School's out!

Friday was the last day of summer school. Basically it was an all-day party. Therefore, it was only appropriate that I continue the party that evening.

I was supposed to be doing the happy hour scene with Jade and Emerald. Jade ended up being a no show because per usual she had childcare issues. I keep wondering if she's ever heard of a babysitter. So where do you go on a Friday if you are hip and have just gotten off work at Leap Frog, Pixar, or one of those other wonderful companies in Emeryville? Why, Kitty's of course. And Friday evenings Kitty herself mans the turntables.




The view from our booth.

Of course, one of our favorite things about Kitty's is this lovely creation.


Persephone's Bees

Eventually Emerald had to head home to her husband and son. Just as well. It was about time for me to head to Beckett's to meet Grasshopper.

I arrived before Grasshopper did. Nothing new there. I ended up chatting with a group of guys -- two from San Francisco and their friend who was visiting from Boulder. They kept trying to convince me that I should go to San Francisco with them, especially after I did a fairly decent pirate's, "Yar."

Shortly after they left, Grasshopper showed. Then her latest guy showed up. I don't think we'll be seeing him again because I don't think that he can really hang. Well, maybe he could but he just didn't seem to get with the program.


Kinsella -- one of our fave bands.

We lost the new guy sometime after the band started playing. Or maybe it was the four Irish guys who started talking to me and Grasshopper that caused him to suddenly disappear. Yet more men trying to convince us to go to San Francisco. We told them that they'd be back to Berkeley and we'd see them then.

Around this time Grasshopper received a text message. (I may have to keep a scorecard soon to keep up with guys.) I was kind enough to give her a ride. That's when I realized that I was hungry. At 1 a.m. that can only mean one place -- Nation's. Besides I like to torture the cats periodically with the sight and smell of a 3/4 pound cheeseburger. With fries and a shake, of course.

Grasshopper and I agreed that Saturday needed to be mellow. For me that meant lazing around with remote control in hand -- after I woke up at 3 p.m.

Now I'm down to working part-time at the University. And I have money thanks to the school district. I feel some more partying coming on.

Grasshopper-palooza

I can already see that this is going to be a very long weekend. Wednesday night Grasshopper and I headed out to bring a birthday cake to our fave bartender. He appreciated it. Well, I assume he did since he only charged us for a total of two drinks that night.

And then there was yesterday -- Grasshopper's birthday.



I took a photo of this place for the neighborhood post but I decided to get a little closer. Grasshopper is always commenting on the nice smelling stuff I have at my place. I decided that she deserved some nice smelling stuff of her own.

Grasshopper had told the various guys she knows that we would be at the bar 8-ish. We got there around 9. For a change, she looked like Patsy while I looked Eddy. Sorry Gloria and David. No pictures. I did think about it but no one wanted pictures taken. The place is so dark I would have had to use a flash, making it completely obvious.

The guys slowly started trickling in. And then the band showed up. One of our fave bands. The best part is when our fave bartender showed up. He doesn't work on Thursdays but he specifically showed up because it was Grasshopper's birthday. The good part for me was that Travel Writer showed up. He said that he would get in touch with me about going out sometime next week. Woohoo! Oh, and his birthday is next month. I don't think the party is ever going to stop.

Right now I want to slip into a coma. Because yesterday and today? I had to be at work at 8 a.m. With little kids. Do you know how tiring that is? Besides I have to rest up for tonight. First it's happy hour with Emerald and then it's off to the usual place to meet up with Grasshopper. The same band is playing tonight -- and tomorrow as well.

Sometimes I eat crap

This was my lunch today. This is the kind of stuff I have been eating for lunch for the past month. Why? Because I am too lazy to pack a lunch and this stuff is free. I think this explains my binge at Andronico's earlier this week. I have found that I usually do not eat everything on the tray. I do like how the fishsticks are now shaped like fish. Isn't that cute?

Oh, and in case you haven't figured it out, this is a school cafeteria lunch. Mmmmm. Tasty.

Overlapping seasons

I am not ready to declare the end of my birthday season quite yet but there are other birthdays happening now. Why earlier this week I received a giftcard for Macy's from one of my aunts in Virginia. (She is also a strong supporter of the birthday season concept. As her birthday is at the end of November, she typically celebrates up to Christmas Day.) This reminded me that I still had my giftcard for Banana Republic from Jade. I think I will have to go on a shopping excursion into San Francisco soon -- the only place that I can think of in which the two stores are in close proximity of each other.

This past Sunday was my fave bartender's birthday. He doesn't work on Sundays though. Grasshopper and I had meant to go out on Saturday to wish him a happy birthday but the heat was unbearable. Also, Grasshopper was in desperate need to do laundry. Therefore, we're heading out tonight to extend belated greetings. I think I may have to head back to Andronico's as well. We asked him last Friday about his favorite cake flavor. The plan was that we were going to bake one. It's cooler now -- in the 80's -- but baking still is not going to happen. There are perfectly decent cakes in Andronico's bakery.

Tomorrow is the huge day though -- Grasshopper's birthday. She has told all the guys whom she knows that they can meet up with us at our usual spot. We will probably sit at the end of the bar like we usually do. Hmmmm. They really should put nameplates on the bar stools for us at this point. Years ago a family friend had her name on a table at Star's. Just sayin'... Since she is the birthday girl, I figure that she will be the queen and I will be the lady-in-waiting.

The challenge for today is to get a present for Grasshopper. All I know is that it has to be fabulous. Oh! I know now. I'd say but Grasshopper occasionally reads this blog and I don't want to ruin the surprise. (Yes, I trust her enough that I actually let her read this stuff.) Shopping is so much fun.

I'm feeling pretty rested but I'm starting to think that I might just have to take a nap this afternoon. The way I see it, I have three nights of heading out on the ever so close horizon at this point. And Gloria and David, yes, I will take pictures -- if I remember.

Sometimes I should not be allowed to shop

Yesterday I came home for lunch so that I could drop off my car before heading to campus. (The sticker on my car allows me to park for more than two hours in my neighborhood but not near the area of campus to which I was headed.) There was also the bonus of being able to feast on my leftovers from The Dead Fish. (I went there on Sunday for dinner with my dad and his relatives. I made a pig of myself and had the prime rib and crab.) It was unbearably hot in my apartment so I took a peek into one of the cabinets. There was indeed a bottle of rum in there. The plan was that on my way home from work, I would head to Andronico's to pick up some mint, limes, and maybe a little more club soda.

Everything started off according to plan. The club soda was on sale so I picked up a few bottles. One can never have too much club soda. Then I decided to head over to the deli section when I remembered that you can now get prepackaged containers of their curried chicken salad. I almost made it to the checkout with just these items.


The cheese case at Andronico's

Suddenly I remembered that this was one of my favorite comfort foods. I deserved some comfort foods after this past week. I hadn't had the crack cheese in some time so yes, I deserved some of that as well. Next thought? Well there is that fabulous duck liver truffle pate in the deli. I managed to have some willpower in the bakery section by reminding myself that I already had two pints of Haagen Dazs in the freezer. I thought I was done picking up items until I remembered yet another favorite in the cheese section -- Double Devon Cream. That stuff is pure heaven. But what to put it on? Easy. Back to the bakery section to pick up the yummy scones from Sconehenge. With that I was out of the store -- finally.

The chicken salad is gone and I am working my way through the cheese and pate. The scones and cream might actually last through the week. All I know is that I am quite happy now -- and have shut the carry-on.

The opening of the carry-on

We all like to talk about the baggage that we carry around. Everyone says that it's preferable to keep in down to a single carry-on. I prefer to travel that way. That way you don't have to worry if the airline has lost your bag. (Thank you, United.) So sometimes you have to struggle to close the bag but you get it closed eventually.

I have started to think that it's not the number of bags but your ability to keep them closed that makes the difference. You can fill a suitcase with a bunch of stuff and stick in the back of the closet and just forget about it all. It's all still there but it's not part of your daily life. Then something happens and the bag opens. Sometimes it's a sudden explosion. Sometimes it opens slowly, so slowly that you're not even aware that it's opening. Either way around the stuff starts coming out of the bag.

This past week was definitely a strange one. (See yesterday's post.) By Saturday night, I had to acknowledge that the bag had opened. With it came the painful walk down memory lane. My first thought was to shove everything back in and close it quickly. The thing is that I've done that before. That time I ended up with severe anxiety attacks for two months before I crashed and burned -- a result of the stuff in the bag and sleep deprivation. Oh yeah. And I wasn't really eating because I was getting most of my calories in a liquid form. It was the only way that I could sleep through the night. (I was waking up every night about once every two hours, freaking out over whether I had remembered to lock the front door.) Remembering that dark phase of my life made me decide to let the bag stay open for a few days and go through the items that fell out before putting them back.

I noticed a theme to the stuff that came out. They were all memories in which I didn't feel safe. The first one that came to mind was an incident from when I was around nine. I had been playing at the house of a girl whom my friend knew. We had made a mess and needed to clean up. The girl who lived in the house told me to run in and to get some towels. Her older brother handed me the towels and then shoved back onto a bed. I remember hitting him and telling him to get off of me. He did and said, "Don't tell anyone about this. I'm just trying to make sure that my sister is hanging out with the right type of girls." I didn't tell anyone for almost 20 years. Maybe this explains my preference for baggy jeans and sweaters by the time I hit high school.

There were a bunch of other more recent ones too. The most recent of these took place in San Francisco. My job at the time required that I become a notary public. I had driven into San Francisco to take the test one morning. On my way back to the office, I realized that I had no cash so I decided to stop at a branch of my bank in Noe Valley. It was around 11 a.m. I parked my car on Elizabeth Street and walked down to 24th. After getting money from the bank, I ran across the street to get a chai latte from Starbuck's. As I was walking down Elizabeth, three guys came walking down the street towards me. I had my Starbuck's in one hand and my keys in the other. One of the guys asked me if I had a cigarette as they got near me. I told him that I didn't because I knew that that would have meant reaching into my purse. His response? "Well, in that case why don't you give us your wallet?" In what was probably just a couple of seconds, I realized that there was no one else on the street except for us. There was a busy street with lots of people about a half block behind me. I was not that far from my car but they were between me and it. I had visions of them not being happy with just the contents of my wallet. I had visions of being forced into my car, driven all around town to withdraw money, and being dumped somewhere. I took a step backwards and yelled, "Fuck you!" I then turned on heel and ran like hell for the busy street. Once there I pulled out my cellphone and called the cops. When the police officer showed up, I asked him to drive me back to my car. When I got to work, I told my coworkers what happened and then began to sob.

The first time that I went out by myself after that last incident, I was absolutely terrified. I don't know how I got through the evening but I did. And I was safe. I had to prove to myself that life wasn't filled with things that go bump in the night and people who are out to hurt you. If it is, then why bother getting out of bed?

Now I have to repack the bag because I can't walk through life like this. Well, I guess I could but then I'd be like my mother -- who will never hear the story of this past week if I can help it. None of my family will. Because I know their reaction will be for me to change everything about my life. Well, maybe not my aunt who has cancer. She would say that that kind of behavior would be allowing myself to be a victim. And I'm not. And besides it kind of freaks out the cats to see me cry.

So Sunday I vowed to go out again after having dinner with my family. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to close the bag again. Well, maybe I could but if I let it stay open too long, then I was going to need some help with the closing. I did make one change though. I drove. I'm not sure if I'm up for walking at night just yet. It's all about baby steps right now but I'm not stopping. I mean, it's still my birthday season. I'm not going to let someone else take that away from me.

Taking names

I know that I normally don't post on Sundays but this one couldn't wait. Sometimes there's stuff that you just have to get out of your system so that you can move on.

Little did I know what would be in store for me this month when I read my Hor-O-Scope. So I can be a bit intrusive but does that mean that giving up that behavior should turn me into prey?

Friday night I got myself dressed up and headed to the usual place to meet up with Grasshopper. She was at a movie and wouldn't get there until later. I ended up at the upstairs bar because that's where my fave bartender was working. I eventually went out to have a cigarette and who do I run into? Yep. You guessed it. Stalker Guy!

Stalker Guy: Hi. How are you?

Me: Ummm. Hi.

Stalker Guy: When you gave me your phone number you didn't think that I would actually call, did you?

Me: Ummm. I'm not sure.

Around this time I was wishing for one of those cigarettes that Janeane Garoflo's character invented.

Stalker Guy: Well, I was really flattered when you gave it to me.

Me: Ummmm. Thanks.

At this point, I decided that I really did not need the nicotine. I quickly put out the cigarette and went back into the comfort of the bar. I also promptly ordered another cocktail. I then sent a text message to Grasshopper to let her know that the creep had returned.

My bartender introduced me to the guy sitting next to me at the bar who as it turns out is a law student. He asked me about my day. I told him about Stalker Guy. As if on cue, Stalker Guy came strolling past. Once he spotted me, he took up a position within view.

Law Student: The guy who just walked by is the guy you were talking about, isn't he?

Me: Yep. He's pretty creepy.

Law Student: He lives in my building. You're right about the creepy. He gives me a weird feeling. When he walked by, I was happy that you were sitting here. It thought that he was going to come up to me to talk. It's not you. The guy is just weird.

See? This guy creeps out other guys. We discussed Stalker Guy some more and then started talking about living in California and law school. During all of this, Stalker Guy kept hovering. I got up to go to the bathroom. While I was waiting in line outside the door, Stalker Guy passed by as if he was checking to see where I was. When I returned to the bar, I shared this tidbit. I started debating whether I should say something to the staff. Then Grasshopper showed up. I caught her up on everything and she decided that enough was enough. Since I had his phone number, she sent him a text message. "Leave my friend alone." Our bartender told us to not mess with the creepy guy. We laughed. Grasshopper went out for a cigarette. Law Student was going downstairs to meet up with his friend but he was going to wait for me so that I would not be alone.

I went out only to find Grasshopper having it out with Stalker Guy. As I slipped past, I heard her say, "Sociopath." Neither one of them saw me so I slipped over to the stairs with my cig and cocktail. I was able to watch everything perfectly from there through the safety of the railing. I also explained what was going on to the guy sitting near me. This guy's older brother walked over and wouldn't you know it? I had met this guy previously when I had had the brilliant idea to head out the night before my birthday. We heard Grasshopper threatening to have Stalker Guy banned from the bar. Not an empty threat. We have that kind of power. Then Grasshopper walked back into the bar. By then Stalker Guy had spotted me and came over to apologize. I told him to go away. He did. Hopefully I will never see him again.

Once Grasshopper returned, the guys on the stairs and I shared another story with her. I had last seen the older brother on Sunday night when I was walking home. Paramedic Boy had volunteered to walk part of the way with me. Older Brother said that he came up to me that night because he had been behind us and had realized that there was someone following us. Say what??? Around the time that he came over to talk, Paramedic Boy got a call on his cellphone. It was his friend who was back at the bar asking where he was. I told him to go and rejoin his friend. Obviously I made it home in one piece. So back to the guy following us. By Older Brother's description, the guy was Paramedic Boy's friend. You know. The one who was supposedly back at the bar. Now I am completely freaked out. I also wish that Paramedic Boy would call. I so want to rip him a new one at this point.

I toyed with the idea of going out on last night but I just couldn't seem to get motivated. Part of it was the heat. Part of it was the nervousness, the fear. I didn't want to admit the last part. But I've made a vow to go out tonight because I refuse to let the fear rule my life. And I'm going back to stalking and snooping and all that other stuff. Because it sucks to be on the other side of it.

Female Literary Character

Tami ran this one some time ago.

Which Classic Female Literary Character Are you?

You're Elizabeth Bennett of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen!
Take this quiz!








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Will I need a liver transplant?

Grasshopper is still around in case you didn't read my comments on the previous post. Wednesday evening she called me from work to ask if she could drop by. (I live a few blocks from her current job.) I told her that would be no problem but that I was also in the process of changing clothes to head out. We watched some TV and chatted about her date on Monday. She also played with the cats. Especially Boris. He, of course, showed up to beg when Grasshopper pulled out the chips and guacamole. I explained to her that Boris is a stoner cat and perpetually has the munchies. Or maybe he has a tapeworm? Whatever it is, all I know is that the minute you put something in your mouth, there he is begging for a sample. You would have thought that the Chinese hot mustard incident would have cured him of this. Then again he was back begging 15 minutes later then (and received the same treatment).

Naturally we headed to our bar. I mean it was Wednesday. Our favorite bartender works on Wednesdays (and Fridays and Saturdays). Our highlight was when we overheard him say to a couple of other women, "Just let me know if there is anything else I can do for you." We laughed hysterically, proclaiming that he would never be stupid enough to say that to us. Grasshopper has already written the list of the things he can do for her. I keep mine in my head because I occasionally need to change the priority of things.

Grasshopper has this way of meeting guys on HellSpace as well. One of them started texting her while we were sipping on our first drinks. He eventually showed up. He was OK but we had issue with the fact that he could not see going to a pub as being a part of someone's culture. Confused lad. At least he kind of made up for the fact that there was no entertainment that night. I really wish they would hurry up and hire a new manager. Oh, and their website changes? So not happy with them.

After her second pint, Grasshopper had to say goodbye. She was in need of Midol and was opening at work on Thursday. It had been my intention to leave shortly after she did. Then I got to talking to the bartender. He was having a slideshow of his recent trip to China once things slowed down in the bar. The way things were going in there on Wednesday, that was going to be around 2 a.m. This would have been fine if I was going to work at my office job in the morning, but not for going to a school. Fortunately there will be a repeat of the show on Friday and/or Saturday nights.

At this point, I knew I really needed to go. (It was nearing midnight.) Then this guy walked up to me. He had looked vaguely familiar when he walked in. As soon as he started talking, I suddenly remembered. He was one of the two guys who had walked me home when I was out and about on New Year's Day. (Hmmmm. Why was that post title about my liver as well? I'm starting to see a pattern here.) Actually it was more like I forced them to do a imitation of The Wizard of Oz down the street. Because that's what drunk people should do. Re-enact movies in public.

So Mr. Travel Writer and I started slowly remembering various tidbits about each other over cocktails. Then our glasses were empty and he insisted on buying another. Around this time I told him about the pain in my shoulder. (Yes, it was still lingering. I no longer had need for flexeril but it was still a bit annoying.) The dear man was able to get rid of the pain for me. It was at that point that I started thinking that this could be the start of something great. Then again I had had quite a few cocktails by that time so lots of things were sounding great. The other thought that crossed my mind was that in wishing that I'd her from Paramedic Boy, the universe decided to send me something possibly better. I must try this more often. Thursday morning I remembered that I actually had his email address from our previous meeting. I also discovered that he had written about going out for drinks sometime but there was no follow-up from him. Or maybe there was. This was close to the time when I met Musician Boy. Anywho I wrote to him to say thanks for fixing my shoulder. Maybe I'll actually get a date out of it all this time.

Thursday was a bit rough at work. When I got home, I had planned on taking a quick nap but then Grasshopper called. She had only seen the first episode of Hex and I have them all saved. We ordered enough Chinese food to feed ten or so people and settled in for a marathon. We actually watched something like six episodes of the show. Now she's all caught up. We also laughed about all the things our bartender should never say to us. "I'll do anything you say." There were also a lot of comments about how hot Azazeal on Hex is. World destruction? Who cares if you could have him?

As I said before, tonight I'm off to the usual place. I think Grasshopper has a date but she said that she would eventually make it to the pub. I just hope I don't get myself into too much trouble before she arrives. Hmmm. I haven't danced on a bar or table in a few years... It's going to be a long night what with the slideshow and all.

Maneuvering friendship

I think I may have gotten soft with age. What else could explain how I was foolish enough to give my phone number to Stalker Guy? He called last night to see if I wanted to go out with him sometime. Ummmm ... NO! Actually I told him that I'd have to think about it and I'd call him back. Eh. I take it back. I'm not actually getting soft per se. I've always had a great dislike of conflict. If I can avoid it, then all the better. Maybe it comes from having to hear my parents scream at each other for so many years. Back then I'd head to my room and turn up the volume on either the TV or the stereo to drown out their voices. I also attribute this recent change to Grasshopper. She is much more comfortable being the "bad cop" than I am. She is still chastising me for not letting her properly handle Stalker Guy. I should have.

Grasshopper is much better at this whole dating thing than I am. She, of course, had a fabulous date on Monday night. The bad thing is that every now and then I catch myself telling myself that this is a really good thing. And it is. It really is.

Part of our bond is that neither of us has a great number of female friends. We both have a distrust of women and tend to spend time around men. I think her experiences have been mostly catty women. Mine have been the catty ones as well as those who were using me because I got invited to places that they didn't. Then there's that other part for me. There are the other ones who once a man enters their lives look at me as the option for if they don't have anything better to do with their time. Jade can be one of these types at times. I don't know if she even realizes that she does it.

So I've been going along nicely all these years going out on my own and all. Then I get this friend and now, if old patterns hold true, this friend may be disappearing. If that does happen, I'll get over it. I've gotten over worse.

Coming to you live

Sorry for my lack of posting and blog reading lately. Summer school ends in a couple of weeks and I should be much better then.

On Saturday I was looking through photos because I was afraid. I have this way of starting to take photos after a few cocktails. What I discovered were these taken last weekend after the World Cup viewing.







Grasshopper and I met up with one of her friends because they wanted burgers. (Yes, Gloria. Once more I forgot to take photos of the fantastic burgers.) We then headed down the street for some gelato. I had chai and saffron -- mmmmmm. Then we headed up the hill to the Rose Garden. I haven't been up there since I was a kid. I must remember to head up there more often.

So fast forward to the weekend that just passed. I managed to not go out the entire week. Mistake. That meant by Friday I was feeling a bit out of control. Screw this pacing myself crap. I arrived before Grasshopper (I live closer) so I kind of butted my way into this conversation that these two guys next to me at the bar were having. Another mistake. The basic gist was that they were comparing reading computer code to reading poetry. I guess that tells you how desperate I was for conversation. Shortly after Grasshopper arrived, the cooler of the two guys left. That left us with Stalker Guy. He kept staring at me and following me around. When I went to the bathroom, Grasshopper said he almost had a nervous breakdown.

I'm getting ahead of myself though. When Grasshopper walked in, I suddenly realized who we were. I had chosen to wear a mock turtleneck with a fitted cardigan and skirt. Oh yeah, and the sandals with the three-inch heels. (I couldn't do the four-inch ones because I had a seven block walk each way.) Grasshopper came in wearing a kind of Berkeley earthy, bohemian look.


Yes, I got her permission to post this.

I turned to her and said, "I know who we are. We're Patsy and Edina." For years my friends have been trying to call me "Patsy" and I have tried to deny it. I have decided to stop denying it. Oh, and I took the quiz on the site as well. Apparently I am truly Patsy.

"Bolly darling? You are Patsy Stone. A sloshed Sixties relic. Your heart belongs to all night parties, free booze and perhaps something a little more illegal. You've lived a wild life and it has taken its toll. You have a tendency to be catty, jealous and rude to anyone who doesn't meet your standards of high fashion. Despite your shortcomings no-one could deny that you love your best friend. Cheers!"

Now the real fun is that I have never had an Eddy in my life. Plenty of other Patsys but never an Eddy. This could be fun. Or maybe I'll end up in a foreign prison.

With that settled, we then proclaimed to everyone around that we were the stars of our own TV show. "Coming to you live from Beckett's, it's The Dagny and Grasshopper Show." Trust me. It sounds much catchier with our real names. We had everyone saying it. Grasshopper was also quick to remind folks that because it was our show, we could have them thrown out if they irritated us.

So I, Patsy, continued to down cocktails while Eddy was busy working the room. By the end of the night she had at least two dates lined up.


She didn't remember that I took this photo as well on Friday but the guy did.

Saturday I rolled out of bed around 1 p.m. feeling quite refreshed. Well not quite. I was a wee bit dehydrated but half a bottle of white grape juice took care of that problem. I did think about heading out but it just wasn't going to be the same doing this alone. (Grasshopper had a date.) Oh, and USA was having an all Johnny Depp afternoon/evening. No brainer there.

I did manage to do some productive things, like vacuuming and laundry. The vacuuming happened first.


Natasha was kind enough to remind me about the laundry situation when she went to hide from the vacuum.

Because I kind of lied on the first quiz on Saturday. I did not describe the underwear I was wearing because I was down to the emergency ones. I think that's why I wasn't really trying to talk to any guys on Friday night either. It's hard to feel appealing when you know you're wearing the granny panties.

Sunday afternoon came and I had clean clothes and was feeling restless. That meant only one thing. I headed up to Telegraph to go to Zebra. (The principal with whom I'm working this summer recommended them.) You'll have to guess what I had done. Next I have to work up the nerve to get a tattoo. (No, I am so not having a midlife crisis. I've been thinking about doing this for years. I just never had the nerve to follow through.)

The piercing itself didn't really hurt. It was the after effects. Pain like that meant only one thing. I quickly headed to Beckett's. And of course I already knew that Grasshopper was on her way there as well. While waiting for her, I struck up a conversation with a very cute Czech boy. He left shortly after Grasshopper arrived. Then the man (No, he is not a boy. At least as far as we can tell.) from Friday night showed up.


They didn't know that I planned to post this one as well.

I started feeling like a third wheel. Besides it was way past dinnertime for B&N. Luckily we all decided to leave at the same time. They headed off in the opposite direction of me. I got one block away from the bar and realized that I had forgotten the bag containing the cleaning solution for my piercing though. So I headed back. And was greeted by one of the boys who had been sitting next to us at the bar -- Paramedic Boy. He said he realized that I had left the bag and was going to come looking for me. He also had peeked into the bag and wanted to know what I had pierced. So I showed him. About an hour of conversation ensued after that. He has my number and swears that he is going to call. We'll see about that.

The most important thing I learned this weekend is the first rule of the Dags and Grasshopper Show. "Never date a man who cannot dance." Grasshopper shared this theory with me the previous weekend. During the following week, I realized that every guy with whom I have gone out this year cannot dance. Now Stalker Guy definitely falls into this category. Watching him try to dance on Friday was one of the most painful experiences of my life. I had already decided that the guy creeped me out before the dancing though. Grasshopper's theory is that if a man has no rhythm on the dancefloor, then how can you expect him to have rhythm elsewhere? Also guys who dance? They probably ask you on real dates.

*sigh* Life is good when you have a partner in crime.

It's a twofer

At first I was going to forego the weekend quiz post to actually write something. Then I remembered that the weekend is still young -- and I still need to rehydrate.

I vaguely remember a post about what type of underwear Neil should purchase. I wished I had known about these quizzes back then. I would have sent him the links.

What Your Underwear Says About You

When you're bad, you're very bad. And when you're good, you're still trouble! You're comfortable in your own skin - and don't care to impress anyone.

The Underwear Oracle

Your Lucky Underwear Is Red

You're confident and bold, and your lucky red underwear will only make you more sure of yourself. You have a great zest for life, and you tend to take on impossible goals - and succeed. When it comes to love, it's hard for you to take the time to open up. You're too busy conquering the world. So if you're looking for a little more romance, put on your red underpants. And see where their passion takes you!

What Color Is Your Lucky Underwear?

Then again, maybe Neil will be inspired to go out shopping once more.

Forgotten conversation

I have been very good so far and have not gone out since Sunday. So the muscle spasms in my back have kind of slowed me down but I hope to be back in shape by Friday. This is all thanks to my wonderful friend, Flexeril. Of course, it does make it difficult to stay awake in the daytime. Then again it is well worth it because the throbbing pain has stopped.

After my last post, I realized that I had left out a conversation I had wanted to share. As I mentioned, on Sunday I went to Beckett's to catch the second half of the World Cup finals. (I would have watched the first half there as well but I had difficulty getting motivated.) During the game, I was speaking to this Irish couple and their new friend. The friend was rather fascinating. After they left, Grasshopper and I had to do a recap of the afternoon.

Grasshopper: What were you talking to that guy about?

Me: His love of cooking Indian food. Also, he is apparently an undergrad. He kept talking about his fraternity.

Grasshopper: Do his frat brothers know that he used to be a girl?

Me: I'm not sure but that question did cross my mind while talking to him.

Time for a vacation?

Things have definitely been crazy this past week. The kids showed up for summer school. I apparently got rid of the latest moocher. Oh, and there was lots of time hanging out with my bar friend -- who will now be known by the name of Grasshopper. (I discussed this with her last week.) Perhaps too much time with Grasshopper. We now complete each other's thoughts. Guys are starting to make cracks like, "You two should get married."

I think I went out last Wednesday. It's kind of hazy. The days have all started to run together.

I know that I went out Thursday. Grasshopper unfortunately had befriended the Queen of queens before I arrived. He seemed OK at first but with each drink he became more flamboyant and more obnoxious. We became angry because he kept running all of the straight men out of the place. Oh yeah, and then there was his constant whining about how we should buy him drinks. Huh? When he managed to con a friend into showing up, he then complained about how skimpy he thought the shot was. He made comments about Grasshopper's split ends and ones about how I needed a pedicure. Like we didn't know these things. He didn't like our fashion sense either. (We had come straight from work. We both work with children. Sorry but when I'm working with kids there is a limit on how dressed up I get.) Once he left, Grasshopper quickly turned to me and asked, "Didn't you want to ask him why he had not bothered to invest in some Proactiv?" I howled because I thought that I was the only one who had noticed his skin.

Friday night found Grasshopper and I out once more. I was in a foul mood -- surfing the crimson wave and all. But it was one of our fave bands playing, The Mundaze. They inspire folks to dance. Unfortunately they inspired this one woman into continuously dancing her way back into my lap. Things almost got real ugly. People asked if I wanted to put my foot up her nether regions. I couldn't have if I had really wanted to because she was too damn close. Then there was the guy who joined the three women on the dance floor. Grasshopper said, "Umm. That's not dancing. That's called a seizure." The worst of them all was the guy I dubbed "Herman Munster." Yes, he was that scary. And then he kept trying to grope Grasshopper. She finally had to take him outside so she could have a little chat with him. We finished the evening with the Russians.

The Russian guy had seemed promising since he could follow directions. He remembered Grasshopper's name when he called her on Saturday. He also remembered to call after 11 a.m. He could not understand how to keep his hands to himself though. I don't think I'll be hearing much about him in the future.

Sunday it was back to Beckett's. This time to watch the World Cup finals. I have never seen the place so packed ever. Luckily I was in a much better mood. Or maybe it was the Chimay I was sipping while I chatted with this Irish couple.

All I know is that I may wait until Thursday night before I go out again.


"It is not my fault that the stupid woman insists upon staying out until the wee hours of the morning. I expect my breakfast at 6 a.m. regardless and will stare at you like this until you comply."


"I like it when she goes out. Then she won't bother me. Like when she insisted on taking this photo of me."

Old movies

As a movie lover I couldn't resist this quiz.


You're Brigitte Bardot!


What Classic Pin-Up Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Old patterns

One of these days I'm going to learn.

First there was Musician Boy. He had a job and a dream. He wasn't really sure what the dream was. It would change from week to week. And he never really had a plan. But there was the dream.

Then there was Retail Boy. He too has a job and a dream. And he admitted that his job will not lead to his dream. And that seems OK with him.

Now there is Unemployed Boy. He won't be around much longer. He says that eventually he will get another job. For now though, he is perfectly happy living off of his savings. He does use part of that savings taking me out to eat. This is a marked improvement over the other two. However, he has also taken to stopping by unannounced. He also seems to show up at a point when he has only one cigarette left in his pack. This means that he sits around smoking mine while trying to wrest the remote control out of my hands. Yesterday was a bad day for me. Cramps. Need I say more? And he kept bugging the crap out of me. I don't know if he realizes that I have now decided that he must go. Of course, when I put Natasha Bedingfield's "Single" in a loop and started singing along, I think that should have been a bit of a hint.

So now I am going to keep reminding myself that I am not allowed to date guys who are too close to me in age. They just end up annoying me.

On a happier note, I got an email from the Belgian yesterday. (Yes, he's still around.) He sent me photos of his lovely vacation in Egypt. Jealous.

I love my neighborhood

A couple of weeks ago I realized that I had not stopped by Flare's in quite some time. As it turns out, she had posted this cool meme idea that I just knew I was going to have to borrow.

The rules are as follows:

(1) You must name where you live.

(2) You must include at least one and no more than six photos. The photos must show things within a 20 minute walk of your home. Also the photos must have been taken specifically for the meme.

(3) You must tag at least one person.

I live in the lovely neighborhood of North Berkeley.


Two places that I think help to define my neighborhood -- The University and Chez Panisse.


This place brings back childhood memories.


The original Body Shop. They sold their name to the other company back in the 80s I believe.





One of the other things I like about walking through my neighborhood is checking out everyone's yards. Lawns are rare.

I think I will have to tag Jolene and Daniel on this one because I know how much the two of them love going out and taking photos.

Past life

In a Past Life...

You Were: An Arrogant Belly Dancer. Where You Lived: Peru. How You Died: The Plague.

Who Were You In a Past Life?