Wizards & Wishes

This week the librarian and her sweetheart are traveling to "see the wizard" (as the librarian's sweetheart so aptly put it.) We are squinching up our eyes tight in concentration and sending lots of good wishes in their direction (with fingers and toes still crossed).

It's hard to be so far away when important things are happening. In my frustration at not being able to horn in on the St. Paul parade of well wishing, I thought I'd see if I could find something fun for the librarian and her sweetheart to do when they were in Rochester, MN. Sounds like feeding the geese at Silver Lake is a fun activity. Also, there is a vegan cafe called "The Back Room Deli" that is behind a natural foods co-op (making it sound like a speakeasy). Aside from that, there are museums (converted from mansions) where important doctors lived? It's hard enough to visit doctors, much less pay to take a tour of their fancy homes.

Here's my favorite review of Rochester, MN.

0 of 1 Yahoo! User found the following review helpful:

Horrible City

By A Yahoo! User from Rochester, MN

07/10/06

Overall:
Atmosphere
Convenience
Safety
Value

This is an awful, awful place to live. There is absolutly nothing here to do. Especially if you're under the age of 21. And even then there isn't much to do either. Though it's pretty safe here, I definetly would not recommend living or visiting here. Stay away, people..stay away.

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Rochester kind of sounds like the town where I grew up.

Good luck on your journey librarian & your sweetheart and it's true, we are all stuffed in your pockets.

My Morning Walk!

My Morning Walk

Monkey license

Having a pet Bush Baby has been part of my rich fantasy life ever since we watched the movie "Duma" last night. In this film there is a trained (how did they do that?!) bush baby pal (Mashaka) as one of the so-cute-it-hurts animal characters (Duma is the cheetah.) However, in order to have a Bush Baby as a pet, you need to have a monkey license. That sounds like too much paperwork. Besides, I'm sure they would keep me up at night, being nocturnal wild creatures and everything (that, ahem, mark their paths with urine). Best to leave them to the jungle where they belong. Thank you internet for providing this clip so that everyone can know the magic cuteness of Mashaka minus the magic path marking stench.

Downtown Protest

Toast the Haggis!

It's Burns Night -- a birthday celebration in Scotland for the poet Robert Burns. The Chef & I have been fascinated with this holiday ever since we heard the Scottish band Camera Obscura on the John Peel show singing their charmingly twee music compositions to his poetry. We are big Camera Obscura fans, and now we are fans of the poet/lyricist Robert Burns.

Here are lyrics to his song "A Bottle and Friend."

There's nane that's best of human kind,
But the cheerful and the gay, man
Fal la la

Here's a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o'care, man?

Then catch the moments as they fly,
and use them as ye ought, man.
Believe me, happiness is shy,
and comes not aye when sought, man.
Nice, huh? Burns Night is quite elaborate and involves a Burns Supper where there is not only haggis eating but toasting and addressing the haggis ("Gie her a Haggis!") along with eating tatties, neeps followed by Typsy Laird for dessert. Don't forget there is also poetry reading, bagpipe playing and whiskey drinking. Note: I had no idea there was vegetarian haggis, but I guess there is! Mmmm, oatmeal and lentils are much tastier than sheep lungs.

We will not be eating haggis tonight for our Burns Supper. However, we will be eating lamb stew (seems Scottish) and roasted neeps (turnips) tatties (mashed potatoes) and again listening to Camera Obscura sing Robert Burns poetry on the John Peel show. I finally found the MP3 after searching through stacks and stacks of unorganized CDs. (let me know if you want a copy!)

Of course the Chef had to make a Bobby Burns cocktail. I don't think that's traditional.

Bobby Burns
1-1/2 oz. Italian Vermouth (the liquor nerd used Carpano Antica)
1-1/2 oz. Scotch whisky (the liquor nerd used Compass Box Asyla)
2 dashes Benedictine

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Also for the occasion, I rented the Michael Powell film "I Know Where I'm Going" AND Belle and Sebastian's "Fans Only" DVD so we can listen to Scottish accents all night long.

This is a house that loves celebrating theme nights.

"To the Immortal Memory of Robert Burns!"

Puppies vs. the Cat

I think I've watched this 50 times already. I still need to watch it again.

Everyday Memories

I've never minded being called up for jury duty. I love watching the process, milling about with the rest of the average citizens and (most of all) hearing their stories and how their lives relate (or don't) to whatever odd circumstance that requires selecting a random batch of people to make decisions. Once the Chef & I were selected at the same time and eventually we got into the same jury pool and eventually the same jury. It was a union case and at the time I was a union steward for that leftie radio station so the lawyer for "THE MAN" quickly had me tossed out. The process lasted a whole week and the Chef & I always hung out in the back of the courtroom together, ate lunch together, read one newspaper together. I think people thought we were a jury duty romance. That always made me smile. Oh and our groups were named after colors and I think at one point we were in the Black group and this guy (who was black) asked us, "What are you?" and we responded, "Black" and he said, "No you're not! I'm black!" and we all laughed. Ah, jury duty.

Mind you, I've never actually had to serve so maybe it's not the "duty" I enjoy, just the process when I end up getting out of it. I've been selected a few times, but I've always escaped and felt elated for the rest of the day. One of my favorite jury duty memories was the time I was dismissed after only a few hours so I decided to NOT GO BACK TO WORK and instead went to a bookstore. I skipped in and, to my amazement, realized cartoonist LYNDA J. BARRY was just about to start reading cartoons from her book "The Greatest of Marlys"! At one point she THREW OUT GIANT LEMONHEADS to the audience and I CAUGHT ONE! (note - Lemonheads are my favorite sugar crack candy.) Afterwards, I bought her book and she signed it. We discussed Wisconsin (she was born in Richland Center, WI) On this day I felt like the happiest luckiest person on the planet. I was on the verge of exploding.

The last time I went through the jury duty process wasn't as fun, because it was for the criminal court (not the civil) and going into that courthouse is super scary and (go figure) involves walking through a metal detector and hanging out with criminals. One of them kept crashing our courtroom and saying crazy things loudly and no one removed him. Isn't that the entire job of a bailiff? To keep the order? I was full of worry that I would get picked and have to tell my story (age, martial status, what neighborhood I lived in, renter vs. homeowner and have I ever had a heated argument with a neighbor?) in front of a crazy person. Things were definitely not in order in that courtroom. He eventually wandered out and I crossed my fingers he wouldn't attack anyone in the hallway.

If you've never been called up for jury duty, you should know that during the selection process, everyone and their uncle (and aunt) makes up elaborate excuses for why they can't serve (it's true -- the first time I witnessed this blatant weasel behavior I was shocked!) Because of this, the judge usually gives everyone a pep talk which usually is something like, "Be a good citizen! It's your CIVIC DUTY! If you were in a fix and needed a jury, wouldn't you count on your peers to serve?" As I'm a total Midwestern nerd, it would never occur to me to make up an excuse, so don't tell me that you've done it or else I will think you are un-American and never trust you again.

Anyway, when it got to the pep talk, the judge for this criminal case used a different tactic. He started off by saying that we all do the same things every day, day in and day out, and everything blurs into nothing and who even remembers yesterday? He called these "Everyday Memories." At this point, I laughed and then realized that it wasn't a joke, so I shut up. Then he said, if you served on JURY DUTY, it would be a completely UNIQUE and NEW experience that you would REMEMBER because it would something different from your usual grind of horrible nothingness and boring everything. I looked around at people, and a few were caught up in it and nodding. Wow, I thought. Everyday memories. They're supposed to be bad? It was one of the saddest pep talks I ever heard.

I ended up spending two days in that courtroom listening to all the stories. It got a little boring (even for me) by the second day so I was again, elated when my name was never called and I was excused FIVE MINUTES after they were supposed to release us back into the big jury pool for the rest of the week. This meant I was off the hook. Again, ELATED! SPARED! I didn't even mind that it was too late to wander around downtown in search of Lynda J. Barry.

When I got home I explained the "Everyday Memories" theory to the Chef. I started thinking about all my Everyday Memories and how much I like them, and, even though they happen nearly every day, I don't tire of them and I remember them and look forward to them and can't wait for the next one, and why would I want to serve on jury duty when I could be home having EVERYDAY MEMORIES?!

Here is one of my favorites. Each morning when the Chef makes fun of the crazy cat lady who lives in the house, I say, "Don't bother me! I'm having an Everyday Memory."

Considerate Desserts

It was only when I was washing the dishes left behind by eight dinner guests did I realize, hey! wait a minute, why is this so easy? Not only did a few of our guests bring desserts, but those kind folks brought plate-less, fork-less treats like delicious peanut butter brownies and fancy cookies from the $10 organic cupcake bakery! While at the time I was gobbling them down I was simply thinking, YUM - it's now I realize that it also resulted in eight less plates and utensils for me to scrub. This sort of thing brings great joy to a lazy hostess with no dishwasher. But who needs a dishwasher when you have such kind and considerate dessert-toting pals? We should invite them over to dinner way more often.

p.s. okay so I admit that I haven't finished washing all the glassware yet, but The Chef (and cocktail maker extraordinaire) said he would help me tonight. Yet another good excuse for not having a dishwasher.

Devil Juice

I married someone who makes devil drinks out of devil juice. Scary.

chicken

I'm sorry to disappoint everyone, but I walked up to Bernal Hill this morning with my camera but I was too chicken to take pictures of dogs in jackets. I thought maybe one would stray from their owner and I could snap a discreet photo without anyone noticing, but all the jacket wearing dogs were on leashes. I will try to overcome this fear and be direct next time. "HI! Would you mind if I take a picture of your jacket wearing dog for my BLOG?" I thought I would be more fearless as I got older, but I guess it still bothers me if people think I'm a weirdo.

However I did get a pictures of frost on the park road (above) and on the grass (below). Big whoop I hear you say -- but I've lived here for 13 years and I've never seen frost in San Francisco. (and look, there is even a dog way off in the distance. Unfortunately, no jacket.)

Brrrr...

It sure has been cold here. Well, cold for here. Not really that cold. When we were up in Anderson Valley (drinking wine and taking pictures of old trucks) it got down to 17 degrees, which is SHOCKING to Californians (and surprising even to us!) Check out Mrs. Duck walking on the frozen pond at Lazy Creek Vineyards. I bet she was also surprised.

That night when we returned to the hotel -- our room was FREEZING. Turns out the radiator didn't quite um, heat up so we just jumped into bed with our socks on and huddled together for warmth. The next day we discovered that other hotel guests had requested space heaters. Doh! Ah well, huddling together for warmth isn't such a bad deal.

The weather was beautiful -- crisp, clear and almost like winter. It is January, isn't it? However, the oranges, lemons & avocados are super pissed off. We will certainly pay for their ire at the supermarket. Revenge of the citrus.

The other plus of this cold snap is that all the dogs in our neighborhood are wearing jackets. I'll have to hang out on a corner w/ my camera and take a picture of one of them in a sweater.

Boonville

When the Chef & I need to escape, we head up to Anderson Valley. This year we got to visit the bear in Boonville.

One Bright Berry

Look! It's a berry (just one) on our "Seuss" fern. This snap goes out to the librarian and her sweetheart in hopes that it may brighten their weekend.

Absinthe Minded

"So that guy we met on New Year's Eve sent me an e-mail."

"Oh yeah? That's funny."

"He said that he's going to invite us to an Absinthe party in Mill Valley."

"Really? That's strange. Does he know that you have a bottle of Absinthe?"

"Um, yes. You told him."

"I did?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Oh wait. Did I invite strangers over to our house to drink Absinthe?"

"Yes. Yes you did."

"Oh yeah, I kind of remember that."

American Masters on Annie

For those of you who haven't been following the heated discussion in the "comments" section of this blog, we* recommend that you watch the American Masters documentary on photographer Annie Liebovitz. Not only will there be hot hot hot sexytime photos of Keith Richards AND Patti Smith, but also an incredible look into the life of one-of-a-kind photographer Annie Liebowitz. Check your local PBS station, right now! I was amazed at how they got all that incredibly personal footage and then the credits rolled -- the documentary was shot and directed by her sister, Barbara Liebovitz.

*Recommended by Haus Frau, Kim Bitter and soon to be, Irish Goddess. (um, the three readers of this blog. Wait a minute, do I count? Make that two.)

Ring Fetcher

Our cat Clementine chases (and retrieves) Odwalla ring tops. However, if the toss isn't good enough, she will demand a better one. She is a genius!

Patti Smith is Hot!

The Chef expressed some disappointment that this blog had not been updated, so I'll just take this opportunity to remind him of what we did yesterday. Because I wanted to see the movie "Little Children," and The Chef likes science fiction, we went to see "Children of Men." It was our compromise. However, watching this movie was very traumatic for the both of us. Generally, I don't like to waste such a high level of stress on made-up things, which is why I don't like horror movies or riding rollercoasters, or having people sneak up behind me and shouting, "BOO!" See "Children of Men" at your own risk. It's way more traumatic action than story.

Afterward, we sped home to hide from the future and The Chef made hamburgers for dinner. I grew up eating hamburgers for dinner on Sunday -- EVERY Sunday. It was also the only night as kids we could watch television and eat dinner at the same time. It was a big treat. The Chef & I usually eat recover-from-the-weekend soba noodle soup on Sunday but tonight we needed comfort so we ate our hamburgers and watched Helen Mirren being interviewed on "60 Minutes." I nearly felt that fear of having to go to school the next day. I bet you a zillion million dollars my parents were also eating hamburgers and watching "60 Minutes" last night. I'll have to call them and ask, "Who knew that Helen Mirren was a English seaside town carny girl?"

Today (not as bad as going to highschool) I had to go into the office, which reminded me of reason #823 it's nice to work at home. This morning I heard one of my co-workers say, "I CANNOT find an "attractive" picture of Patti Smith!" I sighed to myself, "Idiot." But THEN they said, "I can't believe she found someone to marry her!" WHAT?!? I automatically snorted in disgust and then there was silence coming from the other cubicle. Like without big tits and blonde hair, Patti Smith doesn't have anything going on. IDIOTS! Working from home, it's easy to forget how stupid and shallow people can be. I want to say it's a good thing to be reminded of this reality, but it's not. It made me feel better that a rock goddess like Patti Smith wouldn't give a rat's ass. Cool.

Full Moon over Oakland

After a Kim Chee-tastic dinner in the Outer Sunset, we spotted the full moon and went up to Bernal Hill to get a better look. ooooooo. Full Moon. Amazing. If I had a fancy camera w/ a zoom lens this picture would be better. But even BETTER, we'd ALL walk up to Bernal Hill and say, ooooo, look at that full moon. No camera necessary.

Greed

Tonight we finally finished watching a movie we've had on our Tivo since July. At the time, we thought it would be a great idea to record the 1924 silent film classic "Greed" directed by Erich Von Stroheim. It was set in San Francisco (we live here), co-starred Zasu Pitts (Zasu!) and Gibson Gowland (!) and it was the FOUR HOUR RESTORED VERSION making it a lesson in film history. That obsessive nutso (he wears a monacle!) Erich Von Stroheim originally filmed a NINE HOUR VERSION and it was clipped to around two hours, with the additional footage (filmed in SF and Death Valley) "tragically" destroyed.

The restored version that we watched (over a period of six months) was reconstructed using a combination of silent film and still photo (read hypnotic slideshow) segments that caused us to become very, very sleepy upon viewing -- only able to watch short stretches at a time along with coming up with lots of excuses for not being in the right "mood" on most nights to continue the endless horrific saga of Trina and McTeague. For why would one want to watch "Greed" when there was a third season repeat of the "Gilmore Girls" on TV? Or um, "Dogs with Jobs" for that matter. So, that's why it took us over six months to watch.

There were a few times that we almost packed it in, but then I became determined and obsessed to finish watching it. I'm like that about movies, books, magazines, newspapers, food and the need to listen to every CD released on the planet. Uh oh. At the risk of being attacked by film students, I'll just come out and say that it probably didn't need to be nine hours long. The four hours alone makes you feel like you are being tortured. We tried to hang in there by making comments like "Good thing they didn't take THAT scene out!" Plus, it ends badly. Very badly. Death Valley. I won't give it away.

However, I discovered they filmed the SF dentist office scenes on the corner of Hayes & Laguna and that the original building is still there! I'll have to look for it (unless that proves I'm obsessed and tortured.) I also discovered that there a bunch of funny"Masterpiece" vs "Trash" arguments about this movie on Amazon.com.

I glad it's off the Tivo, now there is more room for feel-good fluff. We could all use a bit more of that sort of thing these days.

P.S. This is a good time to thank Irish Goddess for my X-mas gift, the funny book "Television Without Pity-752 Things We Love To Hate About Television." It's the perfect antidote -- it even has an entry on "Urkel." Thanks Irish Goddess!

My (hic) reward

I fixed some stuff at work today, and as a reward they gave me - a bottle of champagne.

Ironic, no?

hic.

Just One Dot

Usually on New Year's Eve the Chef & I stay at home watching "Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve," nodding off before midnight. But this year we went to a party! At Mr. Alex Trebek's house! It was within stumbling distance, so it was hard to come up with excuses of why we couldn't attend. Plus there were lots of nice people there including Leslie and Quami Quami and some of the Scrabbel posse. There was even a funny guy there that trailed the Chef, convinced that the Chef spoke as slowly as he spoke rapidly -- the two extremes of the language speed ladder. Eventually they figured out that they used to work together at the video game place. There were a bunch of people playing "Dance Dance Revolution" which is usually one of my favorite things to point and laugh at, but I must have been too drunk to focus on them. Dammit!

Alas, I had so much fun that I made the mistake of drinking too much champagne, which despite being used to celebrate things, usually just makes me feel queasy. Stoopid bubbles. After midnight and all the hooting, I turned into that drunken hiccuping person and (hic) the Chef and I (hic) stumbled (hic) home (hic). Then I threw up while the Chef went back to the party to retrieve my favorite scarf. The Chef took pity on me and got me to bed, which is kind of a Freaky Friday scenario as I'm usually the caretaker of the drunk person in our house. Thanks Chef!

I woke up to the glorious new year not being able to stand upright. Proving once again that even old people who know better sometimes act like idiots.

Already, 2007 rocks!