Another fun part about yesterday's wedding was realizing that we were near Amy's fine home and driving by to see if she was awake. Her lights were off so we shouted "GOOD NITE AMYFRITZ!!" then sped towards home. Amy, thinking it was a dream, heard us. I'm stoked that I now know parts of SF well enough to say "hmm, this church is not far from Amy's house" and then know enough to get us there, then home via a different route than the way we came in. Looks like I've expanded my knowledge of SF beyond just Lee's Deli, Rincon Center, 1 Market (like Rincon, but $2 cheaper for just about everything and only 1 block away!) and the Caltrain station. Woo!
Sarah and Gregory's wedding yesterday was absolutely lovely. The most low-key, perfect reflection of who they are and how they are in the world. It was the easiest wedding to be part of, certainly the first time I'd really felt part of the ceremony. Gregory cried through most of it and Kim arrived just in time to see them kiss at the end. The reception was also low-key and lovely and despite me making jokes about wanting to bring a kielbasa in my purse to the vegetarian resurant, the food was delicious. Gregory's dad was released from the hospital in time to make it to the ceremony but unfortunately, took a turn for the worse during the reception and they had to call paramedics. Sarah stood with us, trying not to cry as her new father-in-law was carried out on a stretcher. I'm glad he was there for the ceremony, I'm sure it meant a great deal to all of them.
It's confirmed! It's finally Friday not just in China but here at my house, where today I am working (yes in my PJ's, as the laws of working from home dictate that you must). I'm still tired, despite a couple extra hours sleep (in my fine bed instead of on the train) but ready to have 2 days away from thinking about work. Tomorrow we're off to the NCWHL picnic, and Sunday is Sarah and Gregory's wedding. Should be lots of fun on all accounts!
OMG! I died!
It's been almost a year since Alice died. Hard to imagine that she's been gone that long, though some days it's hard to imagine that she was ever here, ever part of more than my memories. More and more lately, I'm able to talk about her without crying, without having my voice break at the thought of being parted from her. Sometimes I even smile at the memory.
Today's lesson in office etiquette -- if you go into your boss' office because it's quiet for a conference call, please close the door. Sometimes the open workspace is not my friend.
This week has lasted forever. I think it started with my weekend of no sleep, extended into Monday's 11:15 PM hockey game and has gone downhill since. I'm so ready for the weekend, even though I have to coach the girls at 7 am on Saturday again. It's all fun but at some point a girl needs to sleep a bit too.
The Puppetry of the Penis is coming to San Francisco next month. I must go. Yes, I'm gay. No, penii do nothing for me in a getting excited kinda way but they sure are funny and I like to laugh.
The weirdest moment of Sunday's Red game was when one of the players on my team asked what the rink's dog policy was. As captain, I'm expected to know answers to many questions, some reasonable, some just odd. The winner so far was 'Hey Liz, what's the rink's dog policy?' Umm, I assume no dogs. 'Oh, because my dog's in the car.' Suddenly, it's my responsibility to get the dog a new friend for the duration of the game, because as you know, there's no way I could ever encourage someone to leave their dog in a hot car.
Had a long IM conversation with my sister yesterday about the wedding and all that nonsense. She says her mom isn't very nice to a lot of people. I didn't hide anything about that day, good (how amazing she looked, how nice Don is) and bad (everything else).
Last night I coached the women's league and had a blast. Andrea's team is the nicest bunch of folks, most of whom I knew already from last season, making the getting to know you phase much quicker. They were supposed to have a mini-tournament but not enough skaters showed, so we combined 2 teams that were short and had a big bench. I kept my message consistent, flooded the brand-new players brains with way too much information but it seemed to work. A good time was had by all, at least I think. I can't wait to coach them again.
Oh and they won, 5-0! It's shaping up to be a great season.
I look as tired as I feel. 11:15 PM games are no good if you have to work the next day. Or even if you don't, it still takes a toll.
Last night an upstanding young man felt the need to mutter almost inaudibly under his breath as we passed by 'Dykes. Dykes." Like I didn't know. Imagine my great shock when I woke up this morning and saw another woman laying next to me, had that man not taken the time to let me know. That nice man saved me that great shock. Thanks sir. Really.
From the head of the Jr Girls Sharks program -- "Hi Liz- you were great with the girls!" That's what all the ladies say.
All of the execs with offices here in our SF location are at some conference today. Were I to have something to do that required me to be home early tonight, it would be the perfect day to take off early. But I don't. So I'll sit here lamenting their absence.
Saturday morning, I'm coaching the girls and for a moment I forget that they are all 12 or younger. They skate pretty well, have decent shots and look like adults with all their gear on. Okay, very short adults, but still. I look over at the bench, see a row of water bottles and catch my eyes on a gigantic SpongeBob Square Pants bottle that is shaped just like SpongeBob himself. I laughed out loud.
In homage to today, my second hockey birthday, let me take a moment to relive my first day of hockey class ever. I couldn't skate, I'd never really played any kind of sport, I was tired, my helmet didn't fit but for the first time in my life, I was determined to take a deep breath and do my best to do everything that was asked of me. Today, 2 years later, I skate fairly well, have a decent shot and have learned how to play as part of a team. I've also found my niche as captain and found a new circle of friends. I have more muscles and have lost some weight and gained confidence in my abilities to do all of the above -- make new friends, learn a new skill, be a leader, be a teammate. My life has changed completely and I can't wait to see what comes next.
Oh and I SCORED A GOAL LAST NIGHT!!!!
I also turned down a spot in the next level up in the Women's League. Decided it was time to stop being in such a hurry.
Getting up at the ass crack of dawn on both Saturday and Sunday makes it seem like it's not really a weekend. Coached the Jr Girls Sharks at 7 am Saturday -- they're a great bunch of skaters, a ton of fun to work with. The parents were happy to see a woman coach out there with them. I'm hoping they're so happy with my gender that they don't notice that some of their daughters skate better than I do, especially at 7 am! I had no idea I was a hard ass but when I saw some girls laying down on the ice, I skated over and told them to GET UP!! It should be loads of fun though.
Saturday night I coached the women's league, adding to my coaching mania for the weekend. That was fun too. More tiring than I would've imagined.
Sunday was the PAWSSF fun run. Amy, Zeus and I completed the 5k walk in a not so respectable 55 minutes, sprinting at the end for emphasis. They handed out bandanas, we put Zeus' on him but it was way too big so Amy got the bright idea to put his on his head like a lovely kerchief, making him pose for photos while we laughed so hard we nearly needed a Poise ® pad. He was a trooper for the whole thing, even when he got cold and overwhelmed. We took him to a sunny spot to warm him up as some freaky excersize person led us in stretches that encouraged one dog to hump her person from behind. It was a tall dog so the sight was something to behold.
After a brief power nap, I was off to the first Red game of the season. My hand-picked team is largely people I know and enjoy playing with. That leaves us a little short on powerhouses but sure to have a good time. We played a mini-tournament of 2 games and lost both. However, two good things happened: my new #1 jersey came in so I got to start the season with Alice's number. This gave me the skillz to SCORE A GOAL!!! The drought is over!!! I was a scoring center!! Woo!!
Suddenly my job is interesting and even at times, fun. How weird is that? After finally learning some life lessons, most of what I learned about how to keep a job is summarized by someone else in this article. Learn all my secrets now! The most critical ones for me were learning to eat a lot of crow (if you worked with me in the heady days of splendor, i.e. 1999, you know that I was a real jerk, quite full of myself. Those days are long over and for the most part, people now find me quite easy to work with. A lesson learned the hard way for sure) and being willing to take less money just to get working again. Today, I'm just over 1 year at my current job, largely because I started out at a shitty salary, doing a job I was more than qualified for, and I shut the hell up about it. After a couple of months, I asked for a raise, backed up why I should get it, and got it. Now I'm full time, survived 2 rounds of layoffs and still here. I still knock on wood when I say that and always will, grateful to have a job with a decent salary and benefits for both me and Andrea. That it's become interesting work is a long-awaited, hard-earned bonus.
Last night on Big Brother 3, two of the houseguests went on a boat trip on the Pacific Ocean. At one point they passed a buoy covered in seals and I shouted "WATER BASSETS!"
Andrea's car puked last night, convieniently located directly in front of our new funky ass mechanic. I do think we're getting to the point where duct tape and twine aren't working on the old Volvo as well as they used to. Sigh.
GlassDog says "If there's another thing I know for certain, it's that one's sexual preference is not a choice, otherwise I'd choose to have sex with everyone all the time because, you know, it's sex." and while he goes on to talk deliciously about coffee, this is the point that sticks in my mind. He's right. Sometimes, especially when I was younger, I wanted SO badly to be straight, to look at a guy and say 'He's SO hot!' And have it be true, even though from a very young age, I was busy looking at the woman next to him. Now that I'm older and care less about what people think, I would not choose to be straight (sorry guys, balls are nasty. Love ya anyway, but keep those things away from me!) because it's not who I am, not who I've ever been.
Which leads me to a confession. I'm a perv. Can't stop looking at hot women. That's one of the best perks about my job in San Fran -- the oodles of attractive gay women I see walking to lunch or to the train. Now that I'm fully at peace with being gay it's like I've given myself permission to look. And look. And go home every night to my beautiful girlfriend, grateful that she's still with my silly ass after all these years.
If you've ever pretended to be attracted to a breed of people because it seemed the socially appropriate thing to do, you know what I mean.
In my mind I am not blonde. Time to find some hair dye and make my hair match what I look like in my mind. Though I do kind of groove on looking like a surfer girl when I'm in Ohio.
Okay, I've looked at the bastard Jesus site so much that I now think I'm being blasphemous for doing so. I will now stop and say 10 Hail Mary's. Well, maybe not, but I'll stop looking at the site. Funny how growing up with relegion impacts you.
Wow. Just when the web couldn't get any more interesting, Bastard Son of the Lord comes along. Anything with Jesus and nads in the same sentence is sure to entertain. Thanks again Susan!
I really don't know why I found this so funny, but I did. Thanks to Susan for more entertainment than she'd have imagined:
Last night we went to some trendy sushi place for Andrea's birthday. I had too much to drink (been doing a little too much of that lately) but had largely sobered up by the time we left. For reasons too boring to explain, I'd driven to Palo Alto and barely caught the train from there that morning. I get to my car and buckle up, only to see out of the corner of my eye, a police car roll up, lights ablaze and siren blaring. There I sit, stunned, thinking "there's NO way they can know that I'm still a bit tipsy! I haven't even started the car!"
Then the cop gets out of the car and runs past me at full speed, toward whatever the real problem was. I then drive home slowly and carefully as a myriad of other law enforcement personnel speed past me going back where I came from.
After lunch, Glen had to go to the Post Office. In lieu of dutifully heading back to the office, Ching, Dylan and I decided to wait for him. While we're standing there, this guy rolls up in a brand new BMW convertable (a 5 series M3, so the guy had some cash), parks in the middle of the right lane, slaps his blinkers on and gets out of the car. He's a skinny guy, sporting a linen see-through shirt and these reddish grey metallic looking pants along with some black leather flip flops. He grabs his dry cleaning and swishes past us to the dry cleaners.
At this point we're mildly amused at his choice of parking space (the middle of the street is as good a place as any, I suppose) and start paying closer attention. At one point, he pops his head out of the dry cleaners, then goes back in. A moment later, he leaves the dry cleaners, looks toward the car (and us hooligans) then decides it's worth chancing and goes next door to the shoe repair place. Soon after, the nice lady from the dry cleaners looks at his car, checking for a tow truck, no doubt. All the while, we're making Dukes of Hazzard comments since the top is down. We're also pondering what we have to throw into the car but in the end do nothing but turn in a little cirlce so we all can see. Eventually the man saunters past us once again, dry cleaning in hand, and heads back to the car.
We think the adventure is over but no! it is not! He opens the trunk, presumably to put the dry cleaning away and instead gets out a white pair of leather flip flops, puts them on in place of his identical black ones, then heads into the Post Office. Finally, he emerges, gets into the car and leaves the scene. Glen comes out shortly after the man leaves and we walk back to the office along the Embarcadero (where they're making a movie) talking about how we'd film that little episode if we made a movie of it. Dylan would do 2 frames -- the top one with the guy's car and the bottom with the guy, including close ups of the flip-flops and our less than non-chalant reactions.
There is some good news: after unsuccessful wrangling last season, I am now officially a Green Division coach for the NCWHL. I'm totally looking forward to it. My goal is to do no harm and possibly do a little bit of good.
Two days after returning from the birth family extravaganza, I am still utterly exhausted and overwhelmed by the experience. Got a voice mail from my birthfather this morning, he wanted to see if I was okay and called me 'babe.' I'm too wiped out by the whole thing to know how I feel about that but I do know that I'm reluctant to pursue any kind of meaningful relationship.
Today is el birthday de AndreaTan! Happy birthday, Loo! I cleverly put her cards on her side of the bed when I left only to watch her roll over onto them, then wave goodbye as I walked out the door as the envelopes stuck out behind her shoulder.
My buddy Glen just used whiteout to change the coffee brand from yuban to yubad. Imagine that -- a joke, some mirth at the office. I'm almost starting to have fun here!
The best thing that happened this weekend was learning that my NCWHL team had voted me Most Sportsmanlike Player. It hadn't even occurred to me and I was thrilled to see that. I'm more proud of that than anything I've done in hockey. My goal is never really about winning but rather about playing as a team and having fun. I guess it showed! Thanks, Bleeding Edges!
I had debated writing too much about this weekend because it could offend some people but then I realized that what happened did happen to me and I have a right to share it or not. I met my birthfather for the first time just before the wedding. I had some preconceived notions of him thanks to my outspoken sister Rachel, and they were all pretty much true. He's a nice enough guy but very much interested in himself and would in fact like some salsa for that gigantic chip on his shoulder. After about 20 minutes, everyone he talked about (including my birth grandfather, Tom, who is a wonderful guy in my book) is as asshole and no less than 5 people he mentioned consider him a loser. His whole life story, it seemed from what I heard, was a meandering tale of people thinking he was a loser or screwing him over, then him writing them out of his life (mother, brother, friends, wife, the list was long). Maybe they are all assholes, who knows?
It seemed weird that after 30 years of never meeting me, he asked me hardly any questions about me. I did learn that he was in the middle school band (all state) and had challenged to be 1st chair, just to win then decline the chair so he could stick it to the girl who was first.
We went on to the wedding and I sat with him and his wife since they were the only people I knew, outside of my sister the bride. Birthfather's best friend showed up, he hadn't mentioned a word about me to this poor guy, until he sat down, when bfather said "This is my daughter, Liz." Classy. The service was lovely, they even had bagpipes! Rachel looked absolutely amazing, stunning and beautiful. I was proud to know her. There I also saw my 1/2 brother and sister for the first time. I grew so nervous seeing them that I almost passed out twice. It wasn't until after the service and after Rachel and her new hubby Don (a wonderful guy) greeted me that I started to learn just how much my birthfather is hated in that circle. I went down the receiving line and said simply "I'm Liz" to each person, brother and sister included. Bfather felt the need to tell my brother (who seemed overwhelmed by the whole experience to begin with) "THIS IS YOUR SISTER! SHE'S FROM CALIFORNIA" as brother stood there stunned to see bfather (who hasn't been around the kids for 6 years) let alone meet me. When I got to Rachel's mom, I said the same. She realized who I was and turned away with a scowl. In that moment, I was so hurt, so mad, and finally understood what it means to be hated for something well beyond your control. After that fine moment, we stood at the left side of the steps waiting for Rachel and Don to emerge and watched as the entire crowd went to the right, leaving just us on the left. Bfather went around talking to these people as if he was returning royalty, then returning to me and his wife to say that they're all assholes. I did my best not to cry but did eventually lose it as we waited for Rachel to arrive.
That was hard, first I'm not a crier, certainly not in public, and the last person I wanted to be weak in front of was bfather. He felt like he had to comfort me and hugged me way more than I would have wanted, especially in front of all those people. At that point, I had no desire to go to the reception and wanted only to drive home to Columbus and see my mom. As soon as Rachel and Don made their grand entrance, I couldn't get away from bfather soon enough. He walked me to my car, talking about the shit town Rachel's mom had made him move to and how they're all assholes. I left him with yet another hug that I didn't want as the smell of his cologne got all over my outfit, a lingering reminder of something I was all ready to forget. I drove to the reception, fully intending to just drop off my gift and head out of there. When I arrived, the doors were locked and these Nice People were outside, frustrated that they couldn't get in. I ended up blurting out my fresh trauma and crying into this woman's arms (she gave me a spontaneous hug that I did welcome). She is a friend of Rachels' from the Civil Air Patrol and told me not to leave, that I would sit with them and she'd take care of it. It was a gift from God that they were there when I needed a friendly face the most. I ended up hanging out with them and other CAP folks and having an okay time while avoiding Rachel's mom. I saw my other sister on the way out but didn't have any emotional energy left to do more than smile as I left.
When I got back yesterday morning, I was utterly exhuasted. My maroon tryouts were at 4:15 but I had a sinking feeling that I just wasn't physically or emotionally up for the stress of it. I went anyway with my stuff but as soon as we walked in the door I knew I shouldn't even try. I talked to the coordinator and wound up going to help set the level for the green folks trying out for Red. I had a great ego boost as I zoomed around a nice chunk of Green skaters trying for Red. My guess is there won't be a lot of folks moving up from Green or Red this season.
I'm in Ohio, getting geared up for my sister's wedding tomorrow. At the Hallmark store, they had a section called 'cards for every occasion' so I checked out the Sister/Wedding card. Not quite everyone since the only card they had talks about growing up together. Oh well, good try though.
Not much going on really, so uh, hi from Ohio.
Another great 1979 El Camino page: Trods denne store stykliste over de udskiftede dele, er der ingen tvivl om at El Caminoen har givet familien mange gode timer.. That's exactly what I was thinking!
I've played 3 on 3 hockey at Hockey Workout all summer. We were originally supposed to be in the lowest division, where we could have had a chance, but the schedule got screwed up and we wound up at the wrong level. We've lost every game and in the end, haven't had very much fun. All along I'd asked the owner to move us to the right level but it never happened. Last night was the last straw. Even with extra subs, we still lost. The owner saw how full our bench was and started bitching. I told him that we were trying to pull out a win and thought we'd give it a shot.
After the game, he asked if we were playing 5 on 5 (in my mind, real hockey) and that this season had been very disapointing to us. He replied that sometimes it takes time for a team to sort out the divisions. At that point, I'd had enough and launched into a speech that had been brewing in my mind for some time. Below is a reconstructed transcript of that speech:
"We signed up for the right division but you placed us in the wrong one. Even though we'd asked to move back to the division we signed up for, it never happened and we've lost every game. This season has been no fun for us. No fun. We're done playing here."
I stomped off, relieved that I'd said something. A few minutes later, he came over and asked to talk to me. JeneRae, my most excellent assistant captain (I'm lucky enough to have 3 of them on the 'real' team this season and my workload is a LOT lighter thanks to their efforts) came along too. The guy said 'I have a deal for you...', I said I hoped it involved a 1979 El Camino. He offered us a deal I couldn't refuse -- to play in the fall season as a team, for free, in the right division. So we're coming back, at least some/most of us are. A couple of the guys on this team have left the 'real' team to play on the other team so I'm sure they'll find our new, lower division, to be the wrong place, which is fine. I have a couple of people on the 'real' team who could benefit from this chance.
I'm glad I said something. In the past, I didn't and it just left me with a lot of frustration. Now I see that a couple of carefully worded sentences can have a huge impact.
Per advice from Brad and John Ashcroft, I am remaining alert, but defiant. Sort of like, "I'm paying attention! Fuck you!"
Not only is there a Starbuck's in the Tokyo airport, where we'll have a few hours to kill, but a Frish's Big Boy. Stay tuned for pics of me eating totally American shit food and coffee in foreign lands -- all the while being thrilled to do it. On Christmas day, I'd like to eat at KFC -- in China. And have rice. Today at lunch I realized that I know how to order 1 rice in Chinese, so I stood in the lobby of one market saying that phrase loudly as this nice Chinese woman looked at me funny. But I bet she knew I wanted 1 of rice.
The sad truth about what happens to more than 2/3 of the dogs who arrive in shelters today Albert's Story. It's not for the faint of heart but it may make you get your own pets spayed and neutered. At least I hope so.
Hockey *is* fun!
All the stress of having to rebuild the team paid off last night. No, we didn't win, but I had more fun than I've ever had playing co-ed hockey. What made it great? There were no players with monster egos, no players who talked trash on the ice or had fights during the game, no coach on the bench feeding the egos, none of that. It all worked together and I had a great time. It sounds like everyone else did too. I played center for the first time and did not screw it up. That's right, I made no major mistakes and even had some decent shots on goal and won most of my face offs. I came away happy that I'd decided to rebuild the team. It was most certainly worth the effort!
Speaking of collecting money, a member of Buddy's family has asked us to purchase wrapping paper to support his school. I find it very difficult that the dog I adopted to these people had to be killed and am torn between feeling so guilty that I want to buy one of everything or at least 100 things so he can get a big cool prize, and so ashamed of what happened with Buddy that I can't buy anything at all.
I'd better sit on this one for a while.
I just learned that if I collect a mere $4 more for the PAWS SF fun run, I'll be able to get a t-shirt. Does anyone out there have $4 to spare? It's for a great cause and gets me a t-shirt! Isn't that what begging for money on the Internet is all about?
One thing at a time
Yesterday, I was nervous about the Maroon tryouts. The second part of that tryout is on Sunday, too far away to get nervous about yet. Today, I'm nervous about playing center on the Big Ice, something I've not done but feel like is the right thing for the team. Tomorrow, I'll be nervous about rehearsing my Big Number in band, then Wednesday after band, I'll start getting nervous about my trip to Ohio. I'm meeting my birthfather, his lovely wife Jane and a sister and brother I've not met, as well as their mother, who is understandably upset that I'm going to be there. But I won't be nervous about that until these other things are behind me.
And yes, they are all things I like (including and especially having a sister, something I'd always longed for, even though it's not the same kind of relationship we would've had if we'd grown up together), but that doesn't preclude them from causing stress.
What a weekend. First Andrea needed some extra time to get all the doggies dropped off before coming up here on Friday night so Amy and I wound up (where else?) in a bar in her neighborhood, enjoying the many things that happy hour at an Irish pub has to offer. This includes reduced price beer, fine fried entrees and the obligitory sobriety-checking upstairs bathroom. We sat there for a long time and were good and tipsy when we left, stopping at an apartment building with a keypad to dial residents there on the street. We called Anna Dong but she wasn't home so we shouted her name the rest of the way back. "ANNA DONG!!! ANNA DONG!!"
When we got to Amy's fine pad, I grew obsessed with her roomate's cat, Otis, shouting "O-TIS!! I've got the fev-ah for the flav-ah of O-tis!' He did not appreciate my admiration. Neither did Anna Dong.
Andrea finally arrived and we made our way to our fine semi swank hotel, where we collapsed for a bit, then went out for Thai food. We had a fine evening, slept late and met Amy for more adventures in the morning, including me buying a lovely music stand, which I carried proudly around Amy's neighborhood. Saturday night, we headed back to lovely San Jose where Andrea took me to see blast! (which was not starring Anna Dong!). We'd seen part of it at Disneyland last winter and I was enthralled so Andrea kindly surprised me with tickets for our anniversary (in addition to the iPod, which rules in all ways). I found myself crying during the first number and couldn't understand until I realized that the last time we saw this show, Alice was still with us, albeit quite ill. I cried during all of the songs that are part of the Disney production (which is about 1/2 as long).
Sunday we did more work on the fucking sidewalk bricks, it's now about 1/ 2 done. Maybe more, I can't tell anymore. I rested until my maroon tryouts. I wasn't really nervous until about 10 minutes beforehand, when some of the green skaters I know started harassing me about *her* tryout, which wasn't an official tryout since she couldn't make the real one. We were nice enough to evaluate her during the green session but since I knew her, I chose not to, letting more impartial folks do the job. I told her this after (after we'd asked her to keep doing a drill during the tryout since she'd decided to stop. She did it for a few more seconds then turned to us and said 'is that enough'? Princess points were awarded to her at that point) the tryout while I was doing my pre-skating lace-check routine where I walk around and pretend that my skates are too loose so I can adjust them one more time. She was going on about how I should have evaluated her because that's part of the process and blah blah the league should be run this way and blah blah. Finally I grabbed her by both shoulders and said 'I need to go now, MY tryout is in 10 minutes.'
At that point I was nervous but went out there and did my stuff. I didn't skate as well as I'd wanted to but had lots of solid passes and good shots. I also thought I was going to puke and got a headache the instant one of my friends chose to tap me on the head. Thank you, lingering effect of my concussion.
I arrived home so worked up that I could hardly sleep, tossing and turning much of the night. When I got up, it marked the first day I thought that I just can't do this commute anymore.
Nope, I couldn't ho myself out to pay off my debt, mainly becuase you'd then have to explain what you were doing with not only the money you were given but the money you had to begin with. I generally get pissed having to explain why I walked to the left instead of the right, why I had the water on so hard while washing my face (I like the noise, okay?) so the level of detail that seems required to justify the kind of begging these folks are doing is just not for me.
But shit, if they get what they want out of it, good for them. It's just not for me, nor do I really agree with it.
Okay, so this nice lady is hard up for money because of a credit card debt. I'm trying to figure out how I feel about the similar sites that are cropping up, if she's getting her debt paid off (and she is, she's down from $20,000 to $6,000 as of this week), can it be that bad? I kinda think yes, that the struggle of making mistakes then paying (literally) the consequences is just part of the growing-up process. Would I know as much about managing money if the public had paid off my debt? I doubt it.
If I started my own website to raise money, I think it would say "Hi, I'm Liz and I like money. Can I have some of yours?" I doubt that would get the same response as this gal's site has but in the end we'd both be saying the same thing.
We're going to celebrate with a big night in a San Francisco hotel and a nice dinner. Or if we can't wait in line for a nice dinner, a decent dinner with no wait.
My lone remaining co-worker and I have hit the wall in terms of motivation. When nobody is watching what you do or gives a crap about it, it's hard to try hard.
Hard to beleive but 6 years ago today, Andrea and I finally figured out that we were supposed to be together. And we're still here. Woo!
My maroon tryout is Sunday night. Unlike when I tried out for Red, I'm hardly nervous about this. If I make it, great, if I don't, that's great too because Red has been a ton of fun. Speaking of things that make me nervous, last night was my first night back in band. Our esteemed section leader Jim, former Toastmasters International president and the most confident player I've ever met, was not there, he's retired from band so he can focus on his tennis and ping pong games, leaving yours truly (that means me) to fill his shoes. I now get to play all solos, short and long, including the full solo part for Unchained Melody, where I'll stand up in front of God, the band and everyone and play my part. Me -- Featured Soloist.
I don't think I'm up for inviting the 3 of you to come watch this event. It will be nerve-wracking enough to be surrounded by adoring fans of Chinese descent (we're playing at a Chinese festival) but thanks for considering it.
We continue to mourn the death of our ReplayTV. It's somewhat resurrected but neglected to tape Big Brother 3 last night, much to our chagrin. Could we be forced to hook up the VCR?
Somehow I find myself arguing the definition of chippie with a co-worker, who thinks that early 30's is old. Not to me (and geezers like me), sister!
Props go out to Heather and Gerald and to Susan for sponsoring me in the PAWS walk. Thanks to the generous contributions of my 3 readers (and my mom, who is not a reader), I am getting very close to my audacious goal of $45. Think we can make it to $100?
Woo hoo! Thanks to a pledge from my mom, my fundraising for the Paws SF 5k walk is off to a great start. If you'd like to contribute even $1 to this cause, please email me or paypal that address. You'll be a rock star if you do.
I put up a listing on the website for a 9 month old beagle just now and had a phone call from an unsuitable home within 5 minutes. Why does no one rush to the phone for the old guys?
Because Alice had pneumonia 4 times in the last 1.5 years of her life, I get scared anytime any of the dogs so much as coughs. Gus coughed 3 times over the weekend and wheezed twice this morning, so I wisked him into the vet. I dragged Patrick along because he needed a bordatella vaccine before they can stay at the kennel on Friday. The vet didn't see anything specific wrong with Gus, though he did get this horrified look while listening to his heart, which features a gigantic murmur. He let out a big sigh when I said yes, we know all about the murmur. Patrick is the only dog in the whole world who wags his tail and sits there nicely while the vet tech (a dear friend who came and sat with us at the surgery vet's after Alice had died) put the stuff up his nose. What a good boy.
Asked the boarding place if the bassets could stay w/ the big dogs instead of w/ the little dogs this weekend. They're looking into it but think that's okay.
As the hockey season grows nearer, I'm realizing that I am still very upset about having so many folks on the team defect, twice now I've heard people say that they understood that I'd kicked people off the team, one saying that was why so many of them left, because I'd kicked them all off. Yes, I kicked one person off. He was our best skater but was quite nasty to me and our coach. I stand behind that choice but resent the implication that I went around kicking people off. I would not have started the team in the first place had I known that so many people would leave.
Our first game is next week. Maybe I'll be more optimistic after that. Maybe.
Magic Rubber Ball
No, it's not something kinky. It's something Melinda brought when she came to visit last winter, this softball-sized ball made of rubber. Rainie, Zeus and Gus showed almost no interest in it and it's been laying around (under the couch mostly) ever since. A few days ago, I saw it and kicked it across the room. The bassets went running after it and Patrick has yet to lose interest. He just cruised by the office door with it in tow, twice, dropping it, letting it roll, then running after it. Thanks, Melinda!
Patrick and Gus, doing what they do best
My 3 bassets: Rainie (top), Patrick, and Gus
(left to right) Rainie, Patrick, Gus and Zeus. I swear they do wake up sometimes.
Gus, wondering why I was bothering him.
Sunday morning I got the bright idea to tear up the strip of land between the sidewalk and the street and put in bricks or something else that doesn't grow. I thought this would be a simple project, one we could do in a day. Like all home repairs/remodeling projects, I was wrong. 2 days of digging later, both beds are now 2 inches shallower than before and we might be ready to lay down the bricks. Every one of our neighbors came by during the process, making comments like "you should put sand down before laying the bricks" or "I know how to dig a ditch, here's how...". I smiled because talking to them was a welcome diversion but really, unless you're ready to pick up my shovel and dig me that ditch using your special method, don't make comments like that.
This morning at work, I also was told to lay down sand before putting the bricks down, in case I didn't know after being told 3 times this weekend.
The PAWS SF 5k walk is coming up and I need to start fundraising. I have to raise a whopping $45, please email me if you'd like to donate even a couple of bucks to the cause.