This defies comment.

Last night at dinner I couldn't stop laughing at the thought of a lesbian club called Twat's Happening or a place called the Snatch Patch. Once again, I asked Andrea to wait while I giggled uncontrollably. "Hey," I said "twat's up with you?"

I used to be a huge South Park fan, but my interest had waned until we watched Chinpokomon last night (courtesy of our beloved replaytv).

This pic is cracking me up.

<soapbox> The worst way to get a new puppy is from a puppy mill likeDo Bo Tri Kennels, LTD, who breeds 35-40 different breeds of dogs and has a name that reminds me of the Heaven's Gate people, in fact I can see that little bald guy out there tending to the dogs. Their website sure makes them appear reputable but don't be fooled. A 'good' breeder will only breed one kind of dog (becoming familiar enough with the hereditary illnesses to avoid breeding them) and will ALWAYS offer to take the dog back should something go wrong. </soapbox>

btw- the kennel linked above recently shipped 150 puppies without adequate airconditioning and in overcrowded conditions and was found out when the truck broke down. Those 150 puppies were adopted out through a local humane society but the guy is still in business.

A useful list of restaurants near my house. If you lived here, this list would help you, too.

In the last week, there have been 2 fires nearby. The first, and arguably the most tragic, was the Korea House, home of excellent, reasonably priced Korean food. The second was at a condo in my complex, which only meant that Andrea couldn't get home while they were fighting the blaze.

The lack of Korea House has driven not only me down the road to a slightly classier joint, but I wasn't the only one there lamenting the lack of the homier Korea House, where the owner sneaks extra food into your doggie bag.

Proof that porn is king: NedStat Hitlist: Online Magazines.

I say we all drop this e-commerce stuff and all turn our talents into making the best porn site ever. When the economy moves on, porn will be what's left.


I think I'm channeling some guy from New Joisey. I keep typing in what must be a Jersey accent.

I'd like to award the worst use of spam award (aka How NOT to attract business) to the guy who wrote this:
Hello, I am a Bay Area website designer & promoter. I can design or makeover your website ( www.magnavity.com ) , banner ads & web slide shows ( www.adflag.net ) & I have software that will allow you to promote your site, service or product directly fresh current customers leads based on interest & location. To invite me for a short demonstration or to find out more go to www.welcomail.com or call me at 831-XXX-XXXX.
Thank You - Adrian. P.S. I really need the business & do great work.
Thanks to Andrea for this gem.

I know it's cheesy, but You've Got Pictures is really very cool. A woman I know took some pictures of Alice and Ellie and I was able to buy a bunch of them without having to bother the photographer. Ellie's condition grows worse and I know that one day not too far from now, I'll be really grateful for these pics.

The all-time worst customer service email:
Hello Liz,
Thank you for contacting HomePage.com with the email you submitted on 5/28/00.
If you have any other questions or comments, please contact us again.

Over the last few years, I've been making comments to my parents to signal that soon enough, Andrea and I will be having a baby. (No, I'm not pregnant yet, that's one great advantage of being gay -- no unplanned pregnancy) My mom only wants a grandkid, she doesn't care if it's green or blue, as long as it's here. My dad, on the other hand, has not been thrilled about this (mostly the sperm bank part, I think, claiming that you don't know anything about the donor. I keep pointing out that we'll know more about this guy than they knew about my birthfamily before they adopted me).

Yesterday, I mentioned it again and he said 'you know I have some reservations about that.' Finally, I did it. Stepped out of the pantry, and in a calm, yet firm voice, said 'you know, you can just get over those now because this is your own grandkid we're talking about.' So he asks why we don't adopt (how to even get into this? It worked out well for us but I wouldn't choose adoption for my own child after I'd grown up wondering why I didn't look or act like anyone I was 'related' to, why make life harder for this kid?) an older child. Because a) adoption costs at least $10K, sperm costs $300 and b) because I will most likely have the chance to parent one child in my lifetime and I'm going to be selfish, I'm going to do this the way that I want to. Dad changed the subject after that.

I am practically weeping, this comment about starting a lesbian club is so funny.

My Ohio trip was so surreal. I grew up there, I've seen buildings and businesses come and go, in addition to parts and phases of my life that give me the sense of history that I'd love to have about where I live now.

Had lunch with a good friend who works in the very suburb where I grew up, near the house of both my high school boyfriend and the woman who (though I didn't fully realize it at the time) I spent most of my time longing to be involved with. I made some comment about having gone to a park near my friends' office with my boyfriend, and she said 'how long ago was THAT?' I realized it had been 10 years. The demarcation line between that part of my life and who I am today started when I figured out that I really really wanted to kiss a girl instead of the boy I was dating. And now that I think about it, those parts of my lives really are separate, partly because I live 3,000 miles away now and partly because I am afraid/don't want to deal with rejection from the people I knew then or even the ham-handed attempts to reconcile the Liz they knew then with who I am today.

Who knew that Ohio could be so cathartic?

Back from Ohio and I'm just tired. There wasn't enough time to do everything I'd hoped to and the humidity really kicked my ass, not to mention what it did to my hair. My controllable, unintentional mullet became a mane of wild hair. I now understand why people have such big hair there, you just can't help it.


Went to a lovely party for an Ohio State PhD graduate, met tons of people and realized two things.
  1. Not everyone lives in a world where the terms 'strike price' and 'IPO' are relevant to their family fortunes.
  2. Sometimes it's kinda fun (or at least interesting) to not introduce yourself, to just start talking, then leave abrubptly during a very short conversation lull.

Last night at the Waffle House there was a nice man wearing a 'Truckin' ain't for sissies' t-shirt. I love Ohio, the land of mullets and Wendy's.


Blogger looks weird on the AOL browser (I'm a glutton for punishment, as if this tiny-ass iMac keyboard isn't enough there isn't enough memory to open a real browser), but then again almost everything looks weird on an AOL browser, which seems to ignore my stylesheets. Blech.

Coming to you live from exciting Columbus Ohio. The flights were without incident, so far my parents have been splendid and the weather superb. It may be but 8:23 pm where I live, but it's 11:23 here and I'm beat.


Just when I thought I'd seen everything -- K9 TOP COAT. It's neoprene for dogs.

Since I'll be out of town for Alice's first anniversary of coming home to my house, I'll take this moment to say what I'd say if I were making a toast to her.

One day, the heavens opened up and God (for this scenario, I'll assume there is one) said 'Liz deserves something really amazing.' From that, came my Alice. 19.5 pounds of sheer beagle joy, little one who has changed my life, forced me to take care of someone else first, licks my feet (I know, it's weird, but she loves it), reminds me of mealtimes and gives me pause at least once a day to say 'damn, she's cute and we're lucky.'

So, my Alice, happy being home for a year on May 27. I'm glad you're here.

I just realized that all is right with the world. brig is still wearing black (with a little grey and white, for accent), my boss suffers from general malaise and once again, I'm headed out of town.

Of course my most recent foray, to Disneyland, wasn't what I'd hoped for. I was so sick that my favorite ride was the train because I could sleep. Waking up in the Haunted Mansion as we passed the head in the jar was seriously disconcerting. I'm in much better shape for the exciting Ohio venture that begins at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow. I think.

I'm trying really hard to imagine Brig at the CamWorld: BlogBowl. Brig? Bowling? Together???

Just thinking about my extended family and wondering why I need to use the word family to describe them, anyway. They're more like strangers that I used to spend holidays with, now I don't see anymore.

More great advice from Amy: remind my mother that in fact, I am a weather veteran. Good point.

Planning A Family Vacation

I'm really not sure why Slim Down Sister is such a funny title, but it's cracking me up just the same.

From Amy: "everyone needs blankets!"

I'm all geared up for my exciting sojurn to lovely Ohio tomorrow. My mom has warned me repeatedly of the hazards of driving alone (I'm taking a day trip to Indiana) but I think I'll be okay, having driven alone several times in the now 11 years since I first obtained my driver's license.


So you want to be an ignorant redneck? eBay item 339822584 MALE BEAGLE PUPPY.

VW Credit just called -- my threat of legal action worked and they're sending my title out via fedex tomorrow. Woohoo! I fought the law and I won!!

I'd like to thank all the little people who made this possible. My dad, for the free legal advice, the woman at the post office who helped me send the nasty letter via certified mail, Nadine, the area admin at work who makes sure that there's paper for the printer.

YES!!!! It's all about the small ($142.34) victories.

Looking at my site design, I realize that it's about 6 months behind (I knew the times were a'changing when brig, queen of dark colors, went to white). And I'm okay with that.

Thank god -- Prince Now Prince Again

I dutifully bought The Marshall Mathers LP this morning. Thumbs up!

The rage over postive blogging continues elsewhere. Anything that makes you think about stuff, even if it spawns completely different innovations than the starting point, is a good thing.

Something I didn't know I needed, but now that I see it, the Cast Iron Nun Bottle Opener is what I need. Thanks Sarah.

I'm feeling better. I was forgiven for sending spam (actually, told that my spam never needs forgiving) and after wading through my mail, discovered that there had been a big discussion about the matter, that's what spawned the 'keep it on topic' email. Phew.

I'm slightly pissed off. Yesterday I wrote to some of the dog-transport mailing lists I'm on about a serious emergency (an entire shelter population is being killed today as part of a 'euthanasia clinic'), hoping that someone would be able to help get some of these dogs out before they were senselessly killed today. The moderators of both the lists I sent it to have sent 'housekeeping' notes reminding the list to stay on topic. Which is fine, I WAS off topic, but I'd say it was pretty goddamn important (albeit futile, we were unable to get the animals out and now there are a lot more dogs, cats, kittens and puppies in animal heaven today) so give me a break. Sigh.


Today's Photoshop lesson: when working with an image at 2x regular size, actual image size is SMALLER than what you're working with. Duh is me.

I jinxed it, said that my Grandma is somehow holding her own, and whaddya know, she lands the hospital again.

When she was in there over Christmas, I knew I was a grownup when I met her physical therapist and realized that not only had I gone to high school with this therapist but she was younger than I was. That time in the hospital with Grandma also made me realize that I hated my job.

Every day we took her from the 7th floor down to the 2nd for therapy. We had to pass the 6th floor- maternity, aka the Happy Floor. In sharp contrast to the other floors, this one is decorated and most people are happy, hence the term Happy Floor.

My Dad's response to me finding his lovely photo:

What a handsome guy; he's Mr. Internet!

Yes, Dad you are Mr. Internet.

A movement within a movement that's not really a movement -- non-negative blogging. This reminds me of the "I'll never start" campaign the school had when I was in 4th grade. I was supposed to pledge that I would never smoke cigarettes. Nothing could hold me to this but my word and what did I know, at age 10, what I'd want to do later? So I didn't do it. And I won't pledge to be non-negative because I can't promise that.

I do know that after you die, you're forced to review your life's actions-- evidently your mettle as a person is determined by how you act towards others, specifically did you act out of love whenever possible. I believe this to be true and do my best to act accordingly. To me, this makes a lot more sense than abstinence (because the Bible said so) or judging people (because the Bible said so) or even following a long list of rules (because the Bible said so). I mean, shit, that same Bible also says to throw a menstruating woman outside of the house while she's bleeding. I don't see a lot of menstrual huts on my way to work so I'm thinking that the Bible or any religious doctorine is an evolving thing.

Now that's a mouthful.

Lookie! It's my dad.

I'm headed to lovely Columbus Ohio this weekend and for some strange reason, I'm actually looking forward to it. The last two visits have been largely awful (save Amy breezing into town for a day of fun and frolic) since my Grandma was newly sick/incapacitated and my mom was worn out with the effort of taking care of her and all the things that keep a person's home sustained while they're not in it. Plus, I thought for sure that Buddy's cancer was moving much faster than it has been, so every visit was tinged with the 'this may be the last time I see you' feeling on more than one front.

Grandma is still not who she once was. You may say, shit, Liz, she's 94, what do you expect, but you don't know this woman. She lived at her house until Thanksgiving, 1999, (with a shitload of help from my mom) played bridge and blackjack every week. Now she's someone else, someone who's whole life has been reduced to one room in a nursing home.

Despite all this, I'm looking forward to visiting. This is the first time I've seen Ben since he officially became a member of my family and I've got an exciting day trip to Marion IN planned to help a very nice woman look for her lost dog.

Life is only as interesting as you make it.

We did almost nothing on Saturday, didn't even leave the house until 7 pm. It was exactly what I needed, I think I've finally licked the cold that I couldn't seem to shake.


I don't think that I've ever been this bothered by someone leaving the company but here I am, near tears at the thought of life without my boss' boss, our faithful and compassionate leader.

In case I haven't mentioned it, NetFlix.com is the best place to rent DVD's.

Things that suck. I suppose working at a startup means that you're always worried that you'll run out of money, but damn. The kid who started the Den was a little punk, buying a Ferrari when they got funded. What do you expect? Although the guy who founded my last company bought himself a Chrysler sedan and they're still failing.

I just had to rent the movie Beavers: IMAX.

Something is seriously wrong with the world....Ebay Is Temporarily Unavailable.

Woo hoo!!! Our ReplayTV just came. I can't wait to get home and start playing with it.

Now I remember why I have no desire to go back to school. When you're in college, life is very self contained (you may argue that it's not, but to me, it is and it was), everything you need is on campus, they even make it hard for you to get away from campus. In class, you spend your time thinking analytically about things that may once have reflected real life, but are now so analyzed that they resemble nothing of the actual event.

I couldn't handle going through that again, even if the resulting Master's degree did possibly enhance my earnings potential. Yes, I'm glad I went to college, not just one but three of them (what can I say? I bore easily), and managed to fenagle a degree in the allotted 4 years, but I knew then, when we were reading some post-modern play in a lit class at Ohio State and I asked 'but how does this concept connect to reality?' not to be cynical, but because I couldn't figure it out, and the professor blew me off because he didn't know.

I just like the real world. I like knowing the exact value of the things I'm doing and not being forced to look further into them than the creator intended. I'm sure that the skills I gained in college enable me to see things more clearly, but that doesn't mean I want to revisit that suspended reality again.

But I do miss all those afternoon naps and the never-ending doobies I found at U of O.

You may be wondering what's going on, why I've posted so little this week. First I was sick, then I was blindsided yesterday by the resignation of my boss' boss, a woman I respect more than mere words can show. Knowing that this crazy market puts underqualified people in charge, working for her was amazing. Years of actual experience and a strong sense of compassion showed in everything she did. I wish her well, but I'm so bummed that she's leaving


I just learned that what seems to be the instinctive reaction to falling, putting your arms out in front of you, is actually learned.


Welcome to day 6 of my illness. Once again, I'm home from work. I was fine, I swear, until I went downstairs then I sat down and couldn't seem to get up again. So there will be no posting today, kids.


Huh? Spanish Internet provider to pay $12.5 billion for U.S.-based portal, Lycos.

Who Moved My Cheese? is a fantastic book title. Not that I want to read the book.

My uncle and I aren't particularly close, but since he dedicated his upcoming book, The Corporate Communications Bible to my mom, I'm swept with a momentary pride. Mostly in my mom, who is the most selfless person I've ever known but I'm thrilled that Bob recognizes that selflessness in such a public way.

That's it, I'm quitting my great job to become a Sexual Astrologer.

While perusing my referrer logs, I noticed that my site came up on a search of the word mullet. That was the LAST thing I had intended, hence the new name and a new cautionary note: be careful what you call yourself, it's all fodder for search engines.

In response, or rather, inspired by brig's tale of growing with out or out of a small startup...

For me, 50 people in a company is just right. Not so big that you don't know everyone, not so small that it's like a family. My most recent employer had 14 people when I joined, that was too small. Maybe if they had been the right 14 people, or led by the right 1 or 2 people, it would have been better. I don't know. All I know is that the marketing people across the hall may as well have been in Siberia, the way my boss (allegedy a marketer) talked about them and acted towards them and I'm sure they talked about us. Which led to a more marked separation, much more than what I thought was the natural engineering/marketing separation.

I think I like my current job so much because we really don't have any marketing people here yet. So nobody is making promises that we can't fulfil and nobody's bitching that marketing doesn't 'get it.' Because they're not here. Of course that also slows down the revenue stream, but at least there's no in-fighting.

Medicare is a huge fucking ripoff. Well, not Medicare itself, but the people who make a living off of it. And they get away with it because if you say anything to Medicare, they could decide not to cover your expenses and there you are, stuck with a huge bill that you can't afford.

How do I know this? My grandmother, the light of my life, has been in a hospital, then a nursing home for the last 6 months. She was rushed to the hospital recently, but not in an ambulance, in a private van, who charged 6 times what her regular transport guy charges. People like that are the reason there won't be shit left for me when I'm her age.

Anyone looking for a new pair of cute basset hounds? Bonnie and Clyde are between 4 and 6. Bonnie is blind, Clyde is her seeing-eye dog.

For all who were wondering, I went home sick yesterday. I think it helped but I still feel like walking death.


It seems that the Pho Hoa (you gotta love a website that's copyright 1995) near my house always has some entertainment value, beyond the service being fast but rude. Last night, this guy was describing with great fervor, the process he goes through with vendors at work. "They give us THREE COPIES of the receipt," he exlaimed "but nobody knows what to do with the third one! So they end up on MY DESK!" he cried with great relish.

This brilliant man bought "black plastic trays" then put the third copy in them, effectively cleaning off his desk. All of this was described in great detail and with such a commanding delivery that I was riveted.

His followup? Buying a shirt at Mervyn's. "I can use it to workout, or whatever!!"

Life is *so* better than fiction.

I'm sure you have been dying for a recap of my weekend visit to the happiest place on earth. The best word I can think of is: sick. Appendages to that word would be: runny nose, sore throat and the exitement of falling asleep as soon as I sat down on the rides.

Other than that, it was great.


Back from an exciting weekend in Anaheim. Sort of. Amusement parks when you are sick are not as fun as they ought to be, and let me assure you that log flumes late at night when you're sick and sitting in front are also a bad idea. But we made the most of it and had a pretty good time.


I realized just now that I'm happiest at work when I'm trying hard to code (or write stunning) under a deadline with my headphones cranked, in something of a trance.

Tomorrow at this time, I'll be at Disneyland, so if you come here looking for fresh insights to the world, you just won't find 'em. Not sure how that's different from any other day...

I really really hate Netscape. I really really hate myself for saying that but it's true.

I keep scrolling down to the picture of Ellie and smiling. She spent the day with me at the office yesterday and had a ball. After all, the requirement for being here is that she be with me at all times. Since that's her favorite thing in the world, she was thrilled.

Finally, a blog about breasts. The Breast Chronicles. I know the breast fans in my life were waiting for this.

Knowing that we all bring our own issues to everything doesn't mean it's easy to leave them behind.

My good friend has decided to move to the town where his girlfriend lives. It's really not that far away, and I didn't see him very much lately anyway. Really, I could see him more since I often drive dogs to that town. But, knowing that I once moved from Ohio to Oregon for a flimsy relationship that should have been a fling, I can't suport him. Yes, his situation is different than mine, but I can't get past the way I felt after Marcia dumped me, and there I was, alone, in a strange town where I didn't know anyone, living in what was a(laughingly, since I had no furniture and it looked the same after I left) 'our' apartment while she was out screwing an ugly nurse.

So in theory, I should put all this aside and support my friend. I'm trying, I really am.

It's all about drama. The condensed version of what's going on: remember the loan I got to pay off my car? It came late, so I knew my payoff would be late. So I called VW Credit to see if I'd owe more money. They said no and cashed my check promptly. Now they're saying that I owe them more money and I'm forced to threaten legal action. Good thing my dad's a lawyer!



More than once, people have backhandedly suggested to me that we just put Ellie down, since she's already sick. I never know how to react. She's not dead yet, in fact she's pretty happy, why would I take that away from her early? Maybe these people think they're doing me a favor by pointing this out, but come on kids, everyone has a different timetable for how they deal with things.

We have a formula for Ellie -- if she has 3 really bad days in a row, where she doesn't want to eat, follow me around or go for a walk, then it's time. But goddamn it, don't tell me how to care for my family or hint that by not ending her life right now (when she's happy and well cared for) I'm doing her a dis-service. The only dis-service done to her was being unceremoniously dumped by her previous family.

According to emode, home to many ways to waste time, or eh, gain valuable insight:

Does your relationship make other people nauseous? Ignore them -- they're just jealous. Your relationship is perfect, so why are you wasting your time on this test? The passion is still in full force, and the respect and admiration between the two of you makes your relationship a rare find. It appears that you are extremely close friends in addition to feeling a strong romantic connection. The combination of these two aspects makes for a wonderful relationship. So, congratulations and enjoy the love you've found!

And I will! Andrea, I love you.

One thing I didn't expect when searching and finding my birthmom was the challenge of gift-giving. My mom is easy, I've known her all my life and know what she likes, but my birthmom is a different story. Yes, we look alike, act alike but in essence we're strangers, loose aquaintences at best. Trying to find the right gift that says 'you're fabulous, thanks for bringing me into this world' without seeming like a total idiot, is tough.

Ohmygod, it's the story of my life at my most recent company. TheStandard.com: Take It and Leave It. brig, how did you know?

I see, you can kill your baby, then walk free after less than 2 years of prison? Delaware grants early release to young woman who killed newborn.


I just got an unsolicited email from a recruiter about a PRE-IPO company. That's great. I've never worked for one of those, let alone been burned on stock by one so I don't give a crap about options. These days I just want the heat to work all the time.

And this!! North America's biggest Sitka spruce tree, on the way to my favorite beach. Wow. All courtesy of Nostalgia.

I randomly found this pic of my favorite place in the world, the beach at Seaside Oregon. This is where my crazy fun friend Gail lives, and where I want my ashed to be strewn upon my death.

DotComGuy recently adopted a beagle through the spca, so if you ever want to see a beagle live, there ya go.


I spent almost 4 hours in a meeting with our ad agency, returning to work completely drained and starving. My salvation came when I saw White Castle cheesburgers in the vending machine. There is a god.

My mom told me about this, but I didn't know how funny it was until I saw President Clinton - Final Days. It's a bit long but oh so worth it!

Just when I thought the Whassup thing couldn't get any funnier... Budweiser - Wasabi. Thanks Andrea, love of my life and finder of funny shit.

I admit it, I'm counting the days until Friday morning, when we board the plane for a fun filled weekend in Orange County, home to Disneyland. I *so* need this. When I'm not looking forward to a trip (lately, my trips home to Ohio, for example), I pack at the last minute. But, when I'm totally stoked, I'll pack up to a week early, just in case. Rest assured, I'm packin' tonight for Disney.

While I make no real effort to increase my readership (it's not like I won't get my commission if I don't meet a quota), I sadistically check the Hot List to see if I'm listed. As if thinking occasionally that my site may be on there would make it so.

I just followed some blatant spam and bought my mom a really stellar Mother's day gift. Who knew?


How nice, Crash dummy families to yield intelligence on air bags.

I'm trying to find a good webpage about Garrett M. Brown, who was on the NBC show, Sisters, (and invented the Steadicam, who knew?) and now is featured in a safety commerical for Shell. I was all prepared to lament his career's downfall, but all I can find is Sister Loving Sisters.

They are both making that face!!!!

Last night I made the erroneous mistake of getting a carmel Frappucino after 10 pm. I ran around the house like a derelict, laughing hysterically at my own jokes. At one point, I sat down and leaned against the living room wall, laughing. Andrea wanted my attention, so I said "I'll be with you in a minute" and went on laughing.

I can just see Amy getting the Bookmobile gig. I would love to hitch a ride, we could cruise around Oakland saying "Heeeellloooo" to the fine readers who awaited our arrival. Then we could hijack it and drive to IKEA. How sweet would that be, grabbing some Swedish meatballs then jumping back in the Bookmobile.

I'm just cracking myself up today with all this Bookmobile talk.

Holy shit. Redherring.com - Will journalists become new media millionaires?- May 05, 2000 This article mentions a guy that I worked with briefly (aka about 2 days) at beyond. We bought another company, and this fellow with it. I guess he's hot shit, but it didn't seem that way last year. How do you go from being shitlisted to hotshit? Thanks Marnie for the link.

Is it appropriate to just IM someone you don't know because you've read their fabulous website?

I suppose not, given my convicition that what any artist has to offer me is mostly limited by their work. I've never gained anything from meeting an artist in person, in fact the (small to medium time) artists I tried to bond with one summer (first Sark, who was insanely standoffish, really turned me off to approaching people whose works I admire.

I almost met Sark because she's friends with friends of ours, something that I assumed would at least obligate her to give us the time of day, but no, she huddled with "her people" on the other side of the room, away from us lowlifes and rifraff. It's too bad, I really do admire her work, but it's all tainted now. It just doesn't seem real after that.

Later, I tried to meet the bad comedian Reno who I thought I had something in common with because she made this movie, in which her mother asked her if she was tracking down her birthmom just to make a movie about it. My newly (at the time) found birth grandmother had asked me if I found them only to write about it (this one question was arguably one of the most difficult moments of my life, not because of the question, but because it was asked. The answer still stands at no, I found them because I wanted to, because I needed to know more about my hidden history, I write about it so I can make sense of it all. They're wonderful people and I'm thrilled to know all of them but I didn't want to jeapordize our relationship or their privacy, so I largely stopped writing about them that day.) Given that similarity, which I thought was at the very least kind of unusual, I approached the almighty Reno after the film. After an hour of standing there, feeling decidedly unhip and oh so midwestern in the sea of trendy San Francisco-ites, I gave up. More like, she gave up, our only contact her pushing me gently out of her way as she moved on to trendier people.

While these two incidents sucked, they were eye-openers. Only after being brushed aside, did I see that what they, as artists, had to offer me was their work, not themselves. Does this mean that all I can offer my readers is this blog and the associated works of Liz that accompany it? I like to think no, but maybe. I'm different in real life than I am here. We all are.

But I know for sure that if I ever hit it big, or somehow find myself surrounded by people who want to talk to me, I'll make the most profound effort to hear what each of them has to say. Maybe that's the difference between the small-time celebrities I tried to meet and the bona-fide star, Joan fabulous Baez, who I met later that summer. Joan was gracious and kind, responded to my 15 seconds of gushing ("I just have to tell you -- you're awesome!!") with kindness and compassion. I'll never forget those 15 seconds and will always be grateful that she gave them to me.

I just sent Amy a job description that includes the requirements for driving the Bookmobile. How can you not apply with perks like the Bookmobile involved?

I am SO ready for our trip to Disneyland next week. The stress of having both dogs sick has been almost too much to bear, good thing they're both feeling better.


Today's virus must be the Mahir virus! I love you! I kiss you! I ruin hard drive yours and play ping pong.


Our upcoming trip to Disneyland will include dinner at Medieval Times. It's the corniest thing but I'm hopelessly addicted to it. Maybe it's the Medieval Grog or Medieval Pizza they serve.

Looking for the best way to resign from your job? Use the Random Letter of Resignation Generator.

Every turntable known to man is featured here. Do we all have too much time on our hands?

Andrea informed me that some of my posts are arrogant, or at the very least they come off that way. Who's to say? I don't think I'm arrogant but maybe, to you, I am. I don't mean to be but this medium is flawed -- no matter what I intend, the subtle dip in timbre that would let you know that I'm kidding is lost and it's easy (especially if we've never spoken) to assume that I'm not kidding, when I am. But I've always had this problem, while I've made great strides in my speaking life to overcome it, it's all but impossible to overcome here on the Web.

Which leaves me with 2 options -- 1) start writing in a more innocuous, less interesting, manner that makes it crystal clear that I'm kidding or 2) keep writing the way I have been (honestly, hinged by the knowledge that anything I say can be misinterpreted) and take my chances. If I went for #1, there's no point in blogging at all so I guess I'll do #2 and accept that some folks may occasionally mistake me for a real jerk.

I'm extremely grumpy today. Everything is pissing me off.


It's hard to know when to speak freely with people. I have some friends that I can always tell what I'm thinking about anything, including what they're doing. Generally, I give them sound advice. Other friends (and nameless relatives whose opinions I care very deeply about but would never ask for) I just want to shake and say "hello? You're pissing people (or me) off/ hurting people! Stop it!" But I can't. Why? Guess I value their friendship or whatever limited love they've shown me more than the fallout that seems inevitable.

I'm just not sure that everyone needs a website.

Talk about stuff that's good to know -- Air Force hits lowest readiness level in 15 years.

Would these protesters be there if it wasn't a warm comfy tropical paradise?

Today, Alice is better but she's doing everything in slow motion.

I had no idea that things like Faster Pussycat, Wax! Wax! went on.

I came home last night to find Alice breathing weird, snorting, and none too interested in dinner. After a mad dash to the emergency vet (sorry to everyone I cut off on the way) which included me yelling at her to keep her awake since I had no idea what was wrong, we made it to the emergency vet. She has pneumonia. I woke up every 2 hours to check on her breathing so now I'm wiped out. Alice is here with me at work, breathing heavy behind me but resting comfortably.


All those movies where they take a satellite photo and get so close that you can see Will Smith's teeth aren't that far from the truth. TerraServer.com

Holy cow! You CAN do everything online. Even take Disco dancing lessons. Bring your own polyester suit, though.

Is it just my connection, or is the Internet broken today?

International adoptees in U.S. struggle with identities. FYI -- all adopted kids struggle with their identity. Just because I was adopted in the same country where I was born doesn't mean it's easy to look at the faces around you, that reflect nothing of what you look like (not to mention vast personality differences) and not wonder if there are people out there who do look like you. I was lucky, I found a roomfull of people who look like me, but I think my identity will always be split between them.

Annie took us to a place that's almost better than Hot Pot City. A & J Noodles, where you can order everything from from fried chicken to hot & spicy wontons. We got a table full of food for 4 people and it only cost $31. Yum yum!

Recently I bought a clarinet off of ebay. The ad said it was 'nice, ' didn't mention that the A and Bflat keys had a leak, and that no self-respecting instrument repair shop would work on it. If you call that nice, then I guess I got what I paid for.

When the word extreme isn't enough: Suspension MUni.

The weekend was jam-packed with stuff, so much that I don't feel rested and I'm already counting down to next weekend. Played a 2 hour concert at an outdoor shopping mall yesterday, forgot to put sunscreen on my knees so they are a very sexy bright red. We also saw Cirque du Soliel's touring show, Dralion. It wasn't nearly as polished as either of their Vegas shows but at half the price, it was pretty cool. The way they pack up everything (including bathrooms with flushable toilets and an air-conditioned tent) was amazing.