I have so much more work to do

Starting something new this weekend. I am addicted to the online quizzes. (They help to fill the down time at work.) Therefore, I have decided that weekends are for quizzes.

I really liked that evil quiz until I found this one.

You Are Somewhat Machiavellian

You're not going to mow over everyone to get ahead... But you're also powerful enough to make things happen for yourself. You understand how the world works, even when it's an ugly place. You just don't get ugly yourself - unless you have to!

How Machiavellian Are You?

And of course on Monday, I will probably fill you in on my weekend.

Speechless

I had planned on posting something else today but changed my mind after Wednesday afternoon. Damn the internet!

Over an eight year span I used to hang out with this guy -- usually when I was between boyfriends. No one could understand why I didn't just date him but I think he wasn't really into commitment. Our arrangement worked just fine. Somehow he magically knew when I had just broken up with some guy and would call to ask me out. The last time I spoke to him was back in 2002, right after I decided to go into teaching. He was recovering from a motorcycle accident.

About a year ago, I realized that I hadn't talked to him in some time and tried to call. I was told he was no longer at that phone number. Seemed kind of strange at the time because I was sure that if he had changed his number, he would have told me. I didn't ask anything more of the person on the other end and hung up.

A few days later it dawned on me that he had probably died, mostly due to his line of work. I kept meaning to search the newspaper archives but would always think of this when I wasn't at a computer. Wednesday afternoon was kind of slow at work so I decided to do the search. It confirmed what I already knew; he died in 2003. He wasn't much older than I.

At least I know that he didn't just move without telling me (like another one of my friends just did recently). It's just kind of weird that the person who I knew I could always count on is no longer around. I guess I'm going to have to find some other guy who will randomly show up at my favorite bars and drag me out when he thinks I've had too many cocktails.

Blowing off steam

I wrote this post shortly after getting rid of the hideous boy. I don't know why I never got around to posting it. Anyway, here goes...

I know. I am supposed to be the party girl. I shouldn't let people get to me. I do. I was just programmed by my Southern mother to not speak up all of the time when I am truly pissed. That means that I keep some stuff in and let it fester. Here's my chance to get stuff off of my chest by listing things that piss me off:

1. Presumptuous men -- like that one I just got rid of. Remember that old saying about making assumptions? That's all I have to say.

2. OK. So this is about to become a list of all the things I did not like about the boy. But asking questions for the sake of asking? If it is not an intelligent question, keep your mouth shut. The boy liked to ask completely inane questions at restaurants and bars. If there is an explanation in the menu, don't you think you should read that first before asking? Maybe it's like asking for directions.

3. Let's keep harping on the boy, Yes, I am a partygirl. I know a lot of people who do a lot of drugs. I don't date them. I am the queen of compartmentalizing folks. Drugs are never allowed into my dating compartment though.

4. Lack of commitment/planning. OK. So maybe these should be two separate topics. The first has nothing to do with dating. It's all about making decisions and sticking to them. Even more important than sticking to them, it's about following through. The second is that sometimes one has to make plans. Using the boy as an example, he decided that he would impress me by making plans for dinner and a concert. It would have been really impressive if he had thought to make reservations at the restaurant. If a restaurant is on the Chronicle's list of the top 100 in the Bay Area, anyone with half a brain would realize that they should call the restaurant to check on the reservation policy. Once more, perhaps that is like asking for directions.

5. Not knowing where the hell you are going. ASK FOR DIRECTIONS!

6. An inability to recognize the empress that I am. If I tell you to do something, it is a royal command and should be followed. Disregard me at your own peril.

Now that I've gotten these things off of my chest, I am feeling much better. And you? Like I really care how you feel.

Maybe next time, Dagny

So I tabulated the votes and the dusty rose won out over the blue. Sorry, Dagny. (No, I am not talking to myself. I am talking to Sillypants's daughter.) I paid for the rush delivery because I really need to start showing up to SnB and soon. Isn't it pretty?



Since this will eventually be a cardigan, I will be sure to post photos as the it develops. I'm using this cool Debbie Bliss pattern. I just love her books.

In other news, I received a phone call on Thursday night from some boy. I think I met him around three weeks ago. I have this thing about boys and phone calls. If they cannot call me within two weeks of our meeting, then I just can't remember them. The way I figure it is if he can't pick up the phone within that two week window then either (1) he wasn't that interested, or (2) he's too busy for me. Then again maybe I will call since he's a bit persistent -- called again on Saturday night.

And now I am officially the worst daughter ever. I was supposed to take my mother to the airport on Sunday. Notice my use of the word "supposed." Well, I overslept because I am so not a morning person. My mother knows this. OK, and I did go out on Saturday night. I should have known that things were going to go downhill quickly after I had that shot of Jameson's. (Well, I had to have the shot because the guy who was paying for it just didn't believe that a girl could handle Jameson's.) I would have been OK but then I ran into this guy who I met on St. Patty's Day and his friends. Their drink of choice was Surfer on Acid. The guy and his girlfriend literally live around the corner from me. By the time I made it home, it was 4:30. I was supposed to be at my mother's house at 7:30. I guess I should just went with the guy and his friend to the friend's house to watch Back to the Future II -- yes, this was at 4:30 a.m. Yes, my mother is majorly pissed off with me. I kind of care, but then I remember how she booked her flight without consulting me. She just assumed that I would be able to take her to the airport. She ended up taking an airport shuttle and had to pay $60. A part of me thought, "Serves her right. I mean gas is 3 something a gallon and she was not offering to pay for my gas. At best she would have paid the bridge toll." I also think it is so wrong to make someone take you to the airport at that hour. I never would have done that to her. I guess it's like my aunt was telling me this past week. "Mothers are put on this earth to torture you."

I almost forgot. Happy birthday to Daniel.

Unsafe at any speed

I debated about whether I really wanted to post this but what the hell. Yes, I have these wild tendencies. Most of the time I manage to keep them under control. Then there are the other times.

There's a part of me that knows that once more I should slow up on the partying. I partially blame my job though. My current job? I could do it in a coma. Work has always been my deterrent to partying but if I don't need any brain cells to complete my job, where's the deterrent?

My college roommate was the one who said that I was on sabbatical previously. Now that I am back at work, the partygirl lifestyle should stop. I explained to her on Wednesday night that I was no longer a professional partier. Then again my job doesn't require much brain power. Therefore, I am now a semipro. That means that instead of heading out four to five nights per week, I now limit myself to two to three nights -- and yes, at least one of those nights is a school night.

I was late to work Easter Monday because I was out partying. What I failed to mention was that when I awoke, there was some strange guy sleeping on my living room floor. Don't ask me from where he came. So I got ready for work and then woke him up. As the day progressed, I thought more and more about it. He had a kind of street kid look about him. I figured that was the end of it.

On Wednesday I went out to lunch with a coworker. On our way back to work, I saw the boy -- wearing the same outfit he had on when I discovered him on my floor on Monday morning. So -- definitely a street kid.

Now don't get me wrong. This is not the first time I've taken in a street kid. The first time was when I met one in a bar in North Beach one Friday night. The guy was a recovering heroin addict and had no place to stay. It was 30 degrees outside that night -- too damn cold for anyone to be sleeping on the street. I took him home and fed him. We also talked a lot, mostly because he needed someone's voice to lull him to sleep. He was from Savannah originally and knew my aunt's sister. By Saturday night he had gotten in touch with his mother. The last time I saw him was when I dropped him off at a Western Union location in downtown San Francisco; his mother had wired money there for him.

So I'm 62% evil. I need to be. I'd be an absolute pushover otherwise. The evil stops me from being too trusting. I know. You could easily argue that in both cases I was way too trusting. It's just that usually my gut tells me when the story is OK. It hasn't been wrong ever. When I was a kid, I wanted to bring every stray animal home. It's kind of the same thing.

Usually when I start to think that my life is spinning out of control it's because I've done something like this. I think to myself after, "Have you completely lost your mind?" Then there's other part of me that thinks that this is what you're supposed to do. I mean, they're people after all.

Now on a completely different note -- things are going OK with my aunt. She came home from the hospital on Tuesday. Now we're just trying to figure out foods that she can eat that are actually tasty. If you know of anything that doesn't have any of the following in it, then please feel free to email me recipes: apple skins, celery, Chinese vegetables, coconut, coleslaw, corn, dried fruit, grapefruit, meat with casings, nuts, orange rinds, popcorn, potato skins, raisins, seeds, beans, cucumbers, dairy products, mushrooms, broccoli, brussel sprouts, cabbage, cauliflower, onions, asparagus, and eggs. Daunting list, isn't it?

Speaking of food, here's yesterday's lunch.



One of my fave childhood memories was going to Top Dog with my dad. I have been eating out way too much this week and needed to cut back a bit on the spending. Suddenly I knew just where I needed to head. Oh, and Gloria, if you haven't been there on your trips to the Bay Area, you really must go.

"I'm a dancer."

So I have been sitting around reminiscing once more. Years ago I used to hang out with this group of guys in the Castro. I called them "The Boys." We spent every Sunday afternoon in the Castro. This was back in the days that I was wild and out of control. (Now I'm just wild. OK. So maybe recently I have started showing signs of heading toward out of control as well but I swear I have it under control again.) I got to know The Boys through this one guy, a friend of Emerald's. We ended up having a huge falling out -- I got tired of buying drinks for guys he was trying to pick up -- and so ended my days with The Boys. Recently I have started mending fences with this guy because I miss the fun and crazy times.

We used to go to Tahoe for a weekend every winter. The last time we went is now called the Showgirls weekend. We lost quickly at the tables so there was nothing left to do but to drink and to dance. We showed up at Faces, the gay bar in Tahoe, as soon as it opened that evening. I think it was around 5 and we had already been drinking for at least four hours. The DJ had not started so we loaded up the jukebox, after befriending Dyke the friendly bartender (I kid you not. That was his name.), and hit the dancefloor. Why was there a pole in the middle of the dancefloor? Just wrong. All wrong. Now whenever any of us sees a pole, there is a snicker. I got us back into San Francisco that Sunday (Now that I think about it, it was Mother's Day.) in time so that we could hit our usual places in the Castro. The bar had poles on it. Two of my friends picked me up and tried to put me on the bar.

Another Sunday in the same bar the guys kept grabbing my butt, telling me that I had a cute butt. When one guy grabbed me, he said, "Those feel like nice underwear. I'll give you $100 for them." (Yes, this is a prime example of the kind of freaks I attract. I mean, "Hello. I'm in a gay bar and I'm a woman.") Everyone now tells me that I should have taken the money. I would have but my dress was kind of short and I needed to walk uphill to get to my car.

As I remember those days, I start wondering if it is really wise to start up with these guys again. Eh. You only have one life.

Escape Route

After the stress of the past week, I decided that a little escapism was in order.

It started on Friday night. My mom wanted to see Take the Lead. It was OK. My mom said that she liked Mad Hot Ballroom much more.

Saturday, after lounging and a little cleaning, I headed into San Francisco with Emerald. The plan? To see Thomas Dolby. Actually I had planned this outing at least a month ago. It was a great show. The opening bands -- Genie and Loop!Station -- were interesting as well. The show ended around 12:30 which kind of killed my idea of heading out in Berkeley. After the 30 minute drive, I realized that (1) I needed to go to the bathroom, and (2) I was hungry. Now I could have taken care of the first thing if I headed out but none of the places I was thinking of heading to were still serving food. That meant home. A shame. I had wanted to check out the Brazilian scene at the Lucre Lounge.

Sunday was more bonding time with mom. (My dad wanted me to join him in visiting with his sisters but I figured he needed that quality time alone.) She's got this thing for salsa dancing. The thing is that most of the clubs are in San Francisco. I think my mom's feelings about driving and parking in San Francisco are similar to Gloria's. This means that my mom does a lot of begging and pleading and making offers to pay my cover. Sometimes I give in -- like on Sunday. We headed to Jelly's for their Sunday afternoon party, "Club Havana." I swore that I was not going to dance. Then they played a merengue and my mom's friend dragged me onto the dance floor. His comment to my mom when we got back to the table was, "You didn't tell me that your daughter was DR."

I got home around 8:30 and of course felt that it all couldn't end there so I headed to Lucre for their soul night. Met a guy who had been at Jelly's earlier in the evening. I was bummed that the cute manager wasn't there. That meant that I had to pay for my drinks -- well most of them. Funny that I'm down for women's rights until it comes time to pay for my drinks.

I forgot to set my alarm so I was late for work -- like they would ever notice. I sit at my desk for eight hours doing stuff that really only takes me four hours. Someone shoot me now -- please.

There are times you just want to smack men

So if you read my comments on the last post, then you know that they ended up finding cancer after all. Who knows what's next? I do know that the doctors wanted to release my aunt from the hospital. The thing is that she lives alone and needs someone to stay with her. My other aunt is supposed to be flying out from Georgia for this purpose and she needs a week to get the 7-day fare.

Where do the men enter this story, you ask? Well, through this whole week my dad and one of his brothers have been gallavanting around Vegas. Their sister is sick and they are both retired. The only other relatives here in California all have to work and do not have any time off available. Just seems to us that my dad and uncle would be the best choices to take care of my aunt until my other aunt arrives. Like that will ever happen. For a brief moment there, I was starting to feel homicidal again.

On that note, I am glad to see that my plans for global domination are not contrary to my personality.

You Are 62% Evil

You are very evil. And you're too evil to care. Those who love you probably also fear you. A lot.

How Evil Are You?

My mother has always recognized my potential for evil but I think my dad is clueless in that area. And Gloria, I guess you were right all those years ago when you said I was evil. (By the way, I still have that wav.)

Not all lawyers suck

So this week started off pretty sucky but then I went to see my aunt and got the
great news -- no cancer! Through this all I have been going into work and trying to hold it together.

Tuesday was the kick-off for the write-on competition. (I think that Jen has finally figured out where I work.) They had t-shirts made for the occasion. The students had to pay for theirs; I got mine for free because apparently the vendor had sent over a dozen women's small for free. The kick-off involved pizza from Cheese Board, beer, and sangria. (Have I mentioned how much I love this job?) One of the students came up to my desk to tell me about the pizza. She then offered to bring me some back. (I was busy formatting an article.) Isn't that sweet? They are all so nice. It's going to be hard leaving -- and I am going to leave one day because frankly the job bores me to tears most days.

Oh, and here's some photos for you.


The ginormous lemon.


The creek on my way to work when it is dry...


And when it's raining.


And finally, one of my fave buildings on campus. Why? Because it is rare to see brick in California.

Oops. Not so final. I have one more question. I want to start a new sweater but just can't decide. Should I go with this color or this one?

Making lemonade

That's literally and figuratively.

One of the highlights of my weekend, besides cleaning and going to that store yet again, was visiting my aunt. She lives on the Oakland/San Leandro border. One of the things I love about San Leandro is that the houses usually have fruit trees. My aunt's house only has a Meyer lemon tree. On my last few visits there I have always forgotten to inquire about the tree. This time I remembered.

After I came back in from picking lemons, I asked her about the gargantuan specimen I had collected. Her answer was, "Oh. Sometimes they grow bigger than that." (I had planned on including a picture of one the large lemons here but I'm just not in the mood to take photos now.)

I went to visit my aunt because she was not feeling well. Once more she was suffering from abdominal pain. The last time she felt this way, about two years ago, it was ovarian cancer. On my way to work yesterday morning I found out that not only had she been admitted to the hospital on Sunday, but that they also removed her colon. It seems the pain was a result of the tumor in her colon. There was another tumor that they were unable to remove because of how it was attached to organs. I guess we can hope and pray and all of that stuff, but I also know that part of the doctor's concerns over this weekend was her most recent blood work. It showed that there might once more be the presence of cancer. (Her most recent bout was just this past Thanksgiving -- breast cancer.) So I am sitting around, waiting to hear the test results, and hoping for the best. Oh yeah. And I'm going to make some lemonade because that's what she suggested I do with all those lemons I brought home on Saturday. After that, I think it's back to making soups. That's what I've done all the other times she has been sick.

NOTE: When I started writing this post, I was in a much better mood than I am in currently. I alternate between crying and wanting to strangle at least half the world and through it all, I feel very alone.

Roll call

I was sitting here at work and thinking I really should post something. There is only so much online shopping for yarn that one can do. I have this Debbie Bliss pattern that looks great but I can't seem to get myself to commit to a yarn. I also still have about another hour at work. I am with Jen. Can I quit my job? I know I only started three weeks ago but really.

So Sillypants taunted all of her readers to answer the following:

Who's blogroll are you proudest to be on?

Gloria's. I want to be her when I grow up. Seriously.

Who's blogroll do you wish you were on?

I dunno. And as future Empress of the Universe, shouldn't the correct question be, "Who wishes they could be on my blogroll?"

Do you really read all of the sites on your blogroll, or are there any on there for suck-up purposes?

Of course I do. If I stop reading them or they disappear, then they get dropped.

Who's blogroll do you wish you were not on?
Can I take the fifth on this one?

Is your public blogroll your full blogroll, or do you keep a "dirty little secret" roll for private use?

For the most part, it is. The only time someone is not on my blogroll is because I have just discovered their site. If I go back to read a couple of days in a row, then they get added.

How, why , or when do you add a blog to your blogroll?

I think I answered that above.

So if the rest of you feel stuck for a post, well, go for it. Enjoy your weekend. I know I will even though I have a feeling it will involve Ikea once more.

One word

I saw this on Aimee's site and just knew that I had to give it a try.

Describe yourself using only one word.

1. Yourself: Outgoing.
2. Your Lover: Unknown.
3. Your Hair: Bought.
4. Your Mother: Controlling.
5. Your Father: Generous.
6. Your Favorite Item: Journal.
7. Your Dream Last Night: Forgotten.
8. Your Favorite Drink: Tea.
9. Your Dream Home: London.
10. The Room You Are In: Living room.
11. Your Pet(s): Boris and Natasha.
12. Who You Are Now: Searching.
13. Who You Want to be in Ten Years: Committed. (That's to another person, not in an institution.)
14. What You Want to be in Ten Years: Still happy.
15. What You're Not: Dumb.
16. Your Best Friend: Jade.
17. One of Your Wish list Items: Travel.
18. Your Gender: Woman.
19. The Last Thing You Did: Brushed Boris.
20. What You Are Wearing: Embroidered cardigan.
21. Your Favorite Weather: Raining.
22. Your Favorite Book: To Kill a Mockingbird.
23. The Last Thing You Ate: Camembert.
24. Your Life: Unfolding.
25. Your Mood: Serene.

So shoot me if sometimes I used more than one word. I dare you to stick to the rule.

Gracias, Cesar!

What a joy to work somewhere with lots of holidays once more. Friday I was off work for Cesar Chavez Day. (That's a state holiday in California in case you are not aware. Has been for years.) So what to do with myself?

After a few hours at home with the cats, I decided it was time to get out. Well, actually I first decided that it was time to clean. Upon looking around the apartment, I realized that simeple cleaning would not suffice. See there were still those last few pesky boxes sitting around. (Yes, it was over a year ago that I moved and still boxes.) I had run out of storage space but there was this lovely blank space begging for shelving. And then there was the fact that I have been wanting to reconfigure how my cable is hooked up. Well, that obviously meant that a shopping trip was overdue. Besides, my dear friend, Shrew, and my college roommate are due for a visit in about a month. They've never seen this place and I would like for it to be perfect.

The first stop was Target for the cable supplies. On my way to the register, I found these cute pants, a nice rayon blend, that would be perfect for work. And they were $12. I had to buy them.

The next stop was Ikea because they had the shelving unit that I wanted. They also had some dishes that I like. Have I mentioned that the stoneware I have is only a service for four? My other stuff is Mikassa and similar in pattern. They don't make the pattern anymore though. So everything was going well in Ikea until I realized that the Emeryville store did not have the matching bowls. When I got home, I went online to see if I could order them. No. What to do? Then it dawned on me that there is a store in East Palo Alto. No luck there. Ah, but the new store in West Sacramento has opened and apparently has the bowls in stock. Road trip!

I let the cats continue to frolic with the cardboard Saturday morning while I went to the tutoring center. They begged me to come in. So nice to be needed. After that, Sacramento bound.

I was unable to find the bowls in Sacramento. As it turns out, they only had ONE bowl. What a rip. Another thing I have been wanting is a second TV. On my way home, I broke down and bought one. *sigh* I did also find a lot of cute clothes and shoes too. I swear that I have finished shopping. Really. It's just that I go for months without shopping and then I just get a little crazy.