone else for help. She was actually told she was lucky that she didn't live in old times because she would have been stoned. She was FIFTEEN when it happened. NO matter her age, This is NOT okay. This is NOT uncommon. This is actually a story I've heard time and time again from fundamentalist evangelical churches, particularly in the midwest. Incredibly sad. I'm livid, but I'm also happy to see this in mainstream media. I think people don't realize how powerful churches can be in the lives of young girls.

You can watch the 20/20 episode of her story here:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/231215/abc-2020-fri-apr-8-2011

The news story hit papers in 2010:
http://abcnews.go.com/Health/MindMoodNews/alleged-rape-victim-accuses-trinity-baptist-church-deacon/story?id=10806348

What I Want

I watch the show Parenthood regularly. One of the things I always envy is how there are so many siblings who love each other and are there for each other through their lives. It makes me want more than 2 kids...even though I feel like 2 is probably the responsible number.

But this...this got me. In the last episode, the oldest of the children, a high school senior, was in a car accident.

This is the next scene. Watch the first 3 minutes.

Parenthood - Watch the First Three Minutes

This. This is what I want.

Not the car wreck, you idiots. The massive support.

Laundry/Sick Day

You know you're an adult when you stay home from an evening obligation because you're geting sick and then spend the night doing laundry and cleaning because that's the only time you have to actually get stuff done.

Songs My Future Man Will Deserve #3

I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders


Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me now
Don't be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through
'Cause I've seen the dark side too

When the night falls on you
You don't know what to do
Nothin' you confess, could make me love you less

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you

So, if you're mad, get mad
Don't hold it all inside
Come on and talk to me now

Hey, what you got to hide?
I get angry too
Well I'm a lot like you

When you're standing at the crossroads
And don't know which path to choose
Let me come along
'Cause even if you're wrong

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you

Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you
I'll stand by you

And when, when the night falls on you, baby
You're feelin' all alone
You won't be on your own

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you
Yeah

Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you

I'll stand by you
No, no, no, no, no
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you

Songs My Future Man Will Deserve #2

Good Hearted Man - Tift Merritt


Swore that I was living free
Boy, you couldn't talk to me
And the pride that kept me
Didn't know no company

Early morning subway train
Feeling lost and runnin' late
Well he held the car
He gave his seat to me

And I can't find nothin'
Feels so fine as lovin' a good hearted man
Oh he can sooth me, free me
Oh I'm going to marry that good hearted man

I told him that he better go
?Cause I was crazy and impossible
That my love was broken
My dreams had run all wild

Patient as the easy rain
Oh he never turned away
Callin' "Hey sweet woman
You know you're not a child"

And I can't find nothin'
Feels so fine as lovin' a good hearted man
Oh he can sooth me, free me
Oh I'm gonna marry that good hearted man

Good hearted man, now the night makes sense
Because your tenderness, it's shelter in me
So trading in that hard headed kid for a woman I can give to him
And it ain't easy but I'm gonna do the best I can for that good hearted man

You know there just aint nothin'
Feels so fine as lovin' a good hearted man
Oh he can sooth me, free me
Oh I'm gonna marry that good hearted man

Oh and I'm grateful, grateful
Got to say thank you to a good hearted man

Songs My Future Man Will Deserve #1

Head Over Feet  - Alanis Morrissette

I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience

You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long

I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

Black Walnuts

I had a beautiful moment today.

At the dinner gathering after my father's funeral, we had a traditional family potluck. When dessert time came, I chose a brownie and sat down to enjoy it. I took a bite and tasted something I loved but couldn't quite recall. After a few moments, I realized that the brownie was made with black walnuts. Black walnuts, as opposed to English walnuts, have an extremely unique taste. Wildman Steve Brill says:

Black walnuts have a strong, rich, smoky flavor with a hint of wine. Use them any recipe that call for nuts, but unless you’re featuring the black walnut's flavor, use it sparingly, or it will overpower everything else. I often combine one part black walnuts with three parts commercial (English) walnuts.

A lot of people don't like them, but they grow everywhere here in Missouri and we used to pick them up off the ground to eat them. I'm not even sure you can find black walnuts in SF. Anyway, it was just one of those moments in which I found immense joy in being from the Ozarks and felt a real sense of coming home.

Soundtrack of My Soul #7

Life Ain't Always Beautiful - Gary Allan


Life ain't always beautiful
Sometimes it's just plain hard
Life can knock you down, it can break your heart

Life ain't always beautiful
You think you're on your way
And it's just a dead end road at the end of the day

But the struggles makes you stronger
And the changes make you wise
And happiness has its own way of takin' it sweet time

No,life aint always beautiful
Tears will fall sometimes
Life aint always beautiful
But it's a beautiful ride

Life aint always beautiful
Some days I miss your smile
I get tired of walkin' all these lonely miles

And I wish for just one minute
I could see your pretty face
Guess I can dream, but life don't work that way

But the struggles makes me stronger
And the changes make me wise
And happiness has its own way of takin' its sweet time

No, life ain't always beautiful
But I know I'll be fine
Hey, life ain't always beautiful
But its a beautiful ride
What a beautiful ride

A Book About Memories: Year of Fog

Just finished another Michelle Richmond book, The Year of Fog. It talks a lot about memory, both very technical aspects and some of the softer sides. Some quotes I liked:

"That's the great thing about kids. I mean, when was the last time you were so excited about something you actually wet your pants?"

~~~

Requoted from Walker Percy's Moviegoer:
"To become aware of the possibility of a search is to be onto something. Not to be onto something is to be in despair."

Stuff from Books: No One You Know

Just finished reading Michelle Richmond's No One You Know. Quick read, suspenseful and moving, and filled with a few great quotes. Here are some I like:

A requote from Graham Greene's The End of the Affair:  A story has no beginning or end, arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.

~~~

Every story is an invention, subject to the whims of the author. For the audience on the other side of the page, the words march forward with a certain inevitability--as if the story could exist one way only, the way in which it is written. But there is never just one way to tell a story. Someone has chosen who will emerge as the hero or heroine, and who will play the villain. Each choice is made at the expense of an infinite number of variations. Who is to say which version of the story is true?

~~~

Sunrise had a way of putting an end to intimacy; the vulnerabilities men displayed in the middle of the night seemed to disappear with the moon and stars.

~~~

The seed of every relationship's demise is always apparent, even from the very first moment. If you look closely at the beginning, you will always be able to see the end.

~~~

It's just a story. You can take it or leave it. Stories aren't set in stone.

~~~

There is no such thing as a perfect ending, no such thing as an infallible narrative map. Arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. Every story is flawed, every story is subject to change. Even after it is set down in print, between the covers a book, a story is not immune to alteration. People can go on telling it in their own way, remembering it the way they want. And in each telling the ending may change, or even the beginning. Inevitably, in some cases it will be worse, and in others it just might be better. A story, after all, does not only belong to the one who is telling it. It belongs, in equal measure, to the one who is listening.

Lovin Lovett

A little in love with Lyle Lovett right now.

If I had a boat
I'd go out on the ocean
And if I had a pony
I'd ride him on my boat
And we could all together
Go out on the ocean
Me upon my pony on my boat

Chilean Miners See Light

For whatever reason, I am far more affected by this event than I would have ever expected. Maybe its because we were in Chile when the mine collapsed, or because I fell a little bit in love with the Chilean people and their spirit...I don't know exactly. But I do know that I am watching - riveted, along with the entire country of Chile, as every last miner is brought of the dark shaft they've called home the past two months. Mucho amor, hombres inspiradores.

Last night was silent. No cars on the streets. Every Chilean was sitting in front of the TV set and waiting to see the first face emerging from the bottom of the earth.

Hope was what we all were feeling. Only hope.

A technological device, a system designed to lift human beings that are at the bottom and bring them up is a powerful image. It is what we would like our socioeconomic system to be able to do with the poor. What we have been watching is somewhat linked to that dream, I think.

Of course, the most impressive moment was when the capsule Phoenix 2 appeared up there. Then it gradually went down and gently, tentatively, with shyness touched the floor of the hard rock.

Technology + poetry = humanity.

The first miner, Florencio Avalos, appears--like a newborn. His kid and wife are there. He hugs them. He looks fine. After 68 days under the Earth, his eyes, with sunglasses though, are the first to look up at the stars.

And we feel, with old Dante, that on this night in Chile, love moves the sun and all the other stars.

Sometimes, after all, life is as it should be.

 Read more:  http://www.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/10/13/fontaine.chile.miners/index.html?hpt=C1

Wisdom from Reader's Digest

My wonderful mother gifts me with a subscription to Reader's Digest every year. As silly as it may seem, I actually really enjoy it. As a kid, RD was one of those things that came in the mail that was actually interesting to me. Finding that little thick rectangle in a stack of bills was always a reward for fetching the mail. So I read it. Still.

A quote from a recent issue I just had to share:

"The only reason to be in a long-term relationship with another adult is to have someone to laugh with. That's it. Because you can always hire someone to put in windows."

Feeling the Pam Houston Tonight

Just needed to get lost in my favorite female author for awhile. Thought I'd share some of the quotes that spoke to me. (I've posted some of these long ago here.)

"I wanted her to see that the only life worth living is a life full of love; that loss is always part of the equation; that love and loss conjoined are the best opportunity we get to live fully, to be our strongest, our most compassionate, our most graceful selves. "

"Life gives us what we need when we need it; receiving what it gives us is a whole other thing."

"The more important question, of course, was what the new Lucy would do, and even though I was pretty sure the old Lucy wouldn't be around much anymore, I was a little bit afraid the new Lucy hadn't yet shown up."

"The Universe has a plan to make sure we don't ever stop learning, not only in our minds, but also in our hearts."

"She's felt so bad for so long she don't know good when it's bubbling right out of her. And even when she catches up to it, she's waiting for whatever bad thing is about to happen next."

"If I had a daughter, I would tell her what a funny thing love is, how it never looks the way you think it's going to, how no matter how old you get, it is love that keeps surprising you. How in the songs sometimes it involves beaches and champagne and chocolate-covered roses, but in real life it is just a prematurely balding man standing in a drought-dried field telling you that he loves you, and that you should do whatever on earth you want."

"She wasted so much time trying to act perfectly, trying to guard against the loss, always fearful of making the mistake that would lead to it."

"I thought about all the years I'd spent saying love and freedom were mutually exclusive and living my life as though they were exactly the same thing."

"In every assumption is contained the possibility of its opposite."

"You wonder why there's no word for the opposite of lonely. You wonder if there's a difference between whatever might be truth and a performance that isn't a lie. In your life right now, you can't find one."

Coach Wooden, RIP

I first learned about John Wooden when my college basketball team was on a trajectory of consecutive wins in 2000. As we passed 70 consecutive wins, we started targeting Coach Wooden's record of 88 wins in a row with the '71-'74 UCLA men's team. We surpassed the record for DIII (SUNY Potsdam men's 1987 team hit 60). We surpassed the record for NCAA Women's Basketball of all Divisions (Connecticut made it to 70 wins in a row in 2003, after we ended our streak).


NCAA Record Book

We lost our 81st game, against the small religious school across the street. Sports Illustrated was there to report on our streak. And we lost. But we made it far enough that only one team in NCAA, any Division, had more consecutive wins than us. And that was Coach Wooden's 1970's Bruins.

When my team won their fourth national championship, we got these beautiful rings that had a big "81" inscribed in the side. I would look down and see that 81 and feel connected in this crazy way to my former coach, to Coach Wooden, and to the principles they both demonstrated.

A few of my favorite Wooden quotes:

"Success comes from knowing that you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming."

"Don't let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do."

"Ability may get you to the top, but it takes character to keep you there."

"If you're not making mistakes, then you're not doing anything. I'm positive that a doer makes mistakes."

And, ironically, it was John Wooden who led me to believe that maybe it was time for me to quit basketball during my junior year:

"What you are as a person is far more important that what you are as a basketball player."

A couple of weeks ago I took off my ring for a league basketball game, and when I went to put it back on I couldn't find it. Given that I played off the bench, I'm not exactly sure about asking for a replacement, but I've got to say I've missed that ring immensely.

And today I miss it more.

Rest in Peace, Coach.

SFist's Reasons to Love San Francisco

I'm very much enjoying a new feature on SFist called 7 Reasons. Two of the first three posts are about why San Francisco is amazing.

I concur.

Embrace the Good

"It's not fate versus free will. It's fate and free will."

"Every day God puts something good in your life. Embrace it. And let all the other stuff fall away."

~Crazy wise religious guy on Flash Forward

Remember This. Write it Down. Don't Forget.

If you have been hurt or wronged it is not your responsibility to attempt to rectify the situation.

A lovely piece of advice from Dating is Miserable.

SF's Commitment Issues

Great article in 7x7 about dating in SF. It doesn't get into much detail, but I appreciated this insight:

Opening yourself to love means “accepting your place in human history.” Whoa. Could that be the real reason for San Franciscans’ inability to settle down? Are we so attached to the idea of being exceptional that we just can’t fathom settling—which would mean, in this case, settling down into the great ordinary mass of humanity? Is long-term love (as opposed to sex and romance) just too ordinary for San Franciscans?

I think there's something to this.

The people who work their asses off to get here and succeed are frequently very extraordinary people. Maybe we have unrealistic explanations about what love and commitment is supposed to feel like, supposed to be. Maybe we won't find it until we're willing to accept that sometimes the extraordinary is something that find everywhere, in everyone, right in front of our eyes.

Thought on What Women Want

 From Cougar Town

There is no end to what a man must do for a woman
~Ellie
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grayson:
How can I still not understand what women want?

Jules:
Women just want a guy who respects our independence, but also wants to take care of us.
We want a guy who's secure, but also gets jealous.
We want a guy who truly listens to us, but also wants us to kinda shut up.
Like yesterday, when you were being a little mean to me, but you weren't being too mean, that was so hot.


Grayson:
It sucks being a dude...women want an everything man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Everything Man"

Runnin', runnin', runnin' just as fast as I can
Trying to be your everything man.

You want me to want you, but not every day.
You want me to beg when there is nothing to say.

You want me la la la la but there's always a hitch.
La la la la la when you act like a bitch.

You want toughness and sweetness
and softness and meanness
wanna make me the master of this inbetweenness

Runnin', runnin', runnin' just as fast as I can
Trying to be your everything man.

Witty Irishmen

I had the incredible opportunity last night to hear Rory O'Driscoll of Scale Ventures speak about the venture capital industry. Phenomenal speaker. The man is effing brilliant -- he kept throwing out references to macroeconomic concepts in relation to his work and he always had a couple of answers to each question depending on how you looked at the issue.

A couple of gems stuck with me:

"Relying on people to do the right thing for other people is not a scaleable process."

"You don't need to cap your upside going in. Life will cap your upside for you."

"You know I'm not lying now because we're talking with money."

Brilliant Man.

Told You I'm Not the Only One

Even SF Weekly thinks SF is a tough city for women looking to date men.

This week they featured an article about a pick-up artist who tried to teach SF women how to pick up men in the city...and found it more difficult than he expected.

Read for yourself: Girl Game

Some favorite excerpts:

...being a single, straight woman in this city can be an exercise in frustration and humiliation. All around the city, successful single women complain about not being able to find quality partners.

Although there's no hard data to prove it, anecdotal evidence abounds.

One possible explanation is that in San Francisco, men who aren't gay, married, or damaged by a previous owner are decidedly cagey when it comes to dating and relationships. "Men are more timid here to ask women out," says Emily Morse, a local radio show host who regularly discusses sex and relationships. "They also seem to think dating just isn't cool."

------------

"I've never had as much trouble finding people to date as I have here," a woman wrote. It was the first response to an SF Weekly tweet calling for women fed up with the dating scene in San Francisco and willing to subject themselves to a pickup artist's workshop. "I moved to the city after a nasty breakup, expecting to casually date people," she continued. "I couldn't even get laid at first."

Plenty of other responses zoomed in, many including pointed complaints about male-female relations. "I've never seen so much dating down in my life," a woman wrote, referring to how many couples she knows that seem to include a smart, attractive woman and an average, barely tolerable guy.

------------

In San Francisco, though, women have to deal with a lot of ambiguity. "We don't even know what it is," Valencia said of some men she has encountered around the city. "Is it gay? Is it straight? Is it a friend Is it a foe? Is it looking for a job? Is it looking for a place to crash?"

Another contributing factor to the dating doldrums: "There's no pressure to grow up here," she says. "The way I act now is pretty much the same way I acted when I was 24. It's culturally reinforced here. Nobody cares that you're in your late 30s and have roommates."

------------

But as someone who has lived in New York City, she has noticed that in San Francisco, men are not very bold in approaching women.

"Here, there are all these group get-togethers," she says. "Men prefer to see women a few times before asking them out." And, as in any other city full of young, ambitious people, San Franciscans seem less interested in settling down than in exploring their options.

------------

Maybe it was because we were out on a Wednesday. Maybe we had chosen the wrong bar. But that particular scenario — having just a couple of attractive men to fight over, finding out they're gay, then hitting on them anyway — seemed a perfect representation of what it's like for a single woman in San Francisco.

------------ 

Valencia said her mother has a theory about men. "A good guy is like a good bra," she used to say. "He should uplift and make you look beautiful. He should fit really well. He should flatter you and never poke you in the wrong place or make you uncomfortable."

------------ 

Dating's hard! (said in an incredibly whiny voice, of course)

Bad Decisions

Saturday the waves were strong enough for Mavericks to finally be held, after a hiatus from less than stellar waves. The waves were record-breaking, and while the contestants avoided serious catastrophe, several spectators were injured.

So maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the best day to go swimming off the coast of Carmel. Just a thought.

Good Mothering

Overheard in SF:

"If he can't figure out the public transportation system, well ... I don't want you dating him."
(Mother to teenage girl, overheard at San Francisco General Hospital)

There's more where that came from on SFGate.com.

No Pretty Boys

You would think the news that most women prefer pretty boys would make my life easier.



Give me a strong jaw line and a bit of ruggedness any day.

Saturday Afternoon

She squints as the clouds blow by, letting the sun flash in through the cafe window.
"I just don't get why he hasn't called back. It's been two days. He never takes this long."

One of the other three women at the table hands her a pair of sunglasses.
"Honey, don't worry about it, he's probably out of town...somewhere with no reception."

"Or," another drawls as she examines her reflection in the window, "he's so wrapped up in some other girl he hasn't even checked his phone." She brushes off the death glares and napkin wads.

"Maybe he got into a terrible accident and he's in a hospital somewhere. He could be dying wishing I was by his side! Maybe I should call around?"

"Don't sound so hopeful."

"Well, it's better than another woman." She pushes out her bottom lip.

The fourth woman speaks up. "Maybe he's in jail."

"If only he was exciting enough for me to believe that one. It's probably something totally boring. I bet he dropped his phone in the toilet and fried his contacts."

"You really think he's the kind of guy who wouldn't have them backed up?"

"Oh, damn."

"Maybe a friend came into town unexpectedly and he just isn't thinking about it."

"Yeah, the woman he's wrapped up in." This time she dodges french fries.

The phone rings.

Living Life Without Regrets

I used to live my life without much regard for my safety. I did what I wanted when I wanted, and while I took reasonable precautions, in general I wasn't overly occupied with thoughts of danger.

Over the past few years, I built up a life for myself that could lead to a nice secure future. I got to a point of financial stability and job and career security, and I gave up risks that might jeopardize those. I was working toward a family, so I stopped thinking about the things I wanted to try before I got there.

In the past year, enough has happened to completely turn that back around for me. The recession, heartbreak, family struggles, health scares...so much has fallen together to remind me to look inward and determine what's important to me.

While what I really want is to travel, spending time in lots of crazy remote places where a saner person might not venture, I do still have some restraints. I'm in school, I've got a job, I've got the chance to invest now in a way that could lead me to a job that would allow me the ability to do the travel I want in the future. What these restraints don't do, however, is keep me from pursuing some of the adventures I can locally. Sailing, salsa dancing, climbing, caving, surfing, skydiving, scuba, intense yoga retreats...these are all things I can do here, and I've avoided because I felt like I was saving time and money for something that just isn't gonna happen now. I felt like I'd have time to do those things, but the truth is, I might not.

I was talking to my sister, an insurance agent, today about adding another life insurance policy so that I could feel a bit better about protecting my mom. She, of course, wanted to know why. So I told her. I'm scared to wait to do the things I'm scared to do. I want to do everything that scares me, and I want to do it now.

Some things that scare me are simple and silly. The other night I was walking with A to the gym and we passed the boxing gym with a sign that said "First Class Free". I was having a very difficult day and not feeling super confident, and A kinda reached toward my arm to pull me in and just walked to the front desk and asked how we get started. The guys (totally hot, btw!) were so amused by us, and specifically asked us to come back when one of them would be teaching. We're now set to start next week. I'm so excited about this little act. Yes, simple, silly - why would I be scared of a boxing class? Why am I intimidated by a bunch of guys and staring and judging and thinking I'm not good enough? Ridic, but still a real fear.

Other things that scare me are a little more serious. I want to walk by a cliff by the ocean and climb it because it's there - not because someone has a rope course already laid out. I want to boulder in the surf along the coast. I did a teensy bit of that down in Big Sur in December, but it was just enough to whet my appetite. I want to explore a cave nobody knows. I want to go where I want to go, regardless of locks or fences or signs. I want dive a shipwreck, jump out of a plane, sail down the coast...I want to do it all.

This is what I told my sister. I guess I expected her to argue with me because I found myself surprised when she told me that she not only supported my decision, but also encouraged me to do everything I can while I can. She reminded me that while our family lives long lives, you never know when some health scare or financial trauma will hit and make everything impossible. If I'm gonna do it, I need to do it now.

She ended the phone call by telling me something she's said to me many times over the years. There are many iterations of this quote, but my sister's simplified, drawled version is by far my favorite:

There's no reason to live my life so I come out pretty in the end. I wanna come out all used up and messy and screaming, "Wooo Hoooo, What a Ride!"

Thanks, Sissy.

You Know You're From Springfield When...

although I'm actually from a small town outside of Springfield, all of these made me smile with a bit of nostalgia this morning (especially after the crazy changing weather we've had here in SF the past couple days...I miss thunder!)

You know you're from Springfield, MO when...

you take out-of-town guests to Bass Pro Shops.

your high school had more pickup trucks than cars.

you still have to think every time someone says MSU.

you knew someone you went to school with/dated/taught/worked with Brad Pitt.

you've crashed other schools' proms.

you started watching "The Bachelor" second season.

you've bought live bait at a local gas station.

the concept of numbered streets is totally foreign to you.

you know which restaurant owner invented cashew chicken, and you debate where to get the best.

when someone mentions minorities, you think they're talking about underage drinking.

your whole town stood outside watching tornados rather than taking shelter.

road construction and lake levels lead the local news.

you go to the park at 3pm to enjoy a sunny day, and by 3:05 you're running for cover from the thunderstorms.

you can count all the escalators in town on one hand.

you mark significant events by which ice storm it was closest to.

you can throw a rock from any corner and hit either a church or a chinese restaurant.

you only know who Robert Franklin Stroud, John Gotti, Larry Flynt, and Manuel Noriega are because they were patients at the federal prison medical center, and you cheered when Johnny Sack died on The Sopranos because you knew the place.

you cruised Battlefield.

I am a Moron

I had a bit of an emotional break on Sunday night taking care of the ex's cat. In looking for a bowl to put down extra water, I opened cabinets to find MY dishes. Dishes I'd had since before I met the ex. I knew of course that I had given him these dishes...but to see my dishes in his apartment was a little jolt to me. I noticed on his counter that he had bottles of wine that we'd picked out together. Also, we raised a kitten together. And seeing his new cat in kitten stage...seeing him make choices he learned from our experience. It was all a little much.

That night I had a dream involving kangaroos - I'd been viewing someone's pics that evening - and I woke up thinking about the Australian wine we chose together. The really good (relative term for a region that specializes in Sancerre) bottle of  Shiraz we brought back from the Hunter Valley (from a beautiful winery called Iron something or other) has been waiting for me to have a moment like this. The wine represented a time when my future was planned much differently than it is today, and I wanted to toast to that memory and drink it away.

I pulled out the bottle with A, but we couldn't finish it. We acknowledged that it wasn't something we'd normally drink, but we tried to take it in context. This was a red wine from a region known for sweet whites. That's why it was really fruity and too sweet. But it meant something to me. And I knew I had liked this wine in Australia.

After a glass I turned to A and asked if she was sure it wasn't corked. She confirmed that it wasn't, and that this was just not a wine we would normally drink.

The symbolism inherent in a wine that I had loved and hoped for and waited for turning out disappointing was just too much for me to bear, and I couldn't have any more. But I also couldn't bring myself to pour it down the drain. This wine meant something. I was certain the taste I didn't like was based more on my emotion than on actual flavor qualities.

In a fit of not caring about providing alcohol to the homeless, I hoped to find someone on the way home who could use a little bit of a warming up (yep, judge me now). The two guys normally camped out on California weren't there. The woman on Hyde was nowhere to be found. I wanted someone to appreciate this wine.

It occurred to me that my neighbor might enjoy trying a wine that can't be purchased here, as he is just starting to really learn the ins and outs. So I take over the remainder of the bottle, but he makes it very clear that it is, in fact, shitty wine. I take another sip and finally admit to myself that it's awful. The altitude from the flight must have killed the flavor. I was upset, but there was also something slightly liberating about pouring it down the drain.

So this morning I get a text with a pic attached, asking me why my Australian wine has a California label. I look at the picture, scour my wine racks, and let my mistake sink in.

This is the wine I had last night. You can buy it for $7 in discount stores. Don't buy it. It's crap.

And this is the wine (unopened) I brought over from Australia. You can't buy it here, but if you bought it there it would be currently be about $25.

I got emotional over a crap Lodi wine (also from a fantastic trip, though!) while my Hunter Valley shiraz sat safely in my apartment.

On the upside, I think I've embarrassed myself enough lately that I no longer have any shame.

From the Mouths of SF Men

Continuing the conversation about nice guys and/or SF passive guys...

I was recently out with a friend who moved here last year from the East Coast and his roommate, who was born and bred in the Bay Area. My friend is the epitome of what I think it means to be a man. (Well, almost...Marlboro Man of Pioneer Woman is the true epitome, but I'm so never gonna meet that type out here.) He pays - even for friends when he can. He makes decisions, he open doors, he carries heavy things, he takes risks, he displays confidence, he walks girls home or hails their cab...as I'd say it back home, his mama done him good. So, knowing my friend's answer already, I asked the roommate if he always paid on the first date. Without hesitation he said no. We delved a little further and he emphasized that he behaves out of a belief in equality, not out of being a cheapskate. He said that he does usually offer to pay, but that the girls frequently argue with him and he's not going to let that go on all night. It seems like maybe the women are the cause of confusion rather than the guys not manning up. Unfortunately, I'm starting to think neither the men nor the women of SF were properly taught the rules (or they let go of their training in the confusion of SF liberalness). To do my part for my humanity, I decided to clarify the rules of paying for dates, as learned in southern Missouri and followed thus far by every man I've ever dated except SF boys.

First Date:

Bill comes, I take out my card in an offer to pay for my half.
He argues and says he has it.
I say thank you and put my card away.

If he actually lets me pay my half, there will be no second date.
I don't care how poor/broke you are. I don't need much. But if I'm not worth you making that gesture the first time we meet, it's not a date, and you therefore won't be getting a second one.

Second Date:

Now, this one is slightly more tricky.
If the first date was fairly expensive, I'm likely to ask if I can take him out this time and insist that I pay, but it will be for a less expensive thing than he did. I will also let him pitch in for drinks or pay half the bill for the date if he insists (and this would earn points and increase likelihood of 3rd date).

If the first date was normal, I'll again offer to pay my half, but I won't be offended if he accepts my offer.
I would expect him to then do something extra, though, like pay for a cab or purchase an after dinner drink. It wouldn't be points against him if he didn't, but it sets it up for a weird dynamic in which we're already discussing who pays for what a little soon in the dating scheme.

If he pays for the second date in full, I will be sure to pay for after dinner drinks or a cab or something small. I will also insist that I get to treat him next time, but again, he'll earn bonus points if on that next time he picks up some small thing like a drink or cab.

And so it goes until it evens out with him paying about 3:2 or so.

I like this plan. I have no problem feeling like he is taking care of me financially in regard to those dates, because it will even out. I'll keep my fridge stocked with his favorite beer or keep his whiskey at my bar. I'll buy the groceries when I make him dinner. I'll spend money on pretty underwear for his benefit. It just works.

The problem with the SF man not paying for the dates in the same way means the other stuff no longer evens out. So I spend money on make-up and hair and cute shoes and facials and yoga classes and sexy underwear - all so he gets what he wants. And now I ALSO have to share the burden of half the dates? As if men spend nearly as much as we do on these things. And honestly, if I trust him to pick up the alcohol, it's gonna be all beer all the time, and sometimes I need to go pick out that fancy bottle of wine. Am I supposed to ask him to repay me for half? Or groceries - I will always go for the local organic cut of beef, so if I expect that I have to buy it...which means I'm paying for it then, too.

These men who are trying to be more equal are forgetting about the natural dynamic that has worked for decades.
YES, I make money. I may even make as much as you. But women still don't make as much as men, even in the exact same positions at the same company. And men sure as hell don't shell out $150 to keep their skin clear and soft, their hair shiny and touchable, their hairy regions waxed, and everything else perfect just for us.

Boys, if you want to date a girl who doesn't wear make-up, shows up in the same clothes you wear, never wears sexy lingerie, has hairy legs and armpits, has wrinkles and/or major zits, and smells like discount soap - fine. Then you can let her pay. And yeah, you may think that beautiful chick across the bar is just that girl, but that's only because you don't know what goes into creating that "natural" look. You know how long we fuss just to make sure that one tousled lock of hair falls just so? And yes, we do it for us. But we also do it for you. So when you go around deciding to treat us equally by choosing not to pay for that first date, you throw off the balance. All of a sudden we're paying equally, but we're putting far more effort into our appearance. Then we start to think maybe we're better than you. Then we start looking for the guy who will pay. OR, we stop giving a shit, stop shaving, and start wearing ratty old grandma undies with holes and frayed waistbands. Up to you boys, make your choice.

ANYWAY, this all came up again because I was reading Why There Are No Girls in SF and Sam posted a guy's perspective of the city's unaggressive men. Sam points out that men are unaggressive here, in this case in approaching women, because the women are too damn scary.

SF women seem to have this hybrid sensibility of hill-billy southern gallantry, where prescribed gender roles dictate who should aggressively pursue whom, and a regionally specific 70s-style extremist feminism, where there is hyper sensitivity to being hit on. According to San Francisco magazine, “Bay Area women have been known to react to innocent flirting as if they'd been groped ...

That’s the paradox. SF women get sort of annoyed when guys attempt to seduce them. Not bemused or bored, annoyed. The fact that the average SF guy has the charm of a yard rake doesn't matter. SF women want men to make advances on them but without them knowing that the advance is being made, which requires not just Code speak but pretending to be gay.

This creates what anthropologists call a double bind dilemma. A successful response to one message implicates a failed response to the other, so that the person will be automatically wrong regardless of response. It's pretty much the kind of thing that broke the Union in 1861 and makes the Middle East a total mess. So if you’re a guy in San Francisco and there's a pretty girl sitting next to you, what’s the right move? You keep quiet, keep your head down and hope no one starts yelling.

And you know what? I think maybe he's right. We are an independent sort here in SF, and it is frequently the case when we are out that we don't want to be bothered. Sometimes a guy interupting girl time is intrusive, and perhaps SF girls are a little more vocal about that. Maybe that leads to exactly what Sam posits about men just keeping their heads down and waiting for the girls to come to them.

Now, I was taught that if you aren't interested you always say thank you with a big smile and simply decline the opportunity for an introduction or a free drink. This encourages men to keep trying with other woman. Having seen other women out here react harshly to come-ons, I have to wonder if this isn't all our fault. Have too many of us women rejected vocally and meanly to the point where all the SF balls are now shriveled and tucked up inside never to be seen again? Honestly? It almost makes me feel more sorry for the guys here than disgusted with them. Good thing I'm way past my pity sex days.

Ladies, we need to understand our job. The men need to understand theirs.

We get pretty, we smell nice, we buy nice underwear and bat our eyelashes. Men pay (at least at first and usually slightly more overall), open doors, carry heavy things. Not because we can't do those things, but because they want to do them for us.

We can be equals, we can share power, but come on...there's a nice balance to how things work (one I find particularly sexy), and we're seeing the evidence of f*cking with that as plain as day.

Pioneer Woman's Love Story

I'm still not a hundred percent sure how I came across her website, but Ree, better known as Pioneer Woman, has a collection of blog posts that are stealing all of my time.

Ree was a midwestern girl who moved to LA for college and loved it. She stayed a few years after, knowing that she needed the big city, and happy in a long relationship.

As that relationship progressed, though, Ree realized that she needed some time alone to figure things out. She didn't know exactly what she wanted to do or where she wanted to be, so she went home.

Then she met the cowboy.

Seriously, this woman lived my effing fantasy. Except for the whole, move away from the ocean AND the city thing. Not sure I could handle that one.

Her writing is worthy of any romance section, but ladies beware - you'll be pulled in faster than you think.

On this one, though, I'm gonna say it's worth it.

Read Ree's Story.
(read from the bottom up)

Weirdly, I prefer reading it in those installments. Once you get far enough in, however, you'll find Ree's link to the entire story all in one place. Try that if it makes you happier.

Giving In

"When did you know?"
The girl looked up from the sofa through her tears, searching for answers only time could offer.

The reply came with a sweet smile of sadness and amusement.
"Oh, honey," her voice cracked with sorrow and gentle laughter,
"It just smacked me upside the head."
She lowered herself into the cushions and pulled her daughter to her chest.
"When your daddy walked through that door, I think I just gave in. Some long fought battle just stopped raging and opened me up to somethin' more."

The girl sighed the deep sigh of young love,
"I want that."

She kissed the top of those dark blonde curls and smiled into the space around them.
"I know, baby girl.
I know."

Annoyances

I have a pet peeve that is beginning to turn into irrational anger.

When I go through a checkout, I want to get through as quickly as possible. I'm ready with my cards, have my bag open, and I put groceries in as they're scanned...all very efficient. I open my wallet to put my cash in and I'm ready to close it up and go every time.

But then...

Then the cash comes out, and instead of handing it to me, the clerk waits until the receipt prints, puts the receipt with the cash, and then hands me the mismatched bundle. The receipts are too big to go in my wallet, so I now have to separate the receipt before putting my cash in my wallet. The clerk COULD have given me my cash, let me put my wallet away while the receipt was printing, and then handed it to me and I'd be out of the next person's way. But no, they have to make it take longer b/c now I have to separate the receipt so I can put my money away and then walk away. It makes the whole process take 5 or 10 more seconds, which between thousands of customers each day, adds up to quite a bit. This is NOT efficient.

Seriously. Walgreens does this every single time. Every time. ARGH. Cala does it, too. I actually sometimes have to calm myself down before it happens so I don't get upset.

Ridiculous, I know. But true. God help me.

Whuh whuh whuh whuh whuh

I have a new favorite song. It's featured in this video made by someone whose job I need to have.



Favorite lyrics?
"Teach me tiger
how to tease you
whuh whuh whuh whuuhh whuh"

Thank you, Cute Overload. I am thrilled to have this song in my head.
oh yeah.

Book Report: How the World Makes Love

Very good, fast-paced piece of travel/relationship writing. I highly recommend it.

Some favorite parts:

A married Nicaraguan woman explains success

Physical appearance is irrelevant, though it is important to be good in bed.

The author has a realization

Love is the only belief on which the world agrees. Meters or feet, coffee or tea, Buddha or Allah, futbol or football, cars on the left or right--our planet cannot come to a consensus on anything. Except love.

The world believes deeply in love. Deeply. Ardently. With a shy smile and an instant nod, people around the globe say it exists in all of us. It can thrive. Sure, they have a hard time describing it, let alone capturing it, but it's there. They know it. From closed societies or Western worlds, in bodies wrinkled or smooth, with preferences for the apposite sex or the same, with pockets well stocked or barren, the world sings the same love song. The practices vary, but the passions remain identical.

A young Nicaraguan woman talking about love

Nica men think love is an empty space you need to fill. For me, love is if I am happy and you are happy, we can share. But if you are not happy, you can share nothing.

When I had sex with the fireman, it was not love. Just I needed a hug. But love doesn't leave in the morning.

Go read it for yourself: How the World Makes Love, Franz Wisner

Receiving

In this holiday time of thinking about giving, I want to focus on receiving.

Well, it's not so much that I want to, but that the world seems to be telling me that I should. It started a month or so back and sped up a couple of weeks ago with a series of events that have just kept going.

1. I had been looking for a table to fit into my teensy apartment for awhile, but I didn't want to pay more than necessary. A friend just happened to be getting rid of a table that matched perfectly, and now I have a gorgeous table and 2 beautiful chairs that actually work in my place!

2. My sister sent me an incredibly beautiful gift of fall leaves from home just to make me smile.

And then, all in one night:
3. I went out to dinner with a friend. We both were thinking about ordering the goat cheese fondue app, but were refraining. Our server comes to take our order and lets us know that we'll be receiving a free fondue because of the wait (we hadn't really waited that long, we hadn't complained, and we definitely hadn't mentioned the app).

4. We get to our movie, and someone has left an extra ticket at the window. The ticket lady decides I should have it. :)

5. At a bar later that night, a man steps on my foot. I jokingly say "ow" loudly, and he offers to buy me a drink. Despite my protests and his obvious lack of attraction to women, he buys me an uber expensive whiskey martini.

The next morning:
6. I wake up starving but not wanting to leave the house just yet. I was surprised by a yummy mission burrito in my fridge. Best feeling ever when you've forgotten that you brought home food the night before.

7. Found a $20 on the sidewalk.

8. I'm trying to name a business, and just as I was getting really frustrated, one of my classes had a naming expert as a guest speaker. The professor actually arranged for me to spend some time talking with him during class. Incredible.

So now, I'm just trying be open to receiving the things the world wants to throw my way. I think maybe that's something we don't do very often - especially those of us who tend to be giving and/or tend to take action to get what we want. I just don't want to miss out on something because I was so focused on working to get something else.

Bad Sex in Fiction Awards

oh. my.

The Literary Review's Bad Sex in Fiction Awards are out, and they are certainly worth reading.

This year's winner is Jonathan Littell, for The Kindly Ones.

The winning passage:

Her vulva was opposite my face. The small lips protruded slightly from the pale, domed flesh. This sex was watching at me, spying on me, like a Gorgon's head, like a motionless Cyclops whose single eye never blinks. Little by little this silent gaze penetrated me to the marrow. My breath sped up and I stretched out my hand to hide it: I no longer saw it, but it still saw me and stripped me bare (whereas I was already naked). If only I could still get hard, I thought, I could use my prick like a stake hardened in the fire, and blind this Polyphemus who made me Nobody. But my cock remained inert, I seemed turned to stone. I stretched out my arm and buried my middle finger into this boundless eye. The hips moved slightly, but that was all. Far from piercing it, I had on the contrary opened it wide, freeing the gaze of the eye still hiding behind it. Then I had an idea: I took out my finger and, dragging myself forward on my forearms, I pushed my forehead against this vulva, pressing my scar against the hole. Now I was the one looking inside, searching the depths of this body with my radiant third eye, as her own single eye irradiated me and we blinded each other mutually: without moving, I came in an immense splash of white light, as she cried out: 'What are you doing, what are you doing?' and I laughed out loud, sperm still gushing in huge spurts from my penis, jubilant, I bit deep into her vulva to swallow it whole, and my eyes finally opened, cleared, and saw everything.

2005's Winner was pretty good, too. Winkler by Giles Coren:

And he came hard in her mouth and his dick jumped around and rattled on her teeth and he blacked out and she took his dick out of her mouth and lifted herself from his face and whipped the pillow away and he gasped and glugged at the air, and he came again so hard that his dick wrenched out of her hand and a shot of it hit him straight in the eye and stung like nothing he'd ever had in there, and he yelled with the pain, but the yell could have been anything, and as she grabbed at his dick, which was leaping around like a shower dropped in an empty bath, she scratched his back deeply with the nails of both hands and he shot three more times, in thick stripes on her chest. Like Zorro.

And a Runner Up from this year, A Dead Hand by Paul Theroux:

'Baby.' She took my head in both hands and guided it downward, between her fragrant thighs. 'Yoni puja - pray, pray at my portal.'
She was holding my head, murmuring 'Pray,' and I did so, beseeching her with my mouth and tongue, my licking a primitive form of language in a simple prayer. It had always worked before, a language she had taught me herself, the warm muffled tongue.

I don't know that I could write anything quite that amusing with any area of seriousness.