Who's on second?

"No, what's on second."

"That's what I want to know. What's the guy's name on second?"

"Exactly."

No, this is not a post about Abbott and Costello, although I love them. Just like I love The Stooges. With this last one, I was able to be rated as "truly one of the guys." There was this whole discussion about the Stooges elements in the Lethal Weapon movies. So this paired with my understanding of characters in comic books, suddenly made me "truly one of the guys." Don't even get me started about cars. Or the debate about the designated hitter in the American League. Or why pitchers should also go to bat. I still love my A's though.

And no, this post is not about being one of the guys either. Although I have spent many years doing that. I guess it's what happens when you are one of the few girls in a mostly male family. And if you're from my mom's family, shut up. I know that your generation is mostly female. Not the same for mine. One of my first major lessons in life was when making a fist, make sure your thumb is on the outside. Otherwise you might break it when you swing. And nothing like the weight of a roll of quarters in your hand when you're swinging, especially if you are a slender girl. Not that I ever actually did that. I just use the quarters when shadowboxing.

No, instead this post is a revisit to my second love. I also realize that I forgot to mention my third love in the previous post -- movies. Yep. You've got it. My boyfriend came in fourth. Maybe that's why he turned cold. Nah. He just has commitment issues. Even greater than mine -- if that is at all possible. Reminds me. I need to drop him an email. See if he is wishing death upon any children yet. Yep, he has rejoined the workforce and is also a teacher. He is also the guy who remembered from my casual mention that red vines are my fave movie candy. That's why I kept him around back then.

So onto the real topic. Last night I was de-stressing at home. This means sipping on a glass of red wine while listening to tunes on my headphones. Why headphones, you ask? Because I want to block out Boris's wailing. Not that he did any that I could tell.

Tuesday night was all about bringing out my East Bay roots. Well, to start of with. I kind of get a sense of getting grounded in who I am. (This is helpful because I went to the hairdresser on Tuesday after school and now have a slightly new hair color. This I could live with but she also insisted upon lightening my eyebrows. This will take some getting used to as I keep looking in the mirror and not recognizing my reflection.) I started off with Too Short's "Blow the Whistle." My kids have tried to do the whistle part in class. I've cut them off with, "There will be no Too Short in here." You should have seen the stunned looks I received. Followed by, "How do you know that song?" I swear that teaching is what keeps me young in some ways. Another popular song in my classroom is "London Bridge." I have one male student who likes to sing the chorus. Oh, and he jumps out of his seat to do it with a lot of pelvic thrusting. Did I mention that I teach ten-year-olds? It's really quite disturbing.

As I listened to song after song, I thought of my dating life. Drummer Boy is history. I have not heard from him in over two weeks. Oh, and his band is playing locally tonight. Will I be there? Nope. And I thought of Musician Boy from earlier this year. After a couple of weeks, he finally stopped trying to contact me. But this love of musicians goes back further. I spent the last half of undergrad in an on-again, off-again relationship with a bass player. He was in a cover band and only sang lead on two songs -- "Ask Me" by The Smiths and "Great Balls of Fire" by Jerry Lee. At shows he would look at me on the second one. And so many women hated me for dating him. Thing is that I had met him at least a year before I started dating him. A common friend who was also in ROTC had introduced us. Unfortunately at the time he looked like the engineering geek that he was in some ways and I was dating this really hot pre-med student who had just been accepted to Chicago. Geeky engineering student or the suave Beer Doctor? Seemed to be a no-brainer at age 20.

I also mixed in some latin music as well as some Dirty South stuff. Tonight I booked my ticket for Mexico to visit my mom for Christmas. This will be the first Christmas that we have been together since 1994. And the Dirty South stuff? Well, I have to get ready for the family reunion (my dad's side) in DC next summer. And yes, I know that DC is not part of the Dirty South but most of family who will there are from the Dirty South. Just can't figure out those Falcons fans.

Oh, and as far as the kids are concerned, staying in this past weekends seems to be just what I needed. I have found that even though I cough occasionally, I seem to have the same energy now that I had during the first week of school. I even managed to change the seating arrangement in 20 minutes yesterday. Because the kids have personal stuff in their desks, this means actually carrying desks across the room. It was so much easier when I taught middle school. *sigh*

Hacking up a lung

Note: I had planned on posting this in the morning but Blogger was not cooperating. Grrrrr.

I spent the majority of the weekend at home recovering from a cold. Yep, that's what it takes to slow me down. Being sick. In those moments I decided to be conscious, I caught up on some of my DVD viewing.


A view of the cats before I was sick. I cannot leave my boots out because they both seem to think they make a perfect bed.

By Sunday, I was feeling much better. I was also in need of other company besides the cats. They have been great company during my cold, always making sure that they are nearby.

So the plan was to head out but where to go? Then it came to me. Tower! My dad had told me earlier in the week that they were going out of business and therefore, were having a huge sale. As it turns out, the sale is only 20%. Pah! I did pick up Cinderfella though. I love the scene when Fella shows up at the ball.

Oh, and then I decided to brave Berkeley Bowl on a Sunday because I had this vision for dinner. Of course, these visions often include ingredients that are not already in my kitchen. I now understand people's love of Berkeley Bowl. It was well worth the insanity of trying to negotiate the narrow aisles with too many people in the place. They won me over the minute I entered the store because one of the first things I saw was the cheese. And they had the crack of cheese at about two-thirds the price that Andronico's sells it. Or at least it seemed that way. Alas, they did not have the number one item on my shopping list -- baby bok choi. What is up with that? I then headed over the Andronico's near me. They were out as well. I was starting to believe that all of Berkeley was suddenly having the same baby bok choi craving that I was. I was going to try the huge Albertson's in El Cerrito, but then decided to try another Andronico's location first. I lucked up there.


Here's what happened to the baby bok choi. On the rest of the plate is rice, seared tuna with sesame seeds, and a sauce of wasabi, soy sauce, ginger, garlic, lemon juice, and sugar.

I just remembered that there are a couple of other photos I've been meaning to post.


This is the watercolor I received the first week of school.


And this is the homemade curry chicken that one of the families brought me after school on the 13th. It was yummy.

I just hope that the children do not decide to infect me with something new today. I know they're how I got the cold in the first place. Little germ carriers.

We all scream...

You Are Strawberry Ice Cream

A bit shy and sensitive, you are sweet to the core. You often find yourself on the outside looking in. Insightful and pensive, you really understand how the world works. You are most compatible with chocolate chip ice cream.

What Flavor Ice Cream Are You?

I wish I could have some ice cream now but it seems that I have a cold.

Things I have learned from Jade

I was sitting around this week wondering about my friendship with Jade. This is nothing new as I have done this many times. Then I decided to come up with this list. By the way, for those of you who are my newer readers, Jade is my BFF. Argh! I have obviously been spending too much time with the kids. But this is a fitting description. I have known Jade since I was seven. She knows where the bodies are buried. (It might also be why she is not allowed to read this blog.)

1. When someone asks you to reveal something deep about yourself, tell them what color underwear you are wearing.

2. You can find the cover charge for the latest hot spot in the couch. Of course, this requires having the attitude of, "What? I know you are not about to say anything to me for paying in coins!"

3. Speed limits do not apply when you are trying to get to a club. Why else do they put all those numbers on the speedometer?

4. When you are married with kids, have at least one single friend. You can live vicariously through this person. Note: Make sure this friend is an outgoing, partygirl kind of chick.

5. Americans are boring. (Or perhaps they are not willing to recognize the princess you are sure that you are.) Therefore, only date Europeans.

6. When diet and exercise have not given you the results that you want, get plastic surgery. (Jade has not actually done this but it is a frequent topic of conversation over way too many years to count.)

7. When your BFF drops by unexpectedly, as she is prone to do, offer her food and drink. Not necessarily in that order.

8. Be willing to share all the horrid things that your mother has said about your BFF with her. Then laugh hysterically when she shares the same with you. Declare both mothers to be idiots who just don't understand.

9. Remember the favors that friends have done for you. When you had no money one summer and your friend paid your way into clubs every week because she could, repay this favor years later when she is unemployed and you're not.

10. Be there for your friends no matter what. If your friend is in the hospital, be the first to call. OK. So maybe you're the only one who actually calls.

These are valuable life lessons. Really. And even though the beginning of the list may be categorized as things that irritate me, it is the end of the list that keeps us friends. I measure friendships between those that I have with Jade and Emerald. They both already know that if I ever marry, they will be the first that I call to be bridesmaids. They both recognize that I have a tendency to cut people out of my life if they piss me off too much. I have assured them that this will never be the case with them.

Jade and I have had some doozies of fights. And yes, I mean fights. I remember one in which I lost an earring. It's a shame that it was one of a pair that I had borrowed from her. We have gone for weeks of not speaking to one another. But then we remember that there is no one else in each other's lives who knows as much about us other than family. And family? Love them but we all need someone else. So we always find a truce and move on.

Years ago when I was going through therapy, I told the therapist that I did not really trust anyone. Then she learned about Jade. She pointed out that I was playing tricks in my mind by telling myself that I could not trust anyone. My friendship with Jade proved that this was a lie. And so I have to question why I can trust Jade and have so much difficulty trusting other people. Part of it is knowing that Jade will always be there for me. She may not be there on the daily basis at this point but I know that she will be there if I really need her. Because she recognizes when those times are. The only conclusion that I can draw is that Jade entered my life before I started to distrust the world. But it also gives me hope. Because she is proof that I have not completely lost the ability to trust. And knowing this, makes everything alright in my world.

My second love

Years ago I was dating this guy and made the mistake of saying that I had two great loves in life. The mistake was that he thought that he was one of them. Fortunately we are still friends. I attribute this to the fact that at the time he was one of my best friends in the world. Even though I did not want to date him anymore (Well, not under those circumstances at least), I was not willing to give up the friendship we had before we started dating. I like to think that we have evolved (Maybe we have devolved.) because we have finally returned to that point at which we feel comfortable speaking to each other about our dating lives. It only took us ten years to reach this point. And so once more, I have the friend that I once knew.

But this is about love. My first love has always been books. My mom would tuck me into bed and I would have whatever book I was reading tucked under the pillow along with a flashlight. Now some of you might think this is perfectly normal. However, I was doing this at age seven. When I was younger, my mom would send me to my room as a punishment. She stopped doing this because she quickly discovered that I was perfectly content to do so. My room was filled with books that I was longing to read. Books are still important to me. They are things of respect. So much so that I feel that it is like sacrilege to break the spine. This made me well-prepared for my time working in bookstores in college. One of the perks of working in a bookstore is that you are allowed to check out anything from the store as long as it comes back in "sellable" condition. This means that you cannot break the spine. Thank goodness I had had years of practice in this area. So if you break the spine, or even worse dog ear the pages, you will no longer be allowed to borrow my books.

Now we finally get to my second love -- music. In some ways it fits with my first. Song lyrics at their best are poetry. One of my students recently asked me if I liked rap. I told her to guess. She, correctly, decided that I did. She then asked if I liked country. She was shocked when I told her, "Some."

So my muscial preferences run the full gamut as far as genre is concerned. Some of my all-time fave musicians are Patsy Cline, Sting (OK. Not so much as a musician but as a lyricist.), and Stan Getz. Oh. So I also love Barry Manilow, Peter Gabriel, Billy Joel, Marvin Gaye, Thomas Dolby, Oingo Boingo (Danny Elfman is a king.), early Hall & Oates, Dave Brubeck (Can we say Disney and Peanuts?), Steely Dan (Yes, I know they are really only two guys with a bunch of high quality studio musicians.), and Jill Scott. These are folks -- who if they were all still living -- I'd buy their albums. Well, if you are going to mention dead musicians, you may as well throw in Buddy Holly, Janis Joplin, Jimmy Hendrix, and Bill Withers.

The first stuff I remember from growing up was Sly and Bill Withers. My best friend and I would sit around at nursery school singing "Ain't No Sunshine" and "Hot Fun in the Summertime." At home I would listen to my parents's Motown and Atlantic collection. At the time I had a babysitter who would throw James Brown onto the stereo as soon as my parents left. She taught me how to do the Funky Chicken. I sometimes wonder what became of her since her family moved when I was around 7 or 8. (My memory of home is foggy around that time since my parents were starting to break up. I have realized as an adult that I have little memory of home at that time. The majority of memories from then center around school.) I also remember another babysitter from that time period who had the obligatory poster of Angela Davis in her bedroom.

During this same period, I went to a childcare provider after school. This woman did not like people of color -- unless they were writing a check to her. I did not share this information with my mom until I was about to start fifth grade. This woman and her husband had given birth to two boys. They then adopted four girls. The two older girls were the ones who actually watched us most of the time. They introduced us to Aerosmith, the Stones, and Steely Dan. Well, there were also a few pop hits mixed in as well -- like "Wildfire."

After my parents divorced, my dad and I would go to Leopold's once a month. (The store no longer exists but each time I walk past the old site, I feel a little tug at my heart.) Leopold's was known for two things -- one of the best jazz collections in the Bay Area and the place for DJs to shop. My dad has always been a jazz fan, mostly vocals. After some time I realized that my generous dad would not notice if I slipped a few extra LPs into his purchasing stack. And thus started my music collection.

By the time I got to college, my monthly budget included $60 for music. This is why I cannot part with my vinyl. I often labored over each choice, only buying those things that I thought were really important to me. Since my tastes, at times, were "cutting edge," I had a tendency to buy stuff from bands that no one had heard of at the time. This is part of my sentimental connection to my music.

The other part stems from the fact that I tend to associate music with either specific people in my life or to specific events. "Bust A Move" will always be Jade's song. Just as I cannot listen to Prince without thinking of Emerald. (Before we would head out on Friday nights in college, she would blast whatever Prince songs were appealing to her at the time.) And I can't listen to Celia Cruz without thinking of my mother.

I have read that the sense of smell is the strongest sensory memory. I'm willing to argue that sound is the second strongest.