maisnon

Luna(tic) Park

2009-03-09T16:07:00.000-07:00

Weekend update, y'all!

Friday
I possibly drank too much wine with dinner at my friend's house. Then, we had Girl Scout cookies and talked about boys. The End.

Saturday
I headed to the Alemany Farmers' Market bright and early. Items purchased: leeks, potatoes (COMBINE!), pumpkin bolani, sweet jalapeno jelly, oro blanco (which I think is a cross between a pomelo and a grapefruit?), Asian pears, Pink Lady apples, anemones, ranunculas,

A very dear friend is moving, so I accompanied him to IKEA. This really says something about our friendship, because - much as I love that store - I have a pact with myself to never, ever go on a weekend. I don't think my friend was much impressed with my mad IKEA skills. (I can recognize most items by name! And tell you what other finishes are available! And tell you what other pieces are part of the collection!)

I met some friends in the Mission for dinner. Perhaps I should have reminded all parties involved that parking in the Mission is NOT for sissies. It is practically a full-contact sport. You must must must leave yourself adequate time, or it all becomes way too stressful. When we all finally amassed in front of Luna Park, we had missed our reservation. (Their policy is that, when your party is complete, they put you at the top of the waitlist. I think this parking fiasco-thing has played havoc with a lot of reservations.) Our meals were absolutely delicious (minus some strangely way overcooked vegetables.) With our late start, we were finishing up dessert after 10 pm. Which is when "Living on Prayer" came over the Muzak/iPod/sound system. My friend and I started singing (quietly) into our thumbs. ("Tommy used to work on the docks") (And, as you may recall, I really really can not sing.) When we got to the chorus, we realized that ... other tables were also singing! (Whooah, we're half way there/Livin' on a prayer!") It was made of awesome.

Walking back to the car, I found a five dollar bill! I picked it up, and my friend's fiance immediately said "Is there poop in it??" It turns out some of his college buddies, actually, I can't go any further with that thought. (Use your imagination.)

So, Bon Jovi sing-along and $5! Woo hoo!

Sunday
After all the hijinks on Saturday, this was largely a day of rest. I did manage to clear out my closet (SCAAARY!) I'm moving along (month 2) in my plan to go through all of my stuff. I'm using this book, which is pretty great. Next month's project: the KITCHEN! (And there is a lot of work to be done there!)

55 Fiction Friday: Little Red Hen edition

2009-03-06T12:32:00.000-08:00

Friday serves it up!

There was a sort of virtue in it: saving the recipe, purchasing the eggs at the farmers market, laying out the ingredients on the nearly non-existent counter, assembling the cake with a deft hand, sliding it into the Holly Hobby-sized oven. And now, simply waiting, while the apartment filled up with the smell of love.

missed connections

2009-03-05T12:34:00.000-08:00

When I lived in DC, one of my favorite things to do was to get the CityPaper and sit down and read the I Saw You section. I'm not even sure I can pinpoint why I enjoyed it so much - some of it was purely voyeuristic, I'm sure. But, I also liked seeing how people described the situation/characters ('I was wearing a white t-shirt' Wow. Helpful.) Some people wrote with some wit and flair, and some .... did not.

Craigslist has, of course, moved it to a whole nutha level with Missed Connections. I think people are more likely to write because it now has an immediacy. (Can you believe people used to write it up on a piece of paper and mail it in??) I wonder how often people connect through Missed Connections, and what comes of it.

Recently, I borrowed (yet another) book from the library. Flipping through the book, I came across a little slip of scrap paper with subjects and call numbers written on it. Knitting - check. Sewing - check. Thai cooking - check. Legal practice - check! I wish I could meet this person - I even like their handwriting. We'd have so much to talk about! Maybe we could talk about legal practice over some Thai food....

hypnotic

2009-03-03T10:26:00.000-08:00

As you know, I will try anything to reduce/eliminate allergies. I had come to a kind of understanding with my seasonal allergies: cut waaay back on the gluten, and use a neti pot, and I'm golden. Then, it started to rain. And rain some more. And more, and more. And I discovered that I have some heinous post-rain allergies (molds?), and my current methods weren't working. After going through the whole killer sneezing every morning, Hoover dam of congestion every day thing, I decided to get even further out there.

I went and saw a hypnotist. For realz. As always, I bring you what it was like. We had a "phone consultation" first - talked about what was going on with me, what I hoped for, etc. I liked our vibe, so I made an appointment with her. Her office is very low-key. We sat and talked a little more, then I hopped up on a covered massage table. She tucked me in with pillows, an eye mask, and a blankie. (Honestly, I'd go again just for that treatment!) She turned on a CD of a deep, deep tone and started talking. Here, things go a little fuzzy, to my mind - I fell asleep, but apparently, not entirely. After about half an hour (I think?), she brought me out of the state and left me to put myself back together a little. We sat and talked again and she walked me through a self-hypnosis exercise to "reset/reduce" sneezing and congestion (it's basically a visualization.)

And, I've been using it for weeks. I can't say that my congestion is miraculously gone, it's not. BUT, when I get into my sneezing fits - I can self-hypnotize, do my visualization, and stop the sneezing. This is a big, big deal. My allergy sneezing leaves me wiped out, and can get so bad that I feel like I can't leave the house. So, the sneezing is way down - a wonderful thing! Although I can't completely eliminate the congestion, even that I feel like I can dial back. (And that might just be my perception, but in a way, who cares? I feel a lot better!)

So, there you have it - another "out there" idea for your anti-allergy arsenal!

snow day

2009-03-02T13:35:00.000-08:00

I remember just what it was like: waking up pre-dawn and having that thought streak through your head like an arrow "SNOW!" Leaning over to the window and prying open the shade to gaze out at the lawn. Was it white? Was it white enough? Turning on the radio by the bed, and scrolling away impatiently trying to catch a station announcing the school closures. Waiting, breath held, for the announcement. Perhaps being joined by a little brother or two (allowed on your bed only to increase the fervent Snow Day Prayer energy.) It was a little like rolling the dice - "Big Money, No Whammies." Here, a whammy would be a 1 or 2 hour delay - just enough to throw the parentals off their game (and into Grumpsville), but not enough to get you out of anything. And, oh, the announcement of YOUR county's schools being closed! The joy! The excitement of romping in the snow with the neighbor kids (until Mikey loses a boot and is convinced he has frostbite, even thought he can SEE the house from where he is lying.) The grilled cheese and tomato soup you can almost taste!

I miss that incipient excitement, that surrender of responsibilities. It might just be time for me to call a growns-up Snow Day of my own.

Joy of Twitter

2009-03-01T22:24:00.000-08:00

After letting my twitterverse know that I had this song stuck in my head, one of my twitter peeps hit me up to ask:

"Is it wrong that I sing that song to my infant son all the time? "Boy don't try to front, I-I know just-just what you a-a-are""

when harry met sally

2009-02-28T18:27:00.000-08:00

Harry : You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally : Why not?
Harry : What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends

I love When Harry Met Sally- I've loved it for years. (The iconic diner scene! The witty repartee! The street scenes of NYC!) Not surprisingly, I've always disagreed with Harry.

Until now. I've been truly loathe to admit it, and I'm still fighting it on some level, but goddammit - Harry's right. I've had loads of guy friends most of my life, until fairly recently. And "recently" spells the death knell for my optimism re: platonic friendship. What I've found is that if I am friends with a (straight) guy for some length of time, eventually, he'll decide that I'm into him. This wouldn't be such a big deal if I could just talk to the guy about the situation, but that's never how these things work. Any sort of attempt at discussion is met with a complete stonewall/"I don't know what you're talking about" type attitude. And then I become incandescent with rage.

(This is not to say that I don't occasionally fall for my male friends, but I usually just lie down with a cold compress on my head until it goes away.)

It seems the only friendships with men I can sustain are those with guys who are gay, married, or in relationships. Basically, if the romantic possibility hasn't been excised in some way, things are going to get up going pear-shaped. This poses a problem: my potential male friendship pool is small and shrinking. (For example, while I have many married guy friends, I met them all before they married.) So, increasingly, my male friendships are with men who are younger than me. If I think about it, I can see some vanishing point in the future - make friends with younger men, lose them through misunderstanding (see above) or when they settle down. (It is a rare occasion when I do not lose/nearly lose male friends after marriage.)

It's a thorny knot for me, and one I don't want to spend too too much time thinking on.

55 Fiction Friday: Sawatdee edition

2009-02-27T14:14:00.000-08:00

Friday likes to stand on the corner and people watch.

“Sorry, honey – I’ve got to work late again.” His message echoed in her head as she stared across the street. There he was, whispering into someone (some female one’s) ear. No one tells you how to handle this situation – confront? Slink home with the pad thai you knew would end up in the trash, uneaten?

vingt cinq

2009-02-26T11:29:00.000-08:00

Okay, fine fine fine - the noodging of a 1000 facebook notes pays off in this post.

Libraries are (one of) my happy places. I love wandering the stacks, picking out random books. I go to the library once a week to collect books I've put on hold. I gave away about a gazillion books when I moved from the East Coast, and I promised myself I'd use my local library. It has worked. I treasure my library card.
I nearly went to film school, and was accepted into a medical program. I'm so so glad I didn't pursue those paths.
I get all of my news from blogs. No, no - not news sites. Blogs. (Often, blog posts linking to news sites, but still. Blogs.)
I just bought a cast-iron pan and I'm looking forward to making pineapple upside-down cake. I'm getting more and more into cooking.
I'll never be a big shopper. I can only take about 45 minutes in a mall (I think it's the recycled air? Claustrophobia?) Then, I kind of freak out and need to leave. It's a little better strolling around a shopping district, but yeah - not a shopper.
I have more girl crushes on celebrities than (boy) crushes. Tina Fey, I'm lookin' at you here. (You too, Rachel Maddow and Sarah Haskins.)
I am not allowed to buy candles or bath & body products until I run down the current stocks. It may be a year or more.
After a self-imposed, years-long hiatus - my political/wonky self is back in full force. I am from DC, after all.
This shouldn't be a surprise, but I am a feminist.
If there's anything with eggplant on the menu, that's what I'll order. (See also artichokes, sundried tomatoes, goat cheese, polenta, spinach.)
It's not eco-friendly, but I love driving. Time in the car can be really therapeutic for me.
I just finished training to be a Court Appointed Special Advocate. (I got sworn in today!)
Hulu and Netflix's "Watch Instantly" feature have broken my "Amish/neo-Luddite" ways. I haven't owned a TV in ... ever, but now - with all the material available online - I've started watching a LOT of TV online.
I didn't understand what all the fuss was about Twitter, but I've come to really enjoy it.
I'm ridiculously devoted/obsessed with Target, IKEA, and Trader Joe's.
People ask/assume I'm writing a book on a regular basis. Some day, I'll prove them right.
The KitchenAid Mixer is one of the best reasons to get married. (You only get them off your bridal registry, natch.) I really want one (mixer, not marriage), even though I'm pretty sure I wouldn't use it.
I'm assumed to be a big-time extrovert, but I only come off that way because I zealously guard my alone-time. I needs it! I must have it! MY PRECIOUS!
I'm so lucky I live in the Bay Area - close to wine country, and beaches (with freezing-ass water, granted), Tahoe, etc. My heart really is in San Francisco, high on a hill. I love my neighborhood and its oddly small town vibe. I run errands once a week on foot, and I know my neighbors (and their children and dogs!)
I'm into textiles: I sew, I knit, I embroider and cross-stitch. I find it relaxing and producing something is ... satisfying.
I go through the occasional bout of insomnia. This, above all other things, has taught me openness. I am always open to trying new things that may work. (Aromatherapy, showering at night, "sleep music" - they have all worked for me, to varying degrees.)
I'm a big-time law geek. Sometimes, when I'm reading a legal newspaper or a court decision, I'm suffused with energy and affection. I love how concepts are clarified. I love arguments, and negotiations. I love words.
I enjoy collecting art. Some of my favorite sites include 20X200, and the very addictive etsy.
I'm not very girly-girl, but I am very picky about my eyebrows, and nails.
For reasons unknown, babies and small children *LOVE* me. I think it is somehow genetic, because my father gets the same treatment.

Oscars commentary

2009-02-25T10:39:00.000-08:00

maman: Did you watch the Oscars?
maisnon: No ... did you?
maman: Yes, to see "Slumdog Millionaire", you know.
maisnon: Did you see the movie?
maman: Yes! We saw all of them on the stage!
maisnon: No, did you SEE the movie... "Slumdog Millionaire"?
maman: OH! No, no, no....

heureuse

2009-01-18T21:38:00.000-08:00

I woke up feeling a little unsettled and unsatisfied, out of sorts. While I "hatched" into wakefulness, I thought about my life and realized I have the things I've wanted most in life. How much time we spend planning, strategizing, working towards, etc., and how little appreciating (or at least just soaking it in.)

This isn't the first time I've realized this, and I doubt it will be the last. But I still want it noted for the record: I'm happy. Things are good. I'm hopeful, and thankful.

And, tomorrow, I'll be sharpening my pencil to plot my next goals.

family comedy hour

2008-09-17T11:15:00.001-07:00

At the breakfast table this morning:

Dad: there were a lot of orientals¹ at the gym this morning.
Mum: you should tell her
Dad: no, YOU should tell her
maisnon: ??
LB1: What's funny is that you BOTH immediately know what you mean, riffing off of the gym thing.²
Mum: did you call and leave a message yesterday?
maisnon: Yes, when I was getting ready to head to the airport.
Dad: Well, when I came home from the gym, Mom said there was a message
Mum: .... I said some Chinese lady had left a message. In Chinese!
Dad: I listened to it and said, "No, that's [maisnon]!"
maisnon: WHA?! How in the world could I have sounded like I was speaking Chinese?

[entire family troops to answering machine]

maisnon (in recording): Hi, it's me. I'm leaving for the airport now. I'll see you in DEPARTURES at 8!

¹ Nice, Dad, nice.
² I suppose this is what happens when you've been married for nearly 40 years.

secret shame

2008-09-17T05:43:00.001-07:00

Until yesterday, I thought the name of the Bowie song was .... 'Sulfur Jet City.'

Yeah, I rock.

avion

2008-09-07T12:47:00.000-07:00

I'm finally, finally coming back to DC. I just booked tickets on Wirgin. (Dude, United, get with it price-wise or I'm going to break up with you!) I'm coming "home" for a week. I'm looking forward to some Mom-cooking, and seeing DC peeps. I'm a little ... concerned because both of my parents will be home. The whole time. My parents are wonderful people, and the funniest act around, but I can not be around them solidly for a week. That is unpossible.

Visiting DC is always a little dance, a delicate balance between spending time with my parents and with my friends. If I don't spend enough uninterrupted time with my parents, my mum gets a little passive-aggressively snippy about it. But, if I don't interrupt the time with friends, I lose my patience and my ability to deal.

I think I'm going to start a list of things I want to see and do while I'm there. Amsterdam Falafel/Tryst, cruise around my law school haunts, etc. etc. As always, I'm hoping that making a list moves me from anxiety to excitement.

temblor

2008-09-06T12:38:00.000-07:00

I was parked on the couch, reading something. I reached for a glass of water on the coffeetable and the windows started rattling. This isn't an unusual occurrence in my apartment, but my cat had "the look" .. and then the rattling lasted for too long. Earthquake, people. A minor one, but still. It basically feels like a REALLY big truck driving past your house, all rumbly. I put my hand on the wall to feel it and it was over.

I immediately IMd a friend, and .... twittered it. Then, I tried to find info on the quake. Nothing. I finally found the USGS site, which has a "Did you Feel It?" survey page. Tres cool! Apparently, the quake was a 4.0 centered in the East Bay. The survey page asks you a number of questions about where you were, what you felt, what you noticed, etc. When you submit your information, it gives you your rating of the magnitude of the quake in your 'hood, and what the USGS is rating it for your zipcode.

I can only feel this way because it was such a minor event, but, HOLYSHITTHATWASCOOL! It was a little jolt of excitement, a reminder that I live in an active area, that the world is bigger and more complex than you can imagine, and that things can change on a dime.

Fame!

2008-09-05T20:17:00.000-07:00

At my law school, there was one guy who was considered the most arrogant, and the most grating (and in a law school setting, that is really saying something.) He was a year ahead of me, and was part of the Law Review Board that welcomed me when I got onto law review. Well, the others welcomed me. What he had to say was essentially, "You are all just candidate members of the law review. The emphasis is on the word candidate - we're not afraid to say 'buh-bye'!" Then, he went into a moving speech about how much work it was going to be, and how we were going to have to prove our worth before we could move from being candidate members to the superexalted position of MEMBERS. I started calling him Debbie Allen behind his back because he reminded me of Debbie Allen in the opening to the television show "Fame!" The show was about the N.Y. School for the Performing Arts. In the opening sequence, Debbie Allen pounds a cane into the dance room floor and tells her students "You want fame? It starts right here!"

As I continued to work with 'Debbie Allen', I came to see just how annoying he could be. And that, somehow, I got along with him just fine. Finally, one day he was trying to give me shit about something, and I said to him, "Okay, fine .... DEBBIE ALLEN!"

There was a moment or two of open-mouthed silence as he looked at me. He finally said, "... are you calling me ..... BLACK?!?!?!"

Yes, because there's no question as to why, in the tens of millions of African Americans (let alone actual Africans), I chose a woman. Or someone who is most easily identified and associated with dance. Awesome.

So, here it is: the first episode of the show "Fame!" Check out that 80s wear!!

sing . song . sung

2008-09-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

The one thing I promised myself when I was laid-off from my stereotypically dot.com-era startup in 2003 was that I would never again make the mistake of populating my friendship circle exclusively with work peeps. I wouldn't say I made that mistake again, exactly, rather that it was unavoidable. With the hours I worked, and the unpredictability of my schedule, work peeps were the only people who understood, respected, and were willing to flex around my work schedule.

And now, I am revisiting some of the friendship-based heartache of 2003. On a logical level, I can be dispassionate about it: we all have lives, and priorities, etc. Not hearing from someone with whom you were once on a daily/hourly contact basis is just what happens when you're not in physical proximity anymore. But, emotionally, "out of sight, out of mind" stings.

I have wonderful, wonderful people in my life. And yet, I'm mourning my losses a little. I don't blame anyone, not even myself, for once. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to continually replace people in the circle as we outgrow our friendship, move, settle down, etc. So much effort. It's the friendship equivalent of kissing a lot of frogs. Realistically, that's probably how it is for a lot of people, but right now it smarts. I feel like I'm revisiting lessons and ideas I thought I had learned.

I locked you out/you cut a hole in the wall

2008-09-03T00:21:00.000-07:00

Conversation with a former coworker. Joe and I worked together circa 2000

Joe: Do you know this person? harish.majithiya

me: um, no

I assume you thought i might b/c he's indian

Joe: mmm. He wants to Chat with me???

Well....

yes

me: i don't

me: but agree to chat with him

and ask if he knows me :D

Joe: lol

Joe: oh, you think you're so funny!
me: some things never change!

labo(u)r day

2008-09-02T16:37:00.001-07:00

Labor Day - view from the roof, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Weekend update, y'all!

And, it's a LOOONG one! (Yes, my lame sense of humour knows no shame!)

Let's just hit the Labo(u)r Day BBQ. So, I'm not working. You wouldn't think a three day weekend would mean much to me, but ... it was really nice having my (working) friends around for an extra day It DID feel different, although it shouldn't.

I went to a party on a rooftop (at Cesar Chaves + Valencia), and that's the view you see here. The weather, to start, was absolutely perfect. And then ... it became a blustery day, Pooh. We had to fold down and remove the patio umbrella because there was a serious risk that it would make like Mary Poppins and fly away.

I got to hang out with a friend's fiance (he just moved to town), and a *very* recent transplant from DC (like, it was his first actual day in SF.) Listening to them talk about the things they left behind, and the things they are searching for here made me wonder about when we switch our "homes." When do you stop thinking of the last place you lived in as "home"? Is it when you open your front door and realize you can't remember the last 15 minutes? Is it when you think of something you want and you know just where to get it?

Finally, the blusteriness got the best of us, and we retreated in search of more friendly eats. (BBQs are notoriously harsh on the veg, pseudo-veg, and pescetarians.) We ended up at Beretta. Super-peppery arugula salad (food of liberals!), wine-stained risotto, and a pizza burrata. Delicious and totally all-American.

book covers

2008-09-01T11:15:00.000-07:00

I'm fascinated by David Drummond's Covers blog. Each post is a book cover Drummond designed, usually along with a few outtakes, and a brief explanation of the interaction between the design and the book. The blog appeals to me because I love books (of course!) and also because I've been indulging my interest in design.

Enjoy.

rush for the change of atmosphere

2008-08-28T00:26:00.001-07:00

I thought I would have this rush of energy and action after I quite my job. I mean, this wasn't a decision that snuck on me. I went through many phases, including what I called the "if I learned how to ski, I could be a ski instructor" phase. (Translation for those who don't me: absolutely, friggin' flailing about what I wanted to do next. Considering leaving The Law. Because, seriously, it takes more than a basic understanding of how to ski to become a ski instructor!) I thought that by committing to not doing this anymore, the "what happens next" would flow.

That was definitely my experience the last time I quit my job. Way back in 2000, I quit my job and within a week I had .... pruned the friendship tree, stopped seeing the guy I wasn't see anyway, acquired the beautiful Ms. Gia, and ... decided to take the LSATs and apply to law school. (And that decision definitely snuck up on me.) It was all just the most natural thing in the world - each of those thoughts and actions came to me so seamlessly - like bubbles rising to the surface of water.

So, I quit and I waited for the wave. And ... I'm still waiting. I have a good sense of what I want to do, but it seems, no "get up and go" to get it done anytime soon. And, I have to accept where I am. I've often found myself to be very objective-driven, and respecting the process often galls me. Thankfully, I'm old enough now to find my patterns and predilections amusing more than anything else. And right now, in this exact moment, I have to respect that I still have some processing, clearing, synthesizing, other action verb-ing to do before I'm ready to launch in another direction. I am the field lying fallow.

finale

2008-08-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

And it's done. I just quit my job. Without another lilypad to jump to.

I'm excited and, how you say, shit-scared.

Cue the fireworks.

vignette

2008-08-22T15:26:00.000-07:00

We somehow found ourselves away from the party, sitting on the floor under the dining table. Sitting on the floor, a jumble of knees and long legs, the three of us reminded me of girls - sneaking away from the adults to sip purloined wine and giggle over the grown-ups inscrutable interactions. On the bookcase near us, N spotted a section of books about trees and asked me to grab one. She flipped through it animatedly, offering commentary on some local flora. Then, she slammed it closed. Resting her hand upon its cover, she said, 'Okay, 5 favorite trees. GO!'

And in that moment, I loved her. And I loved the situation. I loved being holed up under the dining table, sneaking an arm up to grab goat-cheese stuffed dates. I loved N's intensity and sincerity in asking us (fellow 30-somethings) for our 5 favorite trees. It was this beautiful, incandescent moment of unexpected childhood.

.........

For the record, the 5 trees I chose off the top of my head were:

(1) Russian Olive - I love the contrast of the coloring between leaves and bark
(2) Gingko - it's a living fossil, yo!
(3) Eucalyptus - love the way it smells, even though it is bad if planted in areas where it is non-native
(4) Madrona
(5) The trees that make helicopters. And, yes, having taken botany in CANADA, I should have been able to remember that the trees that make helicopters are MAPLES.

Makeout King

2008-08-15T18:34:00.001-07:00

I loved this, and I hope you will too. (H/T Crooks and Liars.)

Magnetism, Part .... who even knows anymore

2008-07-30T23:06:00.000-07:00

So, a mere 6 months ago I purchased my first Mac (also known as My Precious.) And .. earlier this week, My Precious' hard drive bit the dust. Faithful readers may remember that this isn't the first time I've had mechanical problems. And, naturally, the backup drive that I had purchased arrived last week and hadn't been used yet.

The best part, for me, was when I picked up my laptop from the so-called Genius Bar and chica said "And since it's under warranty, you saved $320!!" I, of course, said "Uh, no - you sent out a product that BROKE and HARD within 6 months."

Will I trust My Precious again? Yes, I think so. Will I get on with using my backup drive? Hells yes. Game on!

Oh no they DI'INT!!!!

2008-07-23T22:57:00.000-07:00

I saw this sign while our shuttle got us lost in Redwood City/Menlo Park.

LadyPartsAuto.

Lady. Parts. Auto.

Tear.

Circular

2008-07-22T12:42:00.001-07:00

I'm a big fan of not closing the loop, apparently. BUT, I've decided to dot the i and cross the t.

My random meeting with bloggers extraordinaire was because I crashed one of the BlogHer parties. Yes, in true cheap-ass desi ish-tyle, I didn't pay for the conference, but managed to get on the invite list for the Guy Kawasaki/Kirsty party.

Behold - the largest paella in the world. Sadly, with my photography skeelz, this looks like I just macro'd in on it. Nope, it's truly truly ginormous.

We took a shuttle from the Westin St. Francis in the city ... all the way down to ..... 1 mile away from where I used to live. And thank god for that, really. Our shuttle got well and truly lost, and I was able to get us back on track ... and en route to largest paella and redonkulous swag bags!

Why You Should Never Come to Me For Advice or Commentary

2008-07-19T17:17:00.000-07:00

LittleBro: so i found out tonight that the girl i'm seeing has wrestled someone in jello

maisnon: hmmm.

wait, so have i

in high school

LittleBro: seriously?

maisnon: and not that much jello

i'm not sure that i did any actual wrestling

LittleBro: does the amount make any difference?

maisnon: i think we basically just threw it at each other

LittleBro: oh

alright

Clique

2008-07-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

So, y'all know about my obsession with all things Google, including Google Reader. (Although, truth be told, Google Maps has been fucking with me recently - in LA, the East Bay, and Daly City. All places where one does not need the fucking around.) I digress - I have my Google Reader divided into categories that work for me. A small sampling: desi, feminista, pollyannasunshine (i.e. all of the self-help, lifehack type blogs.)

I realized that I've been playing a little game with one of the categories. It is very simply named "people I know." Pretty basic. BUT, BUT - I get this ridiculous thrill from moving blogs from a different category (maybe misc, or fun) and into this one. (I even moved PostSecret after I went to a book reading and met Frank.) I also like it when I meet new peeps who have blogs and get to add them.

So, big announcement.... I met SJ of I, Asshole! And in my total blogcrush way, I managed to make her feel NOT AT ALL UNCOMFORTABLE by opening with "So, I haven't been, like, STALKING YOU..." Yeah, social skeelz - I have them. She was chillaxin with Squid. I managed to tell them a dating story that made both of their jaws drop simultaneously. I considered my work done. I also met Maggie of MightyGirl. I was even more teenage boy with her: "Um, I read your blog." Awkward Silence. Crickets. She was v. v. gracious, but man - I need to get some "I read your shit online" game.

I will write more about how/why these fabulous meetings took place. Just wanted to gloat that I get to move TWO blogs into my "people I know category", and ADD a new blog to it! World domination - here I come!

Overheard

2008-07-15T11:26:00.000-07:00

At the coffeshop, I overhear an older guy talking to a woman about her LARGE dog parked outside. She says that she is a rescue, and he turns to her and says, 'We're all rescues." He nods to his wife and continues, "There's my rescuer."

Sigh.

Shift

2008-07-06T23:22:00.001-07:00

She'd been telling me about her new guy for WEEKS, emphasizing how incredibly hot he was. Naturally, I was interested in meeting this outstanding physical specimen.

Let's just say that he is somewhat less than stunning. (And let's also say that she does NOT read this blog!) I was a little dumbfounded: my friend - my whipsmart, gorgeous, accomplished friend - had practically foamed at the mouth about this man's physical charms. And here he was, smiling and shaking my hand in the coffeeshop. I won't get into the flaws, but they were there, and not in a "the whole is greater than the sum of the parts" way that might have worked.

I sipped at my ice tea and watched them. She touched his hand when making a point, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. At some point during the hour, my icy surprise melted. It was all so sweet without being saccharine. He's super-gorgeous in her eyes because of their connection. I don't see it in him, but I don't have to. He makes her glow, and really, that's worth at least 2 points on the hotness scale.

Social commentary?

2008-06-25T23:47:00.000-07:00

I heard each of the following songs TWICE while driving around LA:

"Welcome to the Jungle" - GNR
"Midnight Train to Georgia" - Gladys Knight and the Pips ( LA proved too much for the man/ He couldn't make it/ So he's leaving the life he's come to know)
"Friends in Low Places" - Garth Brooks

And, yes - I listened to each one. In full. Twice.

Flower P*rn: Peony Edition

2008-06-24T22:44:00.000-07:00

Street scene

2008-06-21T00:19:00.000-07:00

San Franciscans are ridiculously weather wussy. If it's below 65 or above 80, we whine. Yes, that's right - there is a 15 degree sweet spot where the weather is just accepted. The weather today was above 90, which had me sniveling to my mother on the phone, "It's hooooooooot!" (And the irony of bitching about 90 degree heat to someone in DC's humidity is not lost on me.)

Tonight, I decided to wander down to the local ice cream shop about an hour before closing time. The air on the street was already 5 degrees cooler than my apartment. As I crossed the street, a neighbor's cat approached me for the standard feline greeting, winding between my ankles and rubbing her cheeks against my feet. Turning the corner, I could hear a party in an upstairs apartment, the music and laughter wafting down to me.

Unfortunately, when I reached the ice cream shop ... I discovered that every other resident of San Francisco had the same idea. I settled for Haagen Daz peach sorbet from the grocery store and headed home again. The party had settled down somewhat, but I heard a snippet from the movie another neighbor was watching. (I've been trying to place it ever since.) On my street, I saw a couple embrace, silhouetted by a lamp.

A neighborhood with all its windows and curtains thrown open, sacrificing privacy for the chance of a breeze. Madly, I felt so connected to everyone and everything.

pins'n'needles

2008-04-09T22:20:00.001-07:00

pins'n'needles, originally uploaded by hradcanska.

Yes.

I tried it.

And I'm here to write about it.

As those who have been keeping up with me in person/via email/Twitter/gchat, etc. know, I have been MEGA-plagued with allergies this season. Like, worst ever. Like, can't sleep through the night. I'm stumbling around like I have a newborn, but no - I just have snot.

Not coo', yo, not coo'

I finally faced the fact that my allergies weren't going to turn the corner and get better. I went to my doc and got a prescription for a steroidal nasal spray that I'm supposed to use every day. From Feb. through July. Every year.

Yeah. I won't even take Advil if my head is not splitting open, so that didn't sit very well with me. While I have the sprayer as a back-up if necessary, I decided it was time to explore acupuncture. I read a book about it (well, about Chinese Medicine generally) and I've wanted to try it. Except, you know, for that whole fear of needles thing.

Step 1: Find an Acupuncturist
I used a combo of yelp and my insurance's "alternative roads" provider list. (That may not actually be the gag-inducing name, but it was something pretty close.)

Step 2: Consultation part of the Appointment
Making an appointment was painless once I actually decided to do it. My acupuncturist sat down and asked me a number of questions about my symptoms, about my health generally, and about my diet. Then, I hopped up on the table (a massage table) and she felt my pulse(s) and had a look at my tongue. From my tongue alone, she told me A LOT about my general constitution. It was kinda creepy, and kinda cool.

Step 3: Needles!
I had 15 needles. FOR REALZ! Actually, let's back up. The needles are NOT what you're thinking of: they are not hollow, so they are thinner than any of the ones you've had during injections. Having one inserted is like .... pressing your fingernail against your skin. You know it's there, you feel a bit of a pinch, but it isn't really painful. (And I'm not saying that in the "this won't hurt a bit" way - it really doesn't hurt.)

She opened the package of unused needles in front of me and then... the placement. I had a needle between my eyebrows, 2 on either side of my nose, 3 down each arm (sort of elbow-ish, wrist-ish, webbing between thumb and ring finger-ish), and 2 on each foot (ankle bone and top of foot.)

Once the needles were in, I rested on the table for 1/2 hour. I think I drifted off, or pretty close to it, a few times. She removed all the needles and I hopped off the table.

And was able to breathe through my nose. This is HUGE.

just .... no.

2008-04-08T22:43:00.001-07:00

10:31 PM vijay8680: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

can we chat?

10:32 PM bussyyyyyy ????????????

maisnon: do i know you?

vijay8680: no

can we know eachother ?

friends ???

maisnon: um, no thank you

10:33 PM vijay8680: why ????????

memento

2008-04-02T23:45:00.000-07:00

I found that little toy you gave me. You know - the inside joke? I sat there and held it and thought of you. Not even you, really, more like memories of the things we did, and the places we went. Meals shared, glasses of wine, laughs shared. I felt sadder by the second because it's all so firmly in the past.

But then I realized I was romanticizing it all: I don't miss you, exactly. I miss the you I thought you were. And that, sadly, never really existed.

no wonder I loved it ....

2008-04-01T22:36:00.001-07:00

Place d'Armes - courtyard, originally uploaded by maisnon.

New Orleans is one of the two most ingrown, self-obsessed little cities in the United States. (The other is San Francisco.)

- Nora Ephron

the big easy

2008-03-27T10:24:00.001-07:00

Look out - I am en route!

55 Fiction Friday: Haiku table edition

2008-03-21T18:38:00.000-07:00

Friday worked at a dot.com back in the day, and had a table that it adorned with haikus written by coworkers. A selection:

Goth club
black black black black black
black black black black black black black
black black black black black

dreaded 404
error: cannot find page
the web is not mine

billy dee, muse
Oh, Colt 45
divine amber pungent brew
Sooth my ailing soul.

Fishing is alright
But you mostly just stand there.
I guess you could sit.

Pedestrian

2008-03-20T10:44:00.001-07:00

J.M. Fischer sign, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Weekend update, y'all!

My Saturdays are more-or-less spoken for right now: I am doing Hike for Discovery, a fundraising/training program through the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. This means I get up WAAAAY early Saturday morning, drive somewhere beautiful, and them tromp over hill and dale. And take photos. Then, I get in a car and drive home and walk gingerly during the afternoon.

This has affected my Sundays as well. My recent pattern has been to make brunch plans in the Mission, cab in, and then take the long way home. I get in, usually, 2 miles of walking and the soreness works itself out. I've also discovered the absolute flattest path between the Mission and my apartment. Necessity is the mother of a lot of things, people!

This Sunday, helas, I had no brunch plans. Instead, I had BOOK CLUB! This is the book club I started on craigslist. Basically, I posted an ad seeking other people interested in a book club meeting in Noe Valley/Mission coffeeshops and reading fiction. Sunday was our third meeting. (We previously read The Yiddish Policemen's Union, and no one made it through The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano.) (More about Book Club in a future post.)

I want to focus on one small thing that happened at Book Club: we were gathering around a table, and I said that one person who had RSVP'd had yet to arrive. Emily pulled out a book and said "I hope it's Alex because I have her book." I said, "Oh! You know Alex?!" (Alex had not been able to make the prior meetings.) Emily said that she had been at the bookstore on 24th after our last meeting looking for A Thousand Splendid Suns (March's book) and found it waaaaay up high on a shelf. When she went to get the ladder, another woman was also moving it over. They joked that they had better not be trying to get the same book , ha ha! Which, of course, they were. Because they are in the same book club. Without having met before.

LOVE IT!

On the way home, satisified with intellectual chat and the promise of more books in the future, I took the photo I've been wanting to take for days. This sign was uncovered as a work crew renovated a little spot on the corner.

shrinkage

2008-03-18T17:06:00.000-07:00

And the world gets a little smaller, still. (carteblanche is a law school friend who lives in SF.)

carteblanche: it's nice that roonie is back.
maisnon: um, you do know that roonie is in real life one of my best friends, right?
carteblanche: She is? Really?
maisnon: are we talking about the same one? (is there more than one?)
carteblanche: Is she ... ahhm... dare I ask - cute?
maisnon: yes .....
carteblanche: damn
maisnon: but wait, this can't be right - how do you know her? i.e. in what context/which blog?
maisnon: b/c I don't think MY roonie has posted pics?
carteblanche: Texas law grad?
maisnon: so, phew, not my roonie
carteblanche: ahh bummer
maisnon: (although my roonie is a law grad, and currently lives in TX)
carteblanche: well, you're on roonie’s blog roll.
carteblanche: wait - geezohpetes.
maisnon: uh oh, is it getting weird again?
YES
carteblanche: yes
maisnon: that is my very good friend
carteblanche: she rocks

..........

maisnon: do you mind if I blog part of our convo ?
I can change your name (to anything you'd like, even.)
carteblanche: Sure, whatever you want.
maisnon: oh - carte blanche!
carteblanche: LOL. As long as I don't look like an ass.
maisnon: I may just go with carteblanche
maisnon: man, I have a weird sense of humour

pb & j

2008-03-16T23:29:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, I was making myself a peanut butter & jelly sandwich and realized that I was using two knives: one for the PB and one for the J. Growing up, we rarely -- if ever -- had peanut butter in the house. Some of this is the typical "we're Indian, we didn't grow up eating cheese" thing, but most of it is because my little brother has peanut allergies. Using two knives on the rare, rare occasion of having peanut butter in the house was a way to limit the contamination of the jelly. I can remember just how illicit it felt, sliding the knife into the peanut butter and it's exact heft. The texture as it was spread against the bread.

But, in my kitchen, with the light making patterns on the floor, I didn't need two knives. In two and a half years of living here, my little brother has visited me once. During which time he consumed exactly zero jelly.

I looked at the two handles sticking out from similar brightly colored jars. I'm continuing and propagating old, vestigial habits. It's not that the double knife technique is a jarring interruption (other than washing an extra knife, it's meaningless.) I'm just feeling.... Thoreau-esque: I want to live awake.

55 Fiction Friday: three point one four edition

2008-03-14T18:51:00.000-07:00

Friday thanks ashvin for the reminder that it today is Pi Day.

Joni warbled over the bar's scratchy stereo system about the Northern Star being constantly in the darkness. I swallowed the last of my beer, and thought of Juliet proclaiming that Romeo should not swear by the inconstant moon. Those chicas had it right: promises on astral bodies are romantic, but I'll take my constants mathematical.

silver & gold

2008-03-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

Email from a new friend:

I decided to get a new cell phone. Here's the new #
415-255-5372

Notice how every non area code digit is prime....

Oh man, I loves me the math geeks!

(number changed, naturellement)

in absentia

2008-03-12T16:11:00.000-07:00

I've stuck to the blogging rule that nothing is more boring than being all meta and writing about blogging. And yet, I've violated that rule often. And I'm doing so again. I took a solid break from blogging for a number of reasons, some of which I can't talk about. (Yes, this is a reference to my alterna-life as a superspy.)

But, I've been missing it. I've had these moments, thoughts, experiences and wanted to share them. I've written a dozen blogposts in my mind. I've taken photographs and thought about how they could help me tell a story. But, the longer you stay away the weirder and more daunting it seems to come back, to start again.

I missed the friendships I've made through blogging. Three years later, many of my original readers (and the writers of the OG blogs I followed) are still my v. good friends. I think that golden age of blog friendships may be over, but I'd like to think that type of connection is still possible. I miss the small thrill of getting comments. I miss a lot of things.

That is all to say... I'm back, bitchez!

the paris of the prairies

2008-03-09T21:45:00.001-07:00

I had this quintessential moment of connection and I need to share it. About three weeks ago, I was at this Tiny Mexican Joint in the Mission. (Hereinafter, TMJ.) The food was great, and I totally vibed with the waitress. We ended up talking about this little tattoo that she had on her arm that a friend had done for her. She wanted to tweak it, and I recommended going to Body Manipulations on 16th Street where I had recently had my nose ring swapped out. A lot of piercing/tattoo places are pretty disdainful if you aren't all "modded" up, but the people here were great - super helpful and (important!) great sterile technique. (Which didn't really affect me as I wasn't getting something pierced - but it's GOOD to see!)

Then, last weekend, I was waiting for a bunch of people to meet up for brunch at Luna Park (catty corner across the street from TMJ. The organizer told me that he wanted to have brunch there next time. I raved about the food and the waitress.

After brunch, I wandered over to Body Manipulations to get my nosering tweaked. That process took about 2 minutes, and I walked out of the back room .... and there was the waitress! We did the whole "OMIGOD!!!" hug thing, and then had to follow it up with "Wait .... what's your name?" Hilarious. As it turns out, she wasn't even there for herself. The friend that she was having brunch with asked to stop by to get something looked at.

I can't get over the coincidence of it all - 5 minutes either way, and I would never have run into her!

(And, yes, we exchanged info - she's clearly meant to be my new BFF!)

roses really smell like ....

2008-02-23T16:33:00.000-08:00

I bought my mother roses for her birthday. The Jedi master's response: "You shouldn't have. When you kids spend money on me, I feel sad."

AAAAANNNNND.......SCENE!!

Name check!

2008-02-01T04:04:00.000-08:00

Virginia patriot George Mason gets name checked on A Daily Show!

Birfday!

2008-01-17T16:23:00.001-08:00

Bonne Année!

2008-01-01T10:14:00.001-08:00

Gia, backlit, originally uploaded by maisnon.

I love this picture of Gia that I took yesterday. She's gorgeous, of course. But, I also love her "expression" - and how you can see the lynx-hairs at the tops of her ears.

So, Happy New Year, y'all! I have been doing my usual analysis and consideration of the year past, concomittant with planning and strategizing for the upcoming year.

One thing that I know I want is to be more organized and productive. That is something that I intend to write about here. (I'll come up with a tag for it - and then if it bores you, you can avoid it.) Why is this one of big goals for 2008? Well, similar to when I studied for the Bar exam, I find that my attention span is pretty shot. It's not even attention, it's my doing span. It's only with great difficulty that I can stay completely focused and on task for more than 15 minutes. I know that this is something that I can improve.

There are so many things that I want to do, and see, and try, etc. Being more organized would make me more productive, and give me more time, as well. My first step was to purchase the eBook Zen to Done, which I am now reading. It is a variation on David Allen's (in)famous Getting Things Done. I own that book, and really tried to make it work for me - but it just didn't. This system seems much more my speed. In particular, it stresses adopting/changing one habit a month - something that I experimented with this year, and enjoyed. I'm very excited - in a year, I'll be (finally! finally!) organized.

Wham! - Last Christmas

2007-12-24T15:25:00.001-08:00

Ah! My favorite (non)Christmas song for Christmas Eve.

trichomania

2007-12-05T17:47:00.001-08:00

Minus..., originally uploaded by maisnon.

Have you ever noticed that your hair looks AWESOME two days before your scheduled hair cut?

55 Fiction Friday (Early): Contagion edition

2007-11-29T13:41:00.000-08:00

Friday spent some quality time with DTG.

Almost immediately, we were laughing to the point of tears. So hard, in fact, that the people near us on the crowded train started smiling. That level of laughter - double over, and hold your sides - spreads insidiously, those nearby don't even know what's funny, but the corners of their mouths tip up regardless.

notable

2007-11-27T10:43:00.001-08:00

The New York Times has published its 100 Notable Books of 2007. And I have read exactly zero of them.

Initially, I was shocked. Then, I remembered that I no longer shop at bookstores. Everything I read comes from the library (and, on occasion, friends.) I was much more "up-to-date" with the latest novel to come out when I frequented Borders.

So, new project (and you know how I love me my projects): read through the 2007 list. (Or, at least, the 50 novels - I'm not a huge fan of nonfiction.)

First one up: The Yiddish Policemen's Union, by Michael Chabon. Chabon wrote one of my fave books: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.

knitwit

2007-11-12T18:36:00.000-08:00

I'm (re)learning how to knit! I tried to (re)teach myself last year, but did not get very far. (Mostly because of Gia's enthusiastic "assistance.") I will be taking a class at my local knitting shop. I went in over the weekend to pick up supplies.

superhelpful shopchick: Now you need needles.....bamboo or plastic?
maisnon: ??
shopchick: Well, are you a tightly wound personality, or loose-y-goosey?
maisnon: Tightly wound.
(shopchick selects plastic needles)
maisnon: Now, I immediately want to say "But, I'm not REALLY tightly wound"
shopchick: .... proving that you are, of course.

it's all good in the 'hood

2007-11-04T21:06:00.001-08:00

Wheelbarrow put to use, originally uploaded by maisnon.

I'm lovin' my 'hood right now.

I started writing something with too much detail, all about the two dogs named Ollie, the coffeeshops, and the potential friendships.

You don't need to tell a story to tell a story: I'm happy here. I see the possibilities. I like the pulse. It's working for me.

spooky

2007-10-31T13:42:00.000-07:00

wt: Are you coming over to watch scary movies?
maisnon: Yes, but, um ... I'm really bad at scary movies.
wt: Let's pick some that aren't then, "Dawn of the Dead"?
maisnon: Hmm, maybe. How about "Dead Again"? Or "Diabolique"
wt: Possible.
maisnon: Or we could go old skool and watch "Silence of the Lambs."
wt: OR....how about America's Next Top Model?
maisnon: Omigod, YES! Because, seriously, who is scarier than Tyra?

peel me a grape

2007-10-21T12:27:00.000-07:00

A friend, describing dinner with a mutual friend, told me that he had ordered dessert for his "not girlfriend." Knowing exactly which dessert someone says something about the relationship, she said.

I thought about that later, about how I could tell you exactly how most of my male friends order their coffee, which ones have a sweet tooth, etc. Then again, I think male-female friendships are very different depending on which person you are in the relationship.

Recently, I was at brunch with castaña. At the end of the meal, she asked me for some lip shit. With some hesitation, I passed her the Sherry Baby (Origins) lipstick I had in my purse. (Hesitation because, while sheer, it's pretty intense for a Sunday afternoon ... um, for a white person.) She looked at it a little askance and said, "No, the other lip gloss that you carry in your purse." I rooted around and found the Mimosa (Philosophy) lip gloss I do always carry, but I was a little distracted. It stunned me a little to be that predictable, that known. It thrills me a little, but it also freaks me out and makes me want to take off in new and unexpected directions.

(As an aside, how do you get a job naming makeup shades?)

still.life

2007-10-15T20:04:00.001-07:00

Still life, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Weekend update, y'all!

It's been weeks (months?) since I've written one! My life is still as hectic and glamorous as ever. Evidence: Friday night, I headed to IKEA with one of the new associates. Don't be jealous, I know my life is just too sexxy!

Saturday involved ... putting together the dining table. I know, the party just don't STOP! I headed to wt's for a par-tay. Actual social interaction, bestill my heart!

Sunday involved booting around team with my Bar Support Team^tm. I've made mention of castaña and her mother before. Her mom was in town because one of her watercolors won a prize from the California Watercolor Association, and that painting is in a show at the Presidio. We met for brunch then headed over to the show. The Presidio is an odd little throwback, like entering Pleasantville - a small slice of the 1950s. We headed back to castaña's place and watched "30 Rock." Dude, I have such a girl crush on Tina Fey. She's so smart, and funny, and pretty - I wish she were my friend. Sigh.

Humor: We met up with friend's of castaña's mum and went to dinner at
Henry's Hunan. When it came time to order, the person to my right selected the dish I had planned on ordering. I hemmed and hawed for 0.2 seconds, and the waitress decided I needed a suggestion. What did she suggest? Yes, that's right the chicken "curry." Because what else would the Indian girl want at a Hunan restaurant?

The spaces in the weekend were filled with watching Prison Break. Wentworth Miller joins my legion of boyfriends. The hott++

And that concludes my weekend, back to our regularly scheduled programming!

Welcome to the Ministry

2007-10-11T14:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Rev. maisnon,

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

This is to confirm that maisnon has been ordained as a minister of theUniversal Life Church, Modesto, California. Date of Ordination: 10/11/2007 by Kevin Andrews, Pastor www.ulc.net

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

Ordination is for life, without price, and without question of your specific beliefs. You do not need to pay any tithe, donation, or offering of any kind, now or in the future.P lease note that you have NOT been ordained "by Internet" or "online." The Universal Life Church is a "regularly established church or congregation" and all ordinations are done as the deliberate, thoughtful, and responsible act of a human being, not by a computer.

Universal Life Church ordination is not limited to the officiation of marriage. This is an important distinction, as in some jurisdictions, ministers who are ordained for the sole purpose of officiating marriage are not authorized by the state to officiate marriage in those jurisdictions. As a minister, you are authorized by the church to perform all peaceful rites and ceremonies of the church, including weddings, funerals, baptisms, blessings, and to preach, teach and hold meetings. Prior to conducting any civil ceremony (such as marriage), you should know and comply with the laws pertaining to your area of jurisdiction.

You are entitled to all privileges and courtesies normally offered to members of the clergy.

Your commitment is to always do the right thing. It is your responsibility to peacefully and sincerely determine the right course of action, and to avoid infringing on the rights of others.

..........

DUDE! I'm ordained and shit!

So, uh, I'm available for weddings, and meetings, and such.

Sha/LANGE! *

2007-10-05T15:53:00.000-07:00

I've spent some time looking at a website called DonorsChoose, which enables teachers throughout the country to write brief requests for funding and put them on the internet. The majority of the schools affected are in areas of low-income.

The site allows people surfing the site to donate money to these projects. You can spread your money across different projects, or choose to fund one project. I found a number of projects that I wanted to donate to, and thought that I could share it with my (three) readers. I have set up a "challenge" through the website. I would like to raise $2,500 for a number of projects at schools in the SF-area.

Some of the requests are heartbreakingly simple, and others show exactly how determined teachers are to provide the best possible start to their young charges. If you would like to donate, please click on the link above, or the comically large thermometer on the left-side of the page. If you feel so moved, please share with friends.

^* - One of my favorite "Cosby Show" episodes featured Mr. Huxtable breakin' it DOWN, tap-dance "style" with Rudy's tap teacher. (The latter REALLY knew how to dance!)

Leonine

2007-09-27T12:01:00.001-07:00

Leonine, originally uploaded by maisnon.

The settling in has been really slow. Right now, I'm still unpacking clothes. This isn't a statement on how little I've done, but more on how many freakin' clothes I have. I'll admit, it's a bit of a problem. I like to think of myself as not materialistic (or, perhaps more accurately, not that materialistic.)

I am drawn to disparate things: I love modern design - the simple, spareness of it (oh, my love for IKEA could fill ... an IKEA-sized space), but I also love collage/mixed media/and juxtaposition.

Unpacking has been oddly joyful: finding all of the little treasures tucked away that you don't use on a daily basis. The fun, really, is in remembering how objects came into your possession. I have a pink "pashmina" (you know I'm too cheap for the real thing!) that I purchased in Barcelonal I bought it outside of the Sagrada Familia from a cart. Passing my hand over it, I smiled remembering the endless, sleepless train trip from Barcelona to Granada, and tromping around the Albaycin in my shawl.

I love buying clothing while traveling. There is a sweet moment of remembrance every time you wear the item. I have a tank top that reminds me of running through a rain shower in Costa Rica, and earrings that take me right back to Fort Kochi when they jingle.

I think I've made peace with my pseudo-packratish self. I don't need things, exactly, but I certainly enjoy them.

55 Fiction Friday: TrapperKeeper edition

2007-09-27T11:24:00.000-07:00

Friday knows that writing is therapy.

The next line was printed in bold felt pen and underlined: "NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME!!!!!!!!!!!" A few small smudges at the bottom of the page suggested tears. She felt sympathy for her 13-year old self, and a sense of loss – she had much more control now, but would she ever feel things that deeply again?

wandering star

2007-09-24T14:15:00.000-07:00

We'd just had a networking Happy Hour and, as always, I was struck by how accomplished and ambitious the people who surround me are. It had been an evening of animated conversation, business cards slipped across tables, and fast and furious Blackberry-ing.

The crowd thinned out and I sat and talked to two women. Oddly, I found myself talking about Tibetan refugees in India, and how Tibetan parents send their children through mountain passes, often by themselves, so that they can reach the Dalai Lama's schools in northern India. I thought about how bad things must be for you to risk sending your children through such a dangerous trek, and how much better you must think the possibilities are.

And then, sipping my over-priced imported beer, I thought about my life. Not about how easy I have it (and in the grand scheme of things, I really do), but how my drumbeat of "I want" is so preposterous. I have more than enough of the things that count, and a lot of things that are 'icing', too. Someone once said that happiness isn't having what you want, it's wanting what you have. And, at least briefly, I really get that.

Overheard in the Mission

2007-09-18T08:57:00.000-07:00

Corner of Valencia and 21st:

"Wait, so was it a nightmare for hipsters ... or were there a lot of hipsters?"

Candy, everybody wants

2007-09-14T11:48:00.001-07:00

"Exotic", originally uploaded by maisnon.

Nothing is more boring on a blog than the apology/explanation for why the person hasn't been posting. It's one of the things (along with bitching about traffic, and writing about work) that I had hoped never to do. And yet....

I haven't been writing for the best reason of all. I've been incredibly, busily happy. Things are snap, crackle, and popping at work, and on the social scene. I've been gleefully marching around the city (note to self: invest in some non-ballet slipper, somebody-help-an-arch out shoes!), noshing at local eateries, and having small dogs gaze deep into my soul.

Here and Somewhere Else

2007-09-05T15:18:00.001-07:00

Chinese Fishing Nets, originally uploaded by maisnon.

The other day, a new friend wanted me to explain my family's history to a small group as some sort of icebreaker. I balked, but not out of embarassment, or any ill will. I know that other people hear the tale, with its cast of characters comprised of countries and continents, and think my family cosmopolitan, or intriguing. I can understand that - my family members have been born into, learned and lost so many languages.

Non-desis look at "the brown" and think, "Indian", not realizing that that can also mean Fijian, Guyanese, Dutch, South African, Malaysian, etc. Even desis, it seems, expect a fairly linear progression from "there" to "here" (possibly with the obligatory stop in Merry Olde England.)

Like hair texture and parents, we always want what we don't have. I spent a good part of my childhood visiting my father's far-flung siblings, and I'm so lucky to have had that opportunity. But, what I wouldn't have given to grow up with my cousins, to feel a part of a larger family. I always felt like my little nuclear family group was the American branch, as isolated as a lunar colony.

I have a passive understanding of Malayalam. This means that I can, for the most part, understand spoken Malayalam, but I can't produce any. It requires some very deliberate effort for me to find the words. Also, while I will understand a conversation about cleaning the kitchen, I'll get completely lost if it is about something theoretical or abstract. I understand "house Malayalam." And, as I discovered while traveling south India last year, it's heavily tempered with Tamil.

I wonder what it would have been like to grow up around family: would my Malayalam be better? Would someone have insisted I speak it? (I once asked my mother why she never taught us Hindi (my father, the Malaysian, never learned it.) She said, 'For Heaven's sake, why would you want to know HINDI?!" Um, because it might be a little more useful than being able to understand you yelling at me to do the laundry in Malayalam??)

Writing this, I feel ungrateful - and I'm not. I'm glad that dim sum and pisang goreng are family food. When I recognize a word in Arabic, the mental translation is in French because I took Arabic lessons in French. I'm not ungrateful, but I am wistful.

nourriture

2007-09-04T16:34:00.001-07:00

Seaweed salad - closeup, originally uploaded by maisnon.

A few little threads are pulling together for me:

(1) The apartment is coming along ... slowly, slowly. I have an eat-in kitchen rather than a dining room. For some reason, this makes me want to have people over. I can nearly picture a guest sitting at the (non-existent) dinner table telling me a story, as I pull something out of the (not-yet-christened) oven.

(2) I just finished reading "You're Not You." First of all, RECOMMEND. Second, cooking plays a large part in it. I'm a big fan of the right level of description, and here we get Steinbeck-style description of food, rather than of locale.

(3) I think I'm sick of eating predominately from the Trader Joe's food group. Trader Joe's will always be my homie, but I want more. I miss the process: the washing, chopping, measuring, mixing, sauteing, roasting, etc. etc. I miss taking things from raw ingredients to plated items.

I used to be a very decent cook, and I think I could be again.

one-liner

2007-08-31T17:32:00.000-07:00

Off the mark, but still depressing.

Cabbie (picking me up at the SF office at midnight): So, are you a lawyer or an investment banker?

55 Fiction Friday: Don Ho edition

2007-08-24T14:55:00.000-07:00

Friday feels the fizzy.

How did they work, exactly: the tiny bubbles in the wine. Somehow the effervescence acted as some kind of social lubricant, increasing friendliness, forbearance, and frivolity. The distinctive pop of the bottle was a clear signal – like a checkered flag lowering – that good times were starting. She took a sip and felt her shoulders drop.

definition

2007-08-23T16:30:00.000-07:00

maisnon --
[noun]:

A beat poet working the streets

'How" will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Lovefool

2007-08-22T15:29:00.001-07:00

The moment I heard the first few notes, I started smiling. It brought up a memory so clear and complete, I could feel it like a mint under my tongue. FunDan, Godoy, and I - all dressd up after a semi-formal at one of the cheeziest bars in town (Cocamo, for those familiar with K-town.)

FunDan threw his tie over one shoulder, and was dancing with his eyes closed. Godoy sipped his beer and, as usual, was blissfully unaware of the stir he created amongst the womens. Jaw-droppingly beautiful and clueless - an endearing combination.

At that moment, I felt such love for them. Like a reverse-Grinch, I could feel my heart growing three sizes bigger. I love those moments, where the friends are being charming, and you have enough space to observe and enjoy them. As often as people disappoint me - and they do - there are moments, brief blips of time, where individuals shine with their own light.

"high-powered attorney"

2007-08-13T13:20:00.000-07:00

I finally watched You Got Served enough times to spot the (former) Mr. Britney Spears.

The clearest shot of K-Fed is at the very end of the movie, when the dance *battle* is over, and Wade's crew is all, "you ain't nothin'": K-Fed is the rat-like guy in the white T doing the dismissive arm wave.

a loaf of bread, some olive oil

2007-08-11T12:37:00.001-07:00

a loaf of bread, some olive oil, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Yesterday? The out and back to LA? Comedy of errors. It was one of those "what could go wrong ... did" days.

(1) Knew my flight was ridiculously early, therefore. Could NOT sleep - up on the hour, every hour

(2) Arrived at the airport 40 minutes before my flight. No luggage, no worries, right? Wrong. They've changed the cut-off to 45 minutes. Crap. Put on the next flight which would get me there 1 hour late for my meeting.

(3) That flight sat on the tarmac for another 45 minutes. Now, 2 hours late for meeting.

(4) But the small matter of the line at the Hertz counter in Burbank airport. Spend 30 minutes in line. Do not pass "GO" do not collect $200.

(5) Arrive at client's.....old address! They moved about 3 blocks away. Consider just chucking the whole thing in, as I am now 2.5 hours late. (In fairness, the partner stayed in LA the night before and has been attending the meeting the whole time.)

(6) Leaving the client's CORRECT address, come really, really close to an accident in the parking garage. I had to lay on the horn to prevent a pick-up truck from backing into me. So close, in fact, that the parking attendant volubly comments on the closeness as I leave the garage.

(7) The partner told me to follow him on the highway, rather than use the directions I had printed out. (Anything to avoid the 5!!) This would have been fine, had he not swerved to make his exit. Which, due to the timing, did not become my exit. Watch him make "OMIGOD! SORRY!" faces as he drives away.

(8) Take the scenic tour, including Hertz NeverLost GPS technology telling me to "PLEASE PROCEED TO HIGHLIGHTED ROUTE!" Um, aren't you supposed to TELL me HOW to get there?

(9) Called United and was told there was no chance of getting on an earlier flight.

Around (4), I decided to just see the humor in the whole thing. No amount of being annoyed/angry/frustrated was going to change the tenor of the day.

So, I decided to treat myself to a relaxing meal (since I had a few hours to kill.) I called ILTSAE and asked her about her old 'hood, which is sorta near the airport. She recommended Roberto's for its great bread. (Let's keep in mind that ILTSAE was at an important "I could get a job here!!!" conference in CO and I kept calling her re: directions. That's the kind of rockstar friend I am!)

She was not kidding. The bread (and the olive oil) were awesome and just so comforting and relaxing. The teenager who seated me (the owner's son, I think) came and chatted with me about my shawl. He told me that he's Persian, and he had a teacher who was Indian last year. And how much he liked her, and how similar the cultures are. Etc., etc. He was so sweet.

The caponata was amazing, and my new friend brought me chai, and 'namasate'd as he left. I was thick into a Carl Hiassen novel that I had purchased due to my lengthy delay that morning. (Hiassen's novels all take place in Florida. Between my exhaustion, lack of sleep, and voracious reading - I spent the whole day feeling like I was in Miami, rather than LA.)

Feeling much, much better, I dropped off the rental car, took the shuttle to my terminal. Where I found that (10) My 8 pm flight to SF had been delayed to 9:30. BUT (BUT), I somehow managed to get on the 7:20 pm flight (which left close to 8, but who's counting?)

When I finally made it home, I crawled into bed and slept for 12 hours.

blanket

2007-08-09T13:24:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've been yelled at off and on all week. Oh wait, that would be because I've been yelled at off and on all week. Not by coworkers (thanggod!), but by opposing counsel and random irate people.

Although you can logically understand that you shouldn't take something personally (for example, when the irate yeller is using thinly veiled racist innuendo), but it still stings. I'm not rubber, even if you're glue. Things are not bouncing off me (and sticking to you.) Not entirely, anyway.

I need some comfort and quiet. A warm soft bed with white sheets. Hot chocolate with marshmallows (and not the creepy, crunchy ones in Swiss Miss). Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Shouldn't I have this? Shouldn't I have all of this and more? But will I? No. Instead, I have an out-and-back trip to LA tomorrow, and a weekend of finishing the move out of the old apartment (including introducing Ms. Gia to the new digs.) Am I being a whiny little bitch? Yes, I am. But if you can't sip a glass of whine on your own blog, then wtf?

This is the crazybusy, hurricane phase. I know it will pass, and sooner than I think. And then - then, my friends, I will sip my hot chocolate in my white, white bed.

breathe in/ breathe out

2007-08-05T18:40:00.000-07:00

Well, the move is "over" in that the boxes are all over the new apartment. It's only beginning in terms of the unpacking, and the figuring out where things are in the new 'hood. (I also have odds and ends to do in the old apartment.

I'm not striking out on my own to say I hate moving. And that opinion hasn't changed. This move was comparatively minor to the last one (moving from DC to the Bay Area), but it was still stressful. I find myself thinking 5 steps, 3 hours, or 2 days ahead of where I actually am. I've had to consciously slow down and concentrate on the exact task at hand. There's something between sweating every detail and throwin up your hands and saying, "And a miracle happens, and it all gets done."

I'm working on that balance: healthy pessimism allowing for Plan B strategy, and enough optimism to make things relatively painless.

poly

2007-08-02T15:51:00.000-07:00

Why I love my coworkers, part .... who's even keeping track anymore?

To: maisnon
Re: August 11

We'd like to have you over for dinner at our place. If you have a significant other(s), please feel free to bring him/her along. If you have more than one bring the best looking one, um... No, the funniest one.

in vino veritas

2007-07-31T01:07:00.000-07:00

Hello from K&L Wine Merchants (KLWines.com)

We wanted to let you know the status of your order. Your order is ready for pickup.

I just ordered wine on the internet. My life as I know it is over.

(If you're interested, this is what I bought: 2005 Klinker Brick "Old Vine" Lodi Zinfandel; 2004 Hitching Post "Purisima Mountain" Santa Ynez Syrah)

the bars can not hold me

2007-07-30T23:44:00.000-07:00

the Guild, originally uploaded by maisnon.

So. Less than a week until I move. When I started this, I thought, "Moving is always hell, and the hell stretches and fills all the time you have. You may as well condense it down." And, for the most part, this strategy has worked.

One of the best parts about NOT being a student, is being able to pay for movers. The Mighty volunteered to help me move, but her eyes were pleading, "Please don't say yes!" I volunteered to just buy her pizza and beer and pretend that she'd helped me.

I'd like to think that I'm more into experiences that I am into things, but the number of boxes I have cluttering my apartment at this moment would prove that to be a lie. How? Why? No idea. I'm culling as much as I can - and THAT's the thing that has suffered with the express move. I think, given more time, I would have done a more thorough job on the "slash and burn" (translation: trash and Goodwill.)

This weekend, I was at my fabulous threader, and another of her clients thought that we were mother and daughter (a huge compliment to me!) Also, this weekend, I walked down the block to get sushi and snapped this photo of "my" movie theater. There are things I'm leaving. To keep me juiced and moving forward on the move, I've kept my eye on the future: restaurants I want to check out, routines I want to establish, ideas I have. I haven't taken the time to appreciate the things, people, and places that I'm leaving behind.

Maybe that's a good thing. I have a tendency to get pouty and draggy in the face of change - even if I'm moving towards something I want. The situation being what it is, I'm hoping that I'll hit nostalgia and longing when I'm already enjoying the pleasures of my new home.

stereoimage

2007-07-24T17:32:00.000-07:00

I've wanted to write about turning the corner in the hope that what I've realized might help someone else. Distilling it down, it is this: when you realize that it is broken, when you give up the idea that you have to (or even CAN) fix it - there is release and such freedom. Things that were unbearable suddenly aren't. Where you had no space and no distance, you have insta-perspective. The claustrophobia dissipates, and the horizon seems to stretch on endlessly.

I've had this feeling a few times in my life, when I finally managed to shed certain jobs, friendships, just ... situations. And it's a revelation every time.

I wish I could bottle this. I would keep it in a cool dark place in a brown medicine bottle with a white paper label:"Open in case of emergency."

jump!

2007-07-24T17:06:00.000-07:00

Email convo with coworker (streamlined for those with short attention spans):

TheMighty: Btw, did this picture crack you up or what?

maisnon: Sadly, as a former cheerleader, my response was "point your toes!"

TheMighty: oh boy. i will have to use cheerleader admission^* in the future. AWESOME!!!

maisnon: Yeah, that would only work if I had any iota of a problem with being a former cheerleader. I don't. READY? OKAY!

^* This is meant in the legal sense: an acknowledgement of the truth of a statement, or a statement tending to establish the guilt or liability of the person making the statement.

55 Fiction Friday: Stay on These Roads edition

2007-07-20T09:38:00.000-07:00

Friday returns!

Brows furrowed in concentration, she traced the thin red line with her fingernail. She exhaled and smiled. This was going to take longer than she had anticipated. She turned the key in the ignition, whipped her hair up into a ponytail, and turned up the volume. When she checked the rearview, her eyes looked happy.

mutate

2007-07-17T16:23:00.001-07:00

Weekend update, bitchez!

Saturday

Went back to what will soon be the new apartment for a second look. I saw it last weekend and was enthralled enough to come straight home, fill out the application, write a cover letter and fax/email it all in. The rental company approved me and sent me the lease late in the week, and I had classic "buyer's remorse": I really hadn't had a very good look at it, I felt rushed because the tenant was in the apartment at the time, etc. etc.

The second look absolutely sealed the deal for me. I'm not saying it's the bestest apartment E!V!A!H! It most assuredly is not, but it's quite decent, and will suit me just fine. Plus, woodburning fireplace! (This means I need to learn how to USE a woodburning fireplace!)

I spent the rest of Bastille Day .... watching an English soccer team... play a Mexican one. At Stanford. Yeah, totally bizarre. Chelsea v. Club America at the Stanford Stadium was superfantastic. I bought tickets just as soon as I found out the game was on - so we were in the second row off the field! Close enough to see the sweat (and the quads, but I digress!) The cast of characters around us definitely added to the atmosphere. The row in front of us was crowded with Club America fans who, in true soccer-style, were terribly unsporting everytime Chelsea played well. Also hilarious: all kitted out in Club America gear, they still felt it was a-okay to try and sell Chelsea jerseys that they had purchased somewhere during halftime.

Sunday

I have a weird thing for music in Portugese. One of my favorite groups is Os Mutantes, a Brazilian, psych-era group known for their contributions to tropicalia. I can't begin to tell you how excited I was when I saw they were playing the Stern Grove Festival. Reneging slightly on my "month of me", I sent out an email to SF-peeps I know inviting them to join me. But, no matter, I ended up going by myself.

I arrived two hours early, but that was not early enough. I was up in the hills above the concert meadow. I managed to snag a seat with an obstructed view of the stage. It was the equivalent of a nose (or ear)-bleed seat. The main thoroughfare to get up the hill was to my left. As the day progressed, I watched more and more people slipsurf down the hill trying to descend. Eventually, people were straight falling on their asses.

The opening act was Los Amigos Invisibles, a Venezuelan group with a large following in the audience. And then, Os Mutantes took the stage wearing all manner of funked out costumes. Even at my great distance, it was great to see them live, and to sing along (okay - that was only to the one song they do in French.)

At the end of the show, one of the Brazilians near me stood and addressed the audience as a whole, "THIS IS BRAZILIAN MUSIC! YOU LIKE IT?" Yes, yes I do.

finally!

2007-07-16T15:50:00.000-07:00

done and done.

I just signed a lease on a place in SF. I move at the end of the month.

Things are about to get really interesting.

break your eye open

2007-07-11T14:54:00.000-07:00

In an episode of one of my favorite TV shows, Six Feet Under, Claire - the aspiring art student - is flipping through a book of Nan Goldin photographs. As she explains to her brother, she is trying to "break her eye open" and see new perspectives, without all of the tired associations we've formed.

.........

Björk has a song on her excellent, excellent album Debut entitled "There's more to Life than This." At one point she shuts herself in a washroom stall and stagewhispers:

I could nick a boat/ And sneak off to this island/I could bring my little ghettoblaster/There's more to life than this

........

That's where I am: somewhere between "breaking my eye open" and really, really getting that there's more to life than this. I feel like that's a lesson I learn over and over, sometimes in small ways - meeting someone at a party who has done/been to/simply is all these things I've never even though of - and big.

I'm full of ideas and epiphanies again, returning to my core values. The spring, it seems, is coiling.

Anatomy

2007-07-08T10:07:00.001-07:00

I noticed a coworker flipping through "Hair Sophisticate" (not joking), and asked her what she was planning.

She: I'm looking at changing my hair color. Something like this .... or this .... or maybe this. Somewhere in there.

maisnon: Okay, so more red?

She: Yeah, I'm looking for drastic, yet subtle.

maisnon: Okay, this will end in tears.

signpost

2007-06-27T20:52:00.001-07:00

signpost, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Sticks and stones, the saying goes, may break my bones
But, words will never hurt me.

I'm not sure what it is - words, actions, trends, ideas - but everything feels painful right now. I feel like I'm walking around with no skin on.

I do recognize that my response is out of synch with the stimuli, and that it is building towards, or has already, reached hypersensitization.

I need a hard reset. Someone to find and firmly depress the secret hidden spot behind my ear.

But I'm not an iPod/Palm Pilot/other mechanical device, so I must find ways to recalibrate on my own. To this end, July is the month of Me.

The plan is: work, Netflix, library books, gym, and swimming pool. Rinse, lather, and repeat.

Just writing it, I feel a little more serene and I can draw my breath in a little deeper.

lala land

2007-06-24T23:30:00.001-07:00

Santa Monica, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Weekend update, y'all! While it's still the weekend! Wonders will never cease!

So, I went down to LA this weekend. That's right - two weekends in a row out of town.

Saturday Headed down to LA with a coworker. The flight is only an hour long, but, man, we had a great time - to the point where we hushed each other when the giggling got out of control. Unfortunately, that was the most fun part of the travel portion: it took us well over an hour to get our rental car. W.T.F.?!?!

BUT, for a mere $10 more, I got a PT Cruiser convertible. I have a hate-on for PT Cruisers in general - I think they kinda look like hearses, and - for how large they are on the outside - they are pretty small on the inside. I have no complaints with the convertible version as a rental car, however. Fun to drive, had a little kick, and um - CONVERTIBLE! (With weather that made that worthwhile ;)

Coworker and I zipped to the work site and handled the business at hand. When we were leaving, our client said "You used the side streets to get here, RIGHT?!" It was a perfectly LA moment - LA-ites talk about traffic, highways (always "the"), different strategies re: surface streets the way others talk about politics and sports. There is love, understand, and acceptance of the city and its quirks in the discussions of how to get from here to there.

I dropped coworker back at the airport, and attempted to make contact with ILSAE. I met up with her and a gaggle of peoples in Santa Monica at Roy Rogers State Beach. This photo was taken driving back along the 1 (before it turns into the 10.)

We headed back to Claremont, and I promptly fell asleep. I hadn't bargained for how much the sun takes out of you when you're driving around in a convertible. Dinner of sushi at Rumblefish, and then home for a DVD (Everything is Illuminated)

Sunday. Had a lazy brunch at BC Cafe. I managed to leave ILSAE without getting all mopey. Two things, I think, (1) I last saw her in Feb - so it's only been a few months, (2) this is my second weekend of traveling. I'm not sure why - but now, finally, I get that I can go away for a weekend, somewhere 1 or 2 hours away. I've done it two weekends in a row without taking a day off of work, and without totally draining myself of energy. I think the key is to choose someplace within a 2-3 hour flight time.

Some observations:

PT Cruiser people have a whole .... brotherhood of the road thing going on. I had a few people driving Cruisers honk at me and wave. Of course, the first time it happened, I thought I was witnessing some LA-style road rage.
People are a lot friendlier if you're driving a convertible.
I think I could live in LA for a year. I kind of like the idea, even. I feel the same way about NYC - I'd like to live there for some period of time to experience it, but I couldn't see myself living there with any intent to stay.

This week is going to be C-R-A-Z-Y.

55 Fiction Friday: Better late(nt) than never edition

2007-06-24T22:55:00.000-07:00

Friday forgot to hit publish!

He finished the anecdote on just the right note: humorous, dry, and self-deprecating. She hit him with the Princess Diana eyes, mouth involuntarily smiling against the salty rim of her margarita glass. Hmmm, witty and not full of himself – maybe this had more potential than she had thought. The unexpected is so much more interesting.

well-qualified to represent the ABQ

2007-06-21T18:37:00.001-07:00

A tree in an unlikely spot, originally uploaded by maisnon.

This is where the blog entry about my zany weekend in ABQ will go once I find a little more energy/time to actually do some blogging.

tones of home

2007-06-19T12:02:00.001-07:00

View from the GG Bridge, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Flying back from Albquerque, I kept hoping the flight attendant would say it on the intercom, or the captain. I remembered all the moments in the past, innumberable transoceanic flights full of bleary-eyed passengers, or the glorified puddle-jumpers from around the country. I always got a small thrill when it was announced "And if this is your final destination, welcome home."

Floating in above the San Mateo Bridge, no one said it, and it didn't feel quite right. Something tugged at me, and I finally wrapped my sleep-deprived head around it: I do think of the SF-area as home. I feel that small, unique spark. I'm not sure exactly when that happened, but it's here now.

I've been feeling (and have said) that my relationship with San Francisco is a bit of a bad one: I'm in love with it, but it's not always returned. It's been very difficult to connect with people (or, rather, to connect with people who stay around. The vast majority of my peeps have moved, or are moving in the nearish future.)

Still, this is where I want to be. When the parking shuttle arrived back at the lot, the driver put in park, and grinned over his shoulder at all of us, "Welcome HOME!"

wide, open spaces

2007-06-15T16:20:00.000-07:00

There's a scene in When Harry Met Sally^* where Sally is describing the break-up of her last relationship. She talks about how spontaneous and free they thought their life was, how they could fly off to Rome on a whim. And how one day she came home and said, "The thing is, Joe, we never do fly off to Rome on a moment's notice."

wt has been in Albquerque for nearly a year now. His time is so close to being over that he is keeping a ticker as his away message. And I've been threatening to visit him the whole time. I spoke to him Tuesday and, out of the blue, he said "come this weekend." I opened up my Outlook calendar, looked at the expanse, unmarred yellow space and hit travelocity.

It's not exactly Rome, but I'm off to ABQ soon, soon, soon. And I'm so excited. I forgot what a ridiculous rush of energy I get whenever I travel ANYWHERE. My odd travel rituals: packing list, food in the freezer, gas in the car. Man, there's just something about putting a few items in a bag, zipping it up and heading out the door.

I obviously need to get the hell out of Dodge more often.

^*Oddly, this is the second When Harry Met Sally-themed post that I have written recently. Let's all take a moment to be glad I didn't post the other one. It put the "bit" in "bitter"!

afternoon delight

2007-06-13T14:57:00.000-07:00

I knew just what I looked like: sneaking up the backstairs into the office, wet hair escaping its bun, a flush to my cheeks. I even got the raised eyebrow and smirk from the secretary I encountered on my way back to my office.

If only! But, in all honesty, my afternoon hijinks were a pretty close second. I had a swimming lesson at my local neighborhood pool. My pool is INCREDIBLE! It's recently been re-done, and is gorgeous and clean. When I slipped into it, and dunked my head under, I came up thinking, "whoah - salty!" And then I realized - no chlorine smell!!!! Yup, the pool is salt water. No chlorine. I spent an hour in a pool without getting red eyes, feeling like my skin was going to flake off, etc. etc. And it makes you more buoyant (i.e. it makes it easier to swim.)

I bitch about my schedule sometimes (and I will bitch in the future, I'm sure), but I got an hour in the sun on a day when it finally, finally feels like summer. It's a good day.

truth hurts

2007-06-11T18:00:00.000-07:00

Ah, Overheard in the Office!

Coworker #1 (holding company's new tech use policy): It says we're not supposed to blog on company time.

Coworker #2: Whatever. It's not like we follow any of their other policies, like doing work and shit.

la lune est libre

2007-06-11T09:28:00.001-07:00

beach, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Weekend update, y'all (and in a timely fashion!)

Friday
Cocktail party at a partner's house in the city. Much wine = mucho hijinks. As always, I will try to hit the "highlights":

(1) The partner's parents happened to be in town (from the east coast.) There's something wonderful about talking to someone's 83 year-old father and seeing his expressions peek out from his father's face. Also, highly hilarious - when his mom said to me (and another woman), "Okay, girls - let's get serious. Are there any single men at this firm?" As if that wasn't enough, his dad shushed his wife and said, "You don't want to date someone at work!"

(2) One of my (male) coworkers made me arm-wrestle him. This is the second time within a month that I have been called on "feats of strength." I'm not sure what this means, but I am a little weirded out. (And, yes - I did win. Technically.)

Saturday
I think the key to getting going on the weekends, for me, is leaving the house. I used to go to an 8:30 am Saturday morning yoga class, and that was really great - I came back to the apartment feeling all virtuous and shit. And, after a little basking, I'd start to run through my errands.

This weekend, I forced mysel to get "up and at'em" - I hit Target by 9 am. I made the smallest of dents in my never-ending "to do" list. One of these was to buy a new card reader - so finally, finally - new pics are up on flickr!!! These include my trip down to LA, and my tourtastic tour of SF, as well as a pic I'm really proud of - my moo.com collection.

Sunday
Meetup day! I drove out to Half Moon Bay to meet people I don't know for brunch at Cetrella. Afterwards, we headed to the beach. I have a giant (queen-sized at least) fleece blanket that I keep in the trunk of my car. It loves going to the beach. We played some beach volleyball, and I was surprised how fun it was (although none of us were any good - Karch and Sinjin, you don't have anything to worry about! Yeah. Choosing those two names is a dead giveaway as to when I used to follow beach volleyball)

I hit the cherry stand on my way home, and spent the ride blasting tunes off of my iPod and spitting cherry pits out the window.

The weekend closed off with going to see Paris, Je t'aime at the theater near my house with Hesse. The movie was by turns beautiful, grating, bizarre and touching. It really is a love letter to Paris, but moreso to humanity..

tapestry

2007-06-10T20:39:00.000-07:00

When you're in an experience, it acts like a bolt of fabric thrown up in the air. The center spins as it gives off yard after yard of cloth. You focus on the action, and the sound.

Later - minutes, hours, days, weeks, sometimes even years - later, you examine it all more carefully: the arm sweeps over the fabric, smoothing it against the table. You bend in closely to see the detail - the themes and threads of conversation carried throughout. Your eye is naturally drawn to details: the small flaws that went unremarked when it all whipped by you, as well as the small embellishments: a particuarly sweet or unexpected gesture.

Sometimes, driving home, I wonder when I'll see the pattern - when I'll understand how this particular piece fits into my life, how it has been affected by things before, and how it inexorably affects what comes after.

55 Fiction Friday: Repub edition

2007-06-08T10:32:00.000-07:00

Friday gets some press. (Repost)

It doesn't count if you cry in the shower. With all that water, no one can really tell. It's the perfect time: you can release all of the frustrations, and petty disappointments before you start your day. What counts is if you can leave it behind, watch it all swirl down the drain and disappear.

take california

2007-06-05T10:19:00.000-07:00

Weekend (well ... Sunday) update, y'all!

I launched a veritable tour-de-force of ... tourism on SF on Sunday. Ah, poor visitors to the area, little do they know that I will use them and abuse them to check out the sights. I picked up my co-pilot, med skool, and we headed up to the Inner Richmond to wander Clement Street and partake of dim sum. Although, I've only been there a handful of times, I really enjoy the neighborhood: the juxtoposition of little Chinese eateries with bars like the Bitter End and Rockit Lounge.

Next, we headed over the Golden Gate Bridge. We stopped at the vista point on the other side (along with the majority of the Indian population in the tri-state area) to take pictures. We really had to "batten down the hatches," my hair was whipped into a Gordian knot. But, hey, I got some cool snaps.

We booted around Rt. 1 in Marin, stopping to take pictures, buy cherries from the surliest roadside stand ever, etc. etc. At some point, I evangelized about Amalia Rodrigues being the perfect accompaniment to this drive, so we listened to some fado. Since we hit Marin comparatively late on a Sunday, the traffic was going against us and there weren't as many bicyclists on the road. While eating the cherries, I complained that I'm a lousy spitter and my companion offered to give me a few pointers. I found it charming, and reminiscent of when I was seven and my mother taught me how to blow bubbles with chewing gum. Conclusion: I'm a worse spitter if I think about it too much.

After a few mis-turns (really, more like miscommunication - I thought we were headed to one site, and he thought we were trying to get to another), we parked at Stinson Beach. Beaches in northern California are blustery affairs: more windbreaker and sunglasses than swimsuit. The gigantic fleece blanket in the trunk was, as med skool put it, "clutch." Sprawled out on the sand, we both fell asleep to the sound of the waves coming in. I woke up because the waves suddenly increased in size, changing the rhythm. Also, I was very lightly asleep due to the conditions: out in the open, in public, etc. The nap was refreshing, although for the rest of the day, I kept finding sand in my hair.

Heading back into the city, I couldn't decide where to go: Mission (which I'd prefer) or North Beach (more tourist-y). I managed to get us kind of turned around in Russian Hill, and we finally picked a street to try and reach North Beach. At one point, I saw one of SF's unique "HILL" signs .... and then I noticed tourists snapping pics of the hill. Med skool astutely surmised that we were about to do the twisty part of Lombard - yet another tourist attraction - and, completely unplanned! I was really thrilled to just stumble upon it.

I found the parking garage in North Beach which has fortunes painted behind each car. (I think ours was "You are welcome at any gathering.") We walked around Columbus Street, and ended up having dinner at Michaelangelo's. Thanks to SFist, I knew to check out the new gelato place (HUUGE recommend!) We finished our gelato admiring the window display at City Lights, and ended the evening browing the bookstore.

Hopefully, if I can get my card reader to work(!!!), I will add pics to this post!

(stevie) wonder

2007-06-02T16:38:00.000-07:00

One of my all-time favorite songs (and one that always puts me in a good mood) is Stevie Wonder's birthday song for Martin Luther King. And, somewhat ridiculously, I started humming it to myself when I started writing this post.

Why the Stevie Wonder? Why the new (although very similar) template? That's right - it's been another year! Two years and counting, bitches! (The actual date was on the 30th - but, um, close enough for government work.)

I wanted to write this overarching and meta post about what blogging has meant to me, and the role it plays in my life, but instead I'll focus on some of the challenges. This year I have really questioned why I blog, and - although I haven't come to a definitive answer - I have satisfied myself that it is something that I want to continue doing. Blogging provides me with a community, and oddly continuity that I don't always feel I have in my day-t0-day life. I am close to people whose blogs I started reading when I was studying for the Bar. I talk to some of them online nearly every day. In addition, I have at least one friend from every stage of life that reads the blog (and comments!) (Shoutout to peppermint patty, ILSAE, and sapner!!)

I feel like there are many occasions to take stock of where you are in life, and set goals/aspirations for the future: birthdays, New Year's Eve, even every morning - if that's how you see things. My blogging goal is to put more there there. One of the downsides to having people you know read your blog is hesitating about talking about some of the things that are going on. (Of course, some people write so beautifully when they are elliptical and oblique - that's something I aspire to.) I joke about having three readers, but that's not entirely true (I may be up to FIVE now!) But that's another pressure - who is reading? There have been little ripples of drama, and some people have taken their blogs private. That's something I'd like to avoid.

And so, to another year!