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.

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.

I know it's been far too long without a post, and I've probably lost my 5 loyal readers. If this is the price I must pay for day after day of lying on the beach and being continuously awed by the beauty of the Mediterranean, that's fine by me. I mean seriously, check this out:



This particular stretch of beach is about 2 miles long, and I can easily entertain myself by walking up and down the beach, collecting shells and pebbles and taking pictures. It's a very touristy area, but I out-tourist them all by far.



Happy Halloween to all of you ghosts, goblins, and fairy princesses! We celebrated Halloween on Friday night with a party at B7's and lots of food, but only one costumed guest: Trick or Treat!



The rest of the evening involved zombies, gummi worms, and champagne, and resulted in a joining of forces so powerful, the world may never be the same again.

Day of the Dead (Sea)

So apparently "Dead" is Hebrew for "Salt." We went to the Dead Sea today, and I may never get all of this salt off of me. But it was really super fantastic, and not just because it's the lowest place on earth (-401 meters!). We spent a fun-filled evening in En Bokek, a resort town on the Dead Sea. Funny thing about resorts in Israel; they seem to have been mostly decorated in the 1980's, and the ambiance was never thought of again. Don't get me wrong, I love eighties decor for its kitsch value alone--and I'm not just talking about giant Swatch watch wall clocks. But hotel was not unlike the classrooms in my old synagogue where we used to have Hebrew School classes.



Except in my classroom, she would have been picking oranges instead of apples. As a young child, the posters on the walls of my Hebrew School classrooms lead me to believe that all Israelis lived on Kibbutzes, and that the entire country was one big orange grove. And also that Israelis dance around in circles to traditional Israeli folk music, and they all wear white.

But I digress. The Dead Sea is super cool. You can't really swim in it, you can only sort of float and bob around (and I happen to believe that floating and bobbing around are totally underrated, so I was thrilled.). Check it out: no one in this photo is actually swimming:



I know it's hard to tell from the photo, but it's a very strange thing to see. My good friend DRB loves to float around on her back in the water--I thought of her the whole time, and how much fun she would have being in such float-friendly water.

I think there may still be some salt in my brain, and it's sort of effecting my blogging abilities, so I'll end this post here.

Trick's a treat

I did finally get to spend some time on Friday night with my second favorite person in Israel: Trick. Trick is VVM's dog, and he is a sweetheart. He's some sort of Canaan Dog mix, and he's quite handsome.



Everything is better when there's a warm fuzzy someone lying on your feet. Sorry, Ozzy and Nanna, but you know what Crosby, Stills & Nash said:



"If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." Woof.

Pictures from Herz'liyah

L's fancy new apartment building.



The view from L's fancy new balcony. This little square has everything a young, upwardly mobile professional could want: a Pizza Domino and a Hot Dog stand.



The Mediterranean Sea is directly behind L's fancy new apartment building. It seems like it's still warm enough for swimming. I intend to test this theory tomorrow.



Israel has a coffee culture, but it seems to be more of an afternoon-cafe-latte-sipping-let's-relax-with-a-cup-of=coffee coffee culture, as opposed to my preferred coffee culture: it take one cup to open my eyes in the morning, one cup to get to work without driving my car off of the road, and one cup to understand what my coworkers are saying to me. And perhaps another cup in the afternoon so that I don't drive my car off of the road on the way home from work. In accordance with this Israeli plot to deny me my god-given right to predetermined caffeine levels, the cafes don't have to-go cups. You mean I have to sit here and leisurely drink my coffee?? What is this, vacation??? And you can bet I won't find any drive-through coffee, either. Harumph.

Regardless, I'm having a terrific time. Tel Aviv and the surrounding area is gorgeous. It also fun to go to places I remember visiting the last 2 times I was here. Israel is the only foreign place I've been to more than once, so I get a great feeling when I start to recognize a street or restaurant or shopping mall. Even if I can't totally read the sign, I know what it's trying to tell me.

I've got a real hankering to see Trick, L's brother's dog. Hopefully he'll be at dinner tonight, and I can get me some dog belly. Beten shel kelev.

Would you like some honey with that milk?

Greetings from Israel! I arrived safely, and quite happily I might add, given the combined 15 hours of flight time. I'm not entirely un-jetlagged, even though I managed to stay awake until a decent hour last night and slept through the night like a baby. SO I'll keep this sort, announce my safe and happy arrival, and promise to post pictures later. Promise!

Leaving on a jet plane

My trip to Israel is right around the corner, folks! I'm at that point where I'm having a difficult time focusing on anything else--other than Degrassi. Last night we held the first bi-weekly Degrassi-n-Indian food extravaganza. At one point, there were four girls in my kitchen singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" at the top of our lungs. And that was before the korma was delivered. Most of the time, AKG and I argued over who was prettier--Ashley or Paige (you know Paige is way prettier than that so-and-so Ash.). Ah, good times.

I found this on MEH's blog. Laughter was forthright.

And boy are my arms tired!

Talk about an absence of blog! In my defense, I was at a conference in Las Vegas where they have lots of ways to take my money, but few ways to connect to the internet. The whole trip was great--as always, it's fantastic to meet face-to-face with people I usually only speak with via email and phone. Plus, the pilot on the flight out took a few minutes before take off for photo ops! What a great guy.



After booth setup, Rhonda and I took a nice side trip to the Hoover Dam. Of course, dam jokes ensued. ("Where's the dam parking?" "Where's the dam gift shop?" "I'm dam hungry." "What a great dam day!" and so forth.)



I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but somehow, I thought it would be bigger.

I'm back in the office for a few days, then I'm off to the Holy Land for a few weeks. Of course there will be blogging, albeit potentially infrequent. And I'm sure it will be 80% about how much I miss the dogs. The dam dogs.

Hoover Dam

When the dog's away...

...the cat will sleep in the dog bed.





It's just common knowledge.

The dogs are away because last night I went to see Amy Sedaris speak at a benefit for 826 Valencia. What a funny lady! Hilarious! The always lovely and talented, Emmy-award winning Manny Santos joined my for an evening of culture and cheeseburgers. Check out my creepy happy meal toy:



Strangely, I left craving cheese balls.

Yes, but can they harmonize?

Dolphins aren't just for dinner anymore. Apparently, they are also receptacles for scientific discovery. Researches have gotten off of their lazy behinds, stopped trying to cure cancer and AIDS or end hunger and poverty, and have put their talents to work for good instead of evil. They have taught dolphins to sing the theme to "Batman.".

Finally, we can think of dolphins as intelligent creatures, capable of learning and thinking. For far too long, dolphins have been the victims of maritime prejudice: always being picked last for kickball, being passed over for promotions while that snarky orca from accounting was invited to the boss's place for cocktails and euchre... Thank you, scientific community, for taking the time and resources to show us the error of our ways, for proving once and for all that dolphins love Adam West just as much as any other sea creature.

Hardly Strictly Monday

Shana tova, all you Rosh Hashanah lovers out there! May your year be filled with health and happiness, and your evening be filled with honey cake!

I know at least one of you (Manny--and we'll have to change this alias because Manny's new haircut is awful) is expecting to see a picture of Dolly Parton here today from the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival that was held in Golden Gate Park over the weekend. Well I didn't make it on Sunday so I missed Dolly, as well as Laura Cantrell. Boo! But I did go on Saturday so I got to see The Knitters and Jimmie Dale Gilmore. And it was amazing--just the fog and the trees and the music...amazing. Check it out:



My friends were out in force! They came from Burlingame, Brooklyn, Boulder, Redwood City...old friends, new friends, related friends. The good kind.

And did anyone notice the Sharks scores on my side bar?? That's 7-0-0-0 for the preseason, folks! Now let's all pray that this streak continues on Wednesday when the actual season starts.

The daytime sniffling, sneezing, coughing, stuffy head, headache so you can get through your day medicine

Here I am in this state of severe congestion, and still I blog. Why? Because I don't need to be able to hear myself or anyone else in order to blog. My mucus levels have risen so high that my head officially weighs more than my body. My sinuses and ears are lousy with the stuff. These liquid-filled orange pills are my only friends.

But everything has an upside, right? I stayed home sick yesterday, and caught up Law and Order and all of it's various juicy spin-offs: Special Victims Unit, Criminal Intent, Special Elevator Unit... All that TNT and USA have to offer. I want to name my children "Dun Dun," after the drama-inducing noise played at each scene break. It really is the best series of shows ever. At least in the non-Canadian-teenage-drama category.

Dog Days of Summer

I had another footless dog dream last night. See, I don't have recurring dreams, but I have recurring dream themes. My generic anxiety dreams come in the form of missing the airplane: I'm late for my flight and don't make it to the airport in time, or I make it in time, but realize I left my suitcase somewhere. These are horrible, horrible dreams, characterized by increased sweating and a general feeling of discomfort the entire day following the dream, often in combination with unexplained bouts of crying.

The footless dog dreams are far less worrisome, as well as far less upsetting than they sound. There's never any gore or anything like that. It's usually more cartoon-ish, even claymation-ish. It started in 1997 when I was an exchange student in Sweden. Nanna was just about a year old, and I went to spend 4 months living in Uppsala to studying Swedish. Of course I felt guilty leaving my best friend and companion behind, and I had this dream where some random friend decided to make me feel better by mailing Nanna to me--only, to fit her into the box, they had to cut her feet off, kind of at the doggie elbow/knee joint. So my extreme joy and surprise that my puppy had been sent to me was instantly transformed into disappointment--not as in "Oh no! She's dead!" (the footless dogs of my dreams are never dead), but more like, "Aw, it's broken. I'll never get these legs back on right." A general sense of unpleasantness and mild anxiety.

In last night's footless dog dream, I was driving my Subaru with a friend, and Ozzy and Nanna were in the back like normal. We stopped at the top of a grassy hill where there was a field full of dogs for adoption. We decided to adopt 2 border collies and put them in the car. We drove to town (it was Eugene, OR where I attended college), and left all of the dogs in my car while we went for a walk. When we returned, one of the newly adopted dogs--which were now golden retrievers--had somehow gotten out of the car, but had cut (perhaps chewed) its foot off in the process. I called a few vets around town to see if anyone could sew it back on without an appointment, but nobody was able to help.

I don't know what kind of anxiety the footless dog dreams represent. I feel fine today, a little tired maybe. If anyone out there has any dream expertise, I love to know your interpretation of these footless dog dreams. For an illustration from last night's footless dog dream, click here.

Cesspool, part II

What a beautiful San Francisco weekend. The weather was perfect, and I spent Saturday doing perfect things with the perfect person. I went to the hairdresser to have those pesky roots taken care of. Then MEH and I strolled around Valencia and got pedicures. Perfect!




Sunday, on the other hand, was less perfect. There was pleasant strolling, and there was Swedish comfort food . But first, there was the cesspool in the park. Again.

cesspool n. 2. A filthy, disgusting, or morally corrupt place.

ozzy n. 2. A filthy, disgusting, or morally corrupt dog.

All in all, a fantastic weekend, despite Ozzy's best efforts.

Filthy, filthy boy

Behold my dog: he answers to nobody. Least of all me. For your enjoyment, I now present, "Ozzy: A Dog in Three Acts."

Act I: The Time: Late afternoon. The Place: Duboce Park. The sun in shining, dogs are running around and generally being dogs.
Ozzy: (Internal monologue) Look at that huge puddle full of unidentifiable, nasty smelling sludge! I will go roll vigorously in it. (Rolls vigorously in puddle)

Act II: The Time: Immediately after the events of Act I.
Deborah: Ozzy! Get out of there!! (Runs, as if in slow motion, toward the stinky puddle. Realizing that it is way too late to stop the process of dog stinkification, stops, shoulders slumped, and sighs. Ozzy continues vigorous rolling.)
Deborah: Damn you, Ozzy.

Act III: The Time: Immediately after the events of Act II.
(Ozzy trots over to where Deborah stands, and obediently sits down in front of her, blinks.)
Ozzy: (Internal monologue) That was the most fun I've had all week.

finis

Seriously, that one made the top 3 of nasty Ozzy-rolling-in-something-gross smells. Worse than horse poop, not as bad as dead seal. These pictures don't do it justice, but try to imagine my horror and dismay anyway:





Still, every cloud has a silver lining, and now he smells like Aveda Rosemary Mint shampoo.

The pursuit of happyness leads to a warehouse on the Embarcadero

By 10 o'clock last night, they had packed up every last retro car and every last taxi cab ad for Barney Miller and Life Savers candy (new!) and loaded them onto trucks. Then, as noisily an disturbingly as they had appeared, the movie folk were gone. (Not the fake BART station, though. That's still there.) And now there's a warehouse on the Embarcadero, and it's full of vintage cars from America's golden age of automotive design. And that warehouse happens to be right across from my friend Manny's office (no, that's not her real name).

Seriously! Look!



Now Manny is a part of movie history, too. What more could one want from a Thursday? Movie history ain't half bad.

I Heart the Eighties

By the time I woke up this morning, all of the cars on the street had been replaced by cars from the 70's and 80's. Totally surreal. Check out this taxi across the street:



With all of the extras in place, the fake BART station looks less, well, fake. Totally 1980. Except for the guy on the left with the Crate & Barrel Bag. Someone call security.



After reveling in my own little Hollywood, I took my minions to the Vet to get Microchipped. Yes, I am building bionic pets, one grain-of-rice-sized piece at a time. Ozzy was the first to get chipped, and the only one to cry about it.



Nanna, as always, was trusting--and simultaneously hiding under the exam table.



Neither cat is speaking to me right now.

Pursuit of Happyness

I swear, it feels like the President is coming to my neighborhood. Or at least the Governator. After much anticipation by local residents, Will Smith will be filming his new movie in the park across the street from my house tomorrow. It's super, especially the part where the production company pays me $50 to use my driveway. In preparation for the day of filming, the production company built a fake BART station in the park (right next to the real Muni station). Apparently, the day of filming involves Will Smith walking in and/or out of a BART station, and they decided to build a fake one for this sole purpose. Fake? You'd never know by looking at it!







Keep in mind that the "escalator" only goes about 4 feet down into the grass. Amazing!

So when you go to see Pursuit of Happyness, think of me. Think of my driveway. Think of my park being taken over by movie folk, and the four block radius around my house being taken over by "No Parking from 5 pm Tuesday 9/20 to 10 pm Wednesday 9/21" signs.

And think of the cool stuff I'll buy with my 50 bucks!

If I had a Nanna, I'd hug her in morning

Oh! Wait! I do have a Nanna!





Yup, this weekend's going to be chock full dog belly. CHOCK FULL.

Don't fret, I will involve Ozzy's belly as well. But girl belly is just so much nicer.

And all of this supposed cuddling and dog belly will take place assuming that there's room for me on the bed. which is questionable.



Other parts of the coming week will be spent with this lovely creature:



Mammas, don't let your best friends from high school grow up to be cowgirls!

Turn Around, Bright Eyes

Nanna has been extra super cute lately. Last night, as I was serenading her with "Total Eclipse of the Heart," she turned around and looked at me with such an expression of love. Such adoration, respect, awe, and more than a little codependency. Thank goodness cell phones are equipped with cameras to capture these loving moments of tenderness.



By the way, if you're looking for a good cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart (and you know how I feel about covers), check out this one. Warning: contains partial (and--I'm guessing--unintentional) nudity. And kitchen appliances. Those crazy Norwegians! And here's a link to some Total Eclipse of the Heart trivia for good measure. Why not.

And I dare you to get this song out of your head by tomorrow morning.

Home Sweet Home

I'm back, and glad to be home. I had a great vacation-slash-business trip, but nothing says lovin' like coming home to a house full of animals. Still, I'm not sure I appreciate the language of cat, even if they're saying nice things. Miru will compassionately take the time out of his busy schedule (which includes, but is not limited to, sunning, licking, and sleeping) to tell me that he misses me, and wishes I'd come home by throwing up at the foot of the stairs. Sweet guy. And he graciously welcomes me home by sticking his tail in my face. Lovely. Really.

Cat behavior aside, it was great to spend the weekend puttering, knitting and laundering. And Nanna is always pretty clingy the first few days after I come back from traveling, so I get a couple nights of super cuddle dog extreme, before she reverts back to her normal teenage girl-esque self ("God, Mother I hate you! You are so embarrassing! I can't "wait to move out!").

At least I'll always have Ozzy, the Gomer Pyle of dogs.



By the way, this was my view from the plane on the way to Portland--that's the one and only Sutro Tower peeking out above the fog. I love 6 am flights out of SFO!

It's not a pedicure in a taxi

Rhonda and I rode home from Camden Yards last night in a pedicab!



This guy was so fast. Yes, we raced the pedicab next to us, which was also carrying ASBDC conference attendees. Yes, we beat them. Yes, we totally rock.



We even had a Baltimore Police car pull up beside and tell the biker to slow down. The biker didn't seem to agree with the policeman's suggestion. Rhonda and I were too busy taking pictures of the scenery to be scared.



I have a feeling that if I'm ever rich and eccentric, I will have a full-time pedicab in my employ. Or two. Of course, I'd have to train the dogs to ride in the cab with me.

Sweatin' To The Oldies

That's right, friends and well wishers, I am officially super cool. Not only did Rhonda and I fly first class from Dallas to Baltimore, we met Richard Simmons in the lounge at the Dallas airport! And he put my hand on his tush! Seriously! Look!



And here's me in first class, full from a tasty supper and free beer, comfy in my huge leather seat, watching "Kicking and Screaming" with Will Farrel. Talk about first class. (Keep in mind that between driving home from Montana, flying home from Portland, and flying to Baltimore, I had been traveling for nearly 48 hours at this point. I've looked better.)



But it's not all first class and hyperactive fitness gurus. Mostly, but not all. There's also work. Really! Allow Rhonda to demonstrate:



And speaking of work, I've got to go do some more of that. Join us next time for pictures of our trip to Camden Yards last night to see the Orioles play, and our thrilling ride home in a pedicab! Seriously!

Baltimore is full of crabs

Chicken??? And Lounge??????

Tico from Missoula!