Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Tears for Fears

So far this week, I have cried while watching the following TV shows:
    1. Cold Case
    2. Medium
    3. House
Each time, the waterworks were brought on by the idea of a happy young family being torn apart by tragedy in the form of untimely death. Cold Case was the real kicker, the only show that made me all-out sob. This has always been one of my two biggest fears, that I would have a happy, young family and that it would be the victim of a tragic death. I think I started having this fear when I was about 11 or 12 years old (the same time I started having my fear of being thrown in a Mexican prison and neither my family nor my government could ever find me or get me out.). I blame this fear on Ashley Judd; I think this basic premise befell her in some movie that took place in Florida, except that it involved drug lords. For some reason, my early-to-mid-week crime dramas this week all touched on this very real fear, and it totally effected me. I don't usually mind watching shows about people dying or being victims of violent crime (remember last week's Law & Order post?), but the devastation of a young couple and their young children, especially when it's due to the tragic death of one of the parents, really frightens the crap out of me.

I'm sure the level to which these scenarios messed with me this week are due to a number of circumstances in my life right now. For instance, a good friend of mine is dealing with a family member who is going through a potentially life-threatening illness--that family member is a very happy parent of a young child. Another factor is a friend of mine who died earlier this year, leaving behind his wife of nine months. Nothing could be more tragic. And it's all about tragedy and what earns something the identifier of "tragic" for me. I'm pretty sure that this is my psyche's way of addressing the fact that I am now one step closer to being that happy young family with happy young children, not to mention that more and more of my friends are becoming the same--these potential victims of tragedy are becoming less faceless to me; the vague feeling of impending tragedy is perhaps being replaced by real--but still vague--concern for actual people in my life.

I don't walk around crying, nor do I view my friends and family as victims-to-be. This was simply a look at what must be an outward expression of internal emotions, brought on by an external trigger--not unlike a dream. The chemicals in my brain just prompted me to cry while watching Hugh Laurie this time, instead of making me toss and turn all night while trying to re-attach my dog's dismembered feet in some horrible anxiety dream.

Maybe I should lay off the crime dramas for a few days. Go back to something safe and comforting like Sopranos reruns on HBO.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The Alpha Dog Diaries

I had to fight Nanna "Jaws of Death" Dog for the dark meat. It's no easy task--she means business. Especially when it comes to tasty poultry. I'm still recovering from my devastating loss. Look at her! She's ruthless!

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Turkey Lurkey

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Whether you're going to be traveling to get there, or you wake up and immediately start cooking for anywhere between 1 and 15 of your closest friends, I hope everyone has a happy and safe holiday--even the vegetarians.

I will be helping my mom cook all of the standards. By "helping," you know I mean "tasting the pies." And watching hockey. Because I love disappointment.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

The Story of How I Won 9 Tiny Plastic Ninjas

H&M was a bust. Everyone either overslept or decided just not to go. How lucky were we! One report from the field said that those who got in line at 7 am were already hitting the 500 mark. Holy crap!

MEH and I decided to amuse ourselves by going to the miniature golf course.

I learned two things from our 18 holes:
1. One needs a great deal of patience in order to be around more than one twelve-year-old at a time. Try 50.
2. MEH is very, very good at miniature golf. I, in turn, am very bad at said sporting activity.

We capped off our golf game with everyone's favorite:

Skee Ball! Not only did I wipe the skee ball ramp with MEH, I also won enough tickets to redeem them for nine little plastic ninjas. I couldn't have asked for a better Saturday.

The remainder of my weekend was spent with the visiting IJR family from Minneapolis! Baby Lil is now 7 months old, and she's got an insatiable taste for human flesh. This is when she latched onto my glasses and decided to eat them. You know how when you drive your car through the car wash, and the big, wet mop-thingies swish over windshiled? That's what this was like; I could see her little wet baby tongue going to work on my lenses. "My super human baby saliva will dissolve these glasses right off your face! Victory will be mine!"

By the way, I realize I haven't been blogging much. Unless I've got something I feel is worth blogging about (um, sure), I don't bother. But I've done some brainstorming, and here's a sneak peak at some upcoming blog topics: Michael Jackson, Davy Jones, my friend Jim and his collection skills, and various thoughts on color blending and shades of blue. Stay tuned!

Friday, November 18, 2005

Meat Head for Governor

I often forget that living in the San Francisco Bay Area is not unlike living in a social, political, economic bubble. I don;t mean "bubble" like we're in a "housing bubble," I mean like "boy in the bubble," where I'm constantly looking through a clear plastic film at the rest of the country thinking, "Huh, so that's how normal people do things."

A certain healthy person in my office has convinced me that going to yoga during our lunch hour on Fridays is a good thing. (Hint: it's not Arthur, Rhonda, or Dorienne. And she comes from Canada. And her name is Mireille.) As we were walking--well, it was more like a cross between shuffling and limping--from class to Pluto's to get our daily low-carb steak salads, we were discussing the following things: Rob Reiner's push for all Californians to have access to free pre-school, the two women who walked past us who looked like movie stars (no, really, they could totally have been movie stars), the quantity of lesbians in Santa Cruz, and my Saturday morning plans to get up early and go to the grand opening of H&M at Union Square. Now, think about those last few sentences. What are the main subjects:

    1. Yoga.
    2. Low-carb steak salads.
    3. Actors running the government of California.
    4. Movie stars (or people who look like them).
    5. Lesbians.
    6. Calculated shopping.
When taken like this, as a set of normal, every-day, yet descriptive conversational topics, the whole concept makes me feel rather alienated as a citizen. I like my city and my state, and I like our defining characteristics and I believe we have them for a reason (Please don't read that as support for Gov. Schwarzenegger. It's not.). But we really aren't like the rest of the country. We're kind of like a little kid whose parents and teachers constantly told us how special we are, and how there's no one else in the whole world like us, and now we've grown into a young adult who believes that we're different and special and, yes, better. Not that we're entitled to preferential treatment, or should get more respect or more friends or more invitations to better parties, but it wouldn't surprise us if we did. We put up with more abnormal and uncharacteristic behavior from our friends than most people, we encourage "diversity" and "uniqueness" but we're silently judging everyone almost all of the time. We have some serious issues.

But it's not like we're in trouble. We're going to come out this OK. Sooner or later, someone will knock us off of our emotional and spiritual high horse, and we'll pick ourself up and dust ourself off and get back on our slightly less high horse. Giddyup!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Detective Green got shot in the gut for this?

In a few short days, Rent will open in theaters across the country. I couldn't be happier, and do you know why? Because every time I fall asleep watching Law & Order on my reclining, heating, massaging sofa, all combo cozy, that damn loud commercial wakes me up. Are you asking how I measure a year? Because I would say that a year starts on New Year's Day and ends on New Year's Eve. But that's just me. Perhaps one does measure a year in minute-long increments, and yes, I believe that would make a year 525,600 minutes long. Either way, must you sing about it so very loudly? It's Sunday afternoon, and I'm trying to nap.

Of course, I plan on seeing the movie. For two reasons:

1. Elphaba is in it.

2. Detective Green is in it. That automatically makes it part of the Law & Order franchise. I love Law & Order. I love Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I love Law & Order: Criminal Intent. Heck, I even mildly enjoyed the short-lived Law & Order: Trial By Jury with Bebe Neuwirth, and that sucked eggs. In Hebrew, it's Hok v'Seder. If Law & Order ran for president, I would vote for it.

I'll go see Rent, but not until it's been running for a while and they've stopped playing that damn commercial.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Langosta y Bacon Bocadillo

Some of my long-time readers will remember that glorious day last December when I happened upon the world's most perfect food. Well, lightning does strike twice, my friends, albeit not in the same place.

In celebration of many things, including but not limited to JW's triumphant return from Ireland, APV & Sully's triumphant return from Cabo San Lucas, Dana's triumphant return from shopping for wedding dresses (it's all about the veil, people), and my triumphant return from the post office, we had dinner at Habana, a super nice Cuban restaurant on Van Ness.

While flip flopping between the halibut and the salmon (I tend to take food-ordering very seriously), my caught a glimpse of the special paella--a paella that contained not only scallops, prawns, calimari, and mussels, but lobster and chorizo as well. Lobster and chorizo.

I'm not the kind of Jew who keeps kosher. What kind of god wouldn't want us to eat bacon? And lobster? And very, very spiteful god, that's what kind. Bacon is by far my all time favorite food, and lobster is a close second on principle (although a good, rare filet mignon will beat out the lobster almost every time). So when I read the paella description on the menu, it was like a flashback from Minneapolis. This was the Cuban version of the lobster and bacon sandwich.

Kev-o was smart, like me. We both went for the paella.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

This kiss is itchy

When I was in Israel, I got stung by a jellyfish. It didn't really do anything other than leave a red mark on my thigh and allow me to tell everyone, "Guess what! I got stung by a jellyfish!" But now it itches. A LOT. I've become that girl in the office who constantly scratches her thigh. People avoid me. Small children run from me. Heck, I can barely get UPS guy to take my packages.

Ok so I'm exaggerating. I doubt anyone would have noticed my thigh-scratching had I not mentioned it. But how could I not mention getting stung by a jellyfish? It makes me sound very rugged, like Chuck Norris. And I can't mention the jellyfish attack without getting itchy. Such is life.

Monday, November 07, 2005

See it all, small!

I'm home, back in good 'ol San Francisco. But I still have to post these fabulous pictures from fabulous Mini Israel. For those of you who don't know, Mini Israel is a miniature recreation of the country of Israel, built at a 1:25 ratio, and not entirely done to scale (for instance, the skyscrapers of Tel Aviv are much taller than Mount Hermon or Massada.). It's so great: in barely 2 hours, you can stroll through mini Haifa, mini Jerusalem, mini Eilat, see the mini Knesset and the mini Western Wall.

And then you get to pretend you're Godzilla and crush some little people doing little dances.

It's fun to see tiny replicas of places you've been, as well as places you'd like to go. The whole thing is quite ingenious, and a real treat. I especially liked this life-sized, fuzzy, animatronic rock band, although I have no idea what they had to do with Mini Israel. At all.

Thanks Israel, both regular and small sized! I had a great time, and I will miss your 24-hour falafel stands and infatuation with liter-sized bottles of Diet Coke.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Angry Sky

It rained for a day, and now the beach is deserted. The sky has turned dramatic, and the sea is now churning rather than lapping gently. It's beautiful! And crepuscular. And the lack of lying on the beach and swimming allows for an abundance of Ladette to Lady on BBC Prime. So far this morning, there are many fewer clouds and the sun (and heat) appear to be returning, so I'm sure I'll find my way back to the sea sooner or later, and knowing that I'm only here for a few more days makes feel a little frantic--I still haven't gone to Mini Israel or the Elvis Inn, which means I'm sorely lacking in tacky souvenirs. Rest assured this shall be remedied.