In honor of Halloween, allow me to show you what MissAlice put up with last year for me:

You have no idea how much I wish she was here to dress her up in it again this year. Instead I'm here with Mr. Puppyhard on, a little guy who does love me dearly.

I also caught the super industrious guy down the street and asked him about building a fence for us. He'll come over a week from Saturday and get started removing the Great White Trash Crater of San Jose. The nice people behind us have gone back to throwing trash through it so in addition to all the weeds and shit back there, we have a host of soda bottles. Let's see about adding that 2 foot lattice, shall we?

Patrick is very very clingy since we got back. I'm sitting here typing and here's behind me, whining and wagging his tail. I turn around to talk to him and I notice that he's sporting a raging puppy hard-on. Just for me. Oh gee, Patrick, that's just what I wanted.

The best part of working from home? Knowing that Gus thinks my shoulder is a worthy place to rest his head. I so wish I had a webcam going right now. Drool notwithstanding, I am loved by G-U-S.


I'm just tired. Not quite bone-tired like when we first bought the house and rushed over every night to work on it before we had to get out of the condo, madly painting, ripping up floors and getting high on tar remover. We brought Alice and Zeus over and locked them in the kitchen at first, to keep Al out of the paint, lest she think it was a snack. They liked being near us but we're happy about being cooped up. On one of those days, Zeus inaugurated the house by getting a sausage biscuit off the counter and giving it to Al. Let it never be said that she wasn't in charge.

Anyway, today I'm tired, but not like that.

And I'm still grumpy.

Patrick had another seizure yesterday. I finally talked to the vet, she wants to wait and see. We're to make notes of how often they're happening. She does think they're grand mal seizures that could be related to the bump on the head he may have had when he got the sore on his neck. That would be the best case scenario, since in time they would stop happening as his injury heals. I just want the little guy to be okay.


I am hella grumpy today. No, not at anything you did but at being extra tired, having surprise costs thrown at us by the mortgage guy and by co-workers launching a new product. Is it time to go yet?

Some good news: I had a great game last night with the Jets. I may be earning their respect at long last and hope to score my first 5 on 5 co-ed league goal very soon.

Some better news: Patrick had no seizures yesterday and seems to be settling down now that we're home. I just hope there's no foaming at the mouth while we're in China.

One more member of our meager staff was laid off today. Am I next or will my workload just increase until I can't take it anymore?

This is going to be my stock response for dumb clients and other people who are unable to grasp simple concepts: Dear (you know who), You are dumb. Please step away from the Internet and pursue a hobby outdoors.


I don't know how I could've forgotten to mention this. When I boarded the train this morning, I went to go to my right, through the bike car to the regular car just in front of it. As I turned, I look up and there is a nice man puking in the middle of the floor. Moron, there's an open door not far from there and a bathroom even closer. I sat in the cramped side of the car and couldn't sleep because my knees were in my chest. Thanks, Mr. Puke.

A woman who sits in my office has a new cell phone number that used to belong to someone who got a shitload of phone calls. For weeks my officemate has gotten at least 5 calls a day to this number, yet she refuses to change it and gets more and more pissed off about the calls every day.

OMG! Melinda sent me the funniest damn thing!

The bad part about the weekend was getting a call from our dogsitter that Patrick had had a seizure Saturday night while he was sleeping. He wet himself during it and when it was over, he looked at Patty and wagged his tail. He had another one last night, we're waiting to hear back from the vet on this.

Highlights of the Vegas trip:
  • First and foremost, winning the game in sudden death overtime on Friday night.
  • The 52 oz. football full of beer
  • Upgrading to first class on the way there and getting a snack that included warmed nuts and 2 free beers.
  • The cooler full of beer provided by the tournament staff after each game. There's nothing like strolling out of the locker room, beer in one hand and hockey bag in the other.
  • Brandon's Striptease act. Thank God the police were not present for that and nobody else seemed to be watching.
  • Riding the tram from the Mirage to Treasure Island, then back again.
  • Spending 3 hours at the same roulette table at the always classy Casino Royale. Don the pit boss had not only an attitude problem but several strangely placed large bandaids about his head and upper body.
  • The Palace Station, which gets all my votes for a decent, reasonably priced place to stay with a buffet that's cheaper than Reno buffets!
  • Playing hockey, in Vegas, with beer afterwards. I'm headed back in February for the women's tournament for sure!

Lesson learned in Vegas: a 52 oz. football of beer is NOT the thing to drink the nite before an 8 am hockey game. I'd never played hungover/still drunk before until that game. Lucky for me it was against a team of ASSHOLES with ASSHOLE fans who almost had a fight in the stands with our fans. After the game, I stumbled out of the locker room, desperate for a nap, when I couldn't find Andrea. So I head outside, passing through a vestibule full of the aforementioned angry fans. They stopped talking and stared at me as I wandered through, then did the same thing when I came back through, dejected that I couldn't find Andrea. I was genuinely worried that they'd do something to me, even though (unlike Glen) I played a relatively clean game. I admit that I did chuckle when a moron on their team who wasn't wearing any type of face shield took a puck to the face. I mean, duh. ASSHOLES.

We won 1 of 3 games, a new Jets record, besting last years 2 ties and 1 loss. Glen was a stud, and a goon at the same time.


I think I'll pass on The Western but I'm glad those guys stayed there and lived to write about it.

We will also spend a fair amount of time in Dingy old Downtown. I'm SO ready.

I vow to go to the Gold Spike at least once while we're in Vegas.

I'm so ready for Vegas, I think I'll go to the airport now. That way I'll be really ready for my flight tomorrow.

Why Andrea is cool: because she says "be extra careful out there," a play on the line from Hill Street Blues "be careful out there." My dad uses this line on me every time I head home from a visit, he's even snuck it onto a postit note inside my wallet. In many ways, she's not unlike my dad, sweet, kind, funny, silly and an all around nice person who would (and has) do almost anything for those they love. Yup, I'm lucky.

If there was a made for TV movie about Andrea's broken ankle, it would be "OWWWIIEEE!!! The Andrea Tan Story."

I leave for Vegas TOMORROW! If you want to join us, you can get a first class ticket for $379. I'm so ready for this trip and so is my team -- there have been buffet recap emails going out all morning. Vegas, here I come!


There's a big manhunt going on right now for the hit and run guy. Police are searching every pier and the financial district for him. All of those locations are not far from my office. Between that and the World Series, there are entirely too many people walking around outside here for me to feel calm. It was pointed out to me that the last time the Giants were in town w/ the World Series there was an earthquake during the game.

I'm going home early.

I am so tired of constantly being worried about getting laid off. I would love to use the money we have tucked away to do something around our house (new insulated windows, new fence, electricity, update the bathroom) but instead I horde it away in case Andrea or I gets laid off. Just when I think I have a smidgeon of security, the market gets worse and I know that just because I survived one round of layoffs does not mean I'll survive many more. It looks like they want to kill the version of our product that I work on so it's a matter of time/me learning new tricks in a hurry. Great.

Not the best way to start a day: Man May Have Stolen Car, Caused Three Hit & Runs, the last one ending right near my office. The streets were blocked off when I got off the streetcar, when I looked up the street, there it was, 2 cars, one banged up and one completely destroyed, with a yellow blanket over the drivers side. I assume that's covering the dead person.

Speaking of dead strangers in my day, a man was killed by Caltrain in Redwood City. The train was held up for an hour then they sent the San Jose passengers express to San Jose and dumped everyone else onto a bus. The train rolled into the San Jose station as I was waiting for mine, I knew that was the train had just killed someone.

My thoughts go out to these two people and their families.


The highlight of our trip to the library was getting off the escalator on the 2nd floor and seeing proudly displayed before me my young cousin's fine book of poetry. I am not kidding, there was Geoffrey's tome, "A Boy Aware: On Being Fifteen" staring me in the face. I shrieked for Andrea to come over and stare at the lovely display. Some nice Librarian thought it was worth showing off so there it was. Woo.

How funny is my dad:
Liz's Dad: Ii's Dad; what's up?
Liz2D2: just working
Liz2D2: blah blah work
Liz2D2: boring
Liz2D2: i'd rather be getting ready to go to Canada!
Liz's Dad: But think of all the money! is that what makes the world go around--at least to a point!
Liz2D2: true
Liz2D2: did mom tell you what happened to our fence?
Liz2D2: we officially have the White Trash backyard!
Liz2D2: part of the fence fell down in the way back, now there's this gigantic hole
Liz2D2: you can walk into the neighbors yard
Liz's Dad: good Lord, the giant crater of San Jose; you could sell admission tickets!
Liz's Dad: You ought to put all of us to work when were out there; sort of Tom sawyer like...
Liz2D2: that would be great
Liz2D2: i'd just give you some duct tape
Liz's Dad: It's wonderful stuff; just repaired an umbrella with it so I can walk the dogs in the rain!

Yesterday, Andrea and I dared to go in the back half of our backyard, a space that the guy who owned the joint before us had sectioned off and tied his dog up in. The fence back there is not hound-proof so we've never let the dogs back there and pretty much forgot about it. Well...the fence between our house and the charming folks behind us has fallen down in parts, leaving a big hole! It is such a White Trash haven now. Looks like the new windows will have to wait in lieu of a new fence, at least for that section.

I also ripped down half of the gigantic cactii we have back there. We plan to remove them altogether and one day soon make it a dog-friendly area (though how to handle the avacados is an open issue). I got pricklies all over, in my jeans, my shoes, my shirt and my hands. No fun, but the yard looks somewhat better if you ignore the gaping hole and the children staring at you from it.

Last night was my usual "It's Sunday, I can't sleep" night. I guess Patrick had the same problem, he was up waddling around all night too.

With what would have been Alice's 13th birthday coming up, I miss her even more. She came to me in a dream last night, looks like she's doing okay but knows that I miss her like crazy. You're damn right I do.

I'm trying to remain upbeat and pretend that today will turn out to be a fine day but we're out of regular Coke at the office. Vanilla coke is NOT a good breakfast beverage substitute.

My ankle is pretty much healed, I played almost like my old self, except that I've not been feeling well besides the ankle so I ran out of gas after 2 periods. We had a devastating 10-0 loss but the 11 of us (that's right, we were short 4 people, 3 of whom changed their evite responses the day of the game. Thanks) held it together reasonably well against a pretty tough team.

Independent Woman, played by Kittens is so odd but addictive.


I am having such a hard time getting work done today. Ready to go home and Rest.

Help the kids I coach!
We don't have to tell you this: hockey is expensive! We all make choices, give up luxuries and even some necessities to make hockey possible for our kids. Some families have already given up necessities and still their players may not be able to participate this season without a scholarship. The NorCal Rep Organization, a not-for-profit 501(c)(3) entity dedicated to helping the Jr. Sharks Tier Hockey Program, has been making scholarships happen for the past two years. We had an overwhelming 11 scholarship applications this year, and as such the funds are now depleted. Thus, we are asking for your contribution.

We make this request to provide immediate assistance to members of our own hockey family while the Fundraising Committee puts in place infrastructure to sustain fundraising throughout the season and beyond. We are excited about the work we have to do this season and we would appreciate your participation. Interested? Call us! In the meantime, your tax-deductible donation in the amount of $10 per family will benefit many kids within the club who need our help. There are roughly 90 boys and 40 girls playing Tier hockey so you can see that a direct donation of $10 per family will make a difference! While our immediate goal is to grant scholarships, our ultimate goal is to reduce the cost of hockey for all club members. Please send your donation to: Mr. Lou Silver, NorCal Rep Treasurer, 941 West Hedding Street, San Jose, CA 95126. Checks only please, reference 77-058522 on your check and for tax deduction purposes. Thank you!

Last night at the Sharks game, there was big adventure to be had. I was there as Dawn's escort, she's on the Jr Girls team I help coach, they were playing a 2 minute exhibition between periods. There was much hassle in getting the kids there, being escorted to the dressing room 2 hours before the game started, then going to our (free!) seats in half of their gear. On the way to our seats, we saw a bunch of the Edmonton Oilers stretching in their little Oilers jumpsuits (these fine garments look a lot like my dad's pajamas). Once in our seats, 1 mile off the ice, the girls had to leave 5 minutes into the 1st period to finish getting dressed. They got all ready and headed to the ice entrance, where many of them became very nervous. I was all excited, I've never been so close to an NHL game, I about wet myself when they had a face off not 15 feet away from us and when two guys crashed into the boards RIGHT THERE before my eyes. I look up and see that Glen's section is right in front of me, so I whip out the cell phone to tell him "LOOK AT ME! I'M OVER HERE!" when Elise, one of our skaters, starts crying, she's so nervous (gee, why? You're only about to play hockey in an NHL arena before 10,000 fans. The phone ringing, my moment of Glen Glory at hand, I hang up the phone and hug Elise, telling her to imagine all those people in their underwear.

As I'm standing there, I feel a full body check and spin around to shout "HEY!" but notice that it's Sharky, the mascot, who will be skating with the girls. Note: there seems to be more than one Sharky, one who skates and one who runs around like a moron.

The girls played great and I made myself useful by taking pictures through those cool holes in the glass for the press with my friend Christina's camera.


Andrea's right, we could never get our gang to pose like those well-behaved dogs in the photo.

What is it about puppies and cotton balls? Any new bag left unattended is sure to be strewn across the lawn. Later, Rainie decides to get into a bag of dog food while I'm sitting not 5 feet away. Punks.

The Daily Drool is discussing why we have bassets, here's our story:
We came to be devout Basset Moms in a roundabout way. First we were beagle moms, adopting 1, then a 2nd senior beagle in 1999 and 2000. Ellie came to us in April of 2000, at least 13 years old, had a gigantic tumor on her leg and was out of time in a shelter. We vowed to keep her happy and let her go to the Bridge in peace when it was time.

In October of 2000, Ellie's time was up. She'd had 6 months, 8 days of love, walks, dog park visits, McDonald's cheeseburgers, Krispy Kreme donuts and our hearts.

After her death, Arizona Basset Rescue was looking for donations to help with bassets they'd rescued from a puppy mill. I gave some money, asking that the sickest, hardest to place dog be named after Ellie, since there was nothing placeable about our Ellie.

Elliemama the basset was very pregnant and sick with tick fever. We watched her progress and 12 pups were born on Dec 31, 2000. At this point, we fell in love with Mama and asked about adopting her. It seems that Walt and Dena had also fallen for Mama so she'd be staying with them but Dena asked if we'd like to adopt a puppy?

A PUPPY? We're senior dog people, not puppy people!! No way!

But we watched them grow, saw their personalities emerge and knew in our hearts that these pups were our Ellie's grandbabies. So in early May of 2000, we went to Phoenix from San Jose armed with a Sherpa bag and brought our Rainie Roo pup home on the plane. From the moment she arrived in our home, we knew it was love. We met Elliemama and her family in Pasadena that Christmas for the DooDah (RooDah to us!) parade and got to see Rainie play with her littermates, Lexie and Rockie. It was amazing to see their bond and I told Dena that if any of the pups ever came back to the rescue, we'd like to adopt another one. Of course, I figured this would be after our 2 senior dogs were gone.

But no, this spring, Dena writes again, this time about Patrick, Rainie's littermate. We hemmed and hawed, not wanting 4 dogs in our home, but very much wanting Patrick. Eventually, we said yes (how could we not?) and met Patrick in Pasadena for the Basset Spring Games.

Now that he's been home a while, we know that the only thing better than 1 Roo is 2!

As always, I can't thank Dena and her tireless team of volunteers for raising the world's most wonderful, well-adjusted litter of pups and for allowing not just one but two of them to come into my life.

Speaking of Alice and of Good Things, I realized last week that Mr. Patrick is the best thing to happen to me since Alice. He's funny, sweet, silly, not too bright, and loves to follow me around. Every time I'm in a new room, I look back and there he is, asleep on the floor, but will wag his tail if I even look his way. I turned on the heat this morning for the first time of the season. I'm standing at the thermostat listening for the great whoosh of confirmation that the pilot light is lit when Patrick starts howling. In case you were wondering, that whoosh is not audible over howling.

Andrea had a dream about Alice last night. All of our dogs were running around the house in a pack, having fun, when she saw this flash of yellow and was like 'wait a minute!'. Al pulled out of line, smiled and wagged her tail and Andrea, then went back into the pack. She did this a few times, as Andrea tried to call her over. Alice wouldn't come, she was too busy having fun with the other dogs. I can only hope Al is saying hi and that she approves of our pack. I still miss her so very much.


There's this guy who drives a van around the Bay Area that's covered in literature about the truth behind the murder of John Lennon. He feels quite passionately that the culprit was in fact Stephen King and has written a book about the topic. Thank God he's entered the modern age and has a lovely website, for all you who want to know what really happened that day. I know it involves a grassy knoll and something about back, and to the left.

Nobody is blogging today. I guess after the fun of Reno and it's aftermath (oww! My spleen!) we're out of engery for fun things like Tourette's. However, if Amy rolled up in the Peppermill pirate ship float, I'd hop on with glee. I can't wait until our photo essay comes back from that nice man at the Fotomat.

Looking to trade Gold Ranch casino chips? Here's your guy.

And Glen is right, International people *do* all like Reno. How could you not? It's the land of splendor and the Gold Ranch Casion and RV Park, where the on-site resturant is Jack in the Box. If only it were staffed by Mormons, it would be perfect.

I hardly got any sleep last night. I was all wired up from the game (we lost but had fun) so I laid there thinking 'I still have 3 hours until I have to get up.' At one point Andrea was snoring so I called her a showoff. Now I'm very tired and perhaps a bit on the grumpy side.


In our house, if you call Rainie or Patrick, you get 2 bassets for the price of 1, as both come running. What a deal. Add that to my list of ways to save money.

I did not mention that there is a rainstorm in the Peppermill buffet. They also serve FaJitas and there was a statue wearing a fez made from an upside down casino coin cup right outside the ladies REST room.

While I was gone, Andrea used all the soap making products she's amassed and made a tray full of lovely soaps! Doggie foot print soap, little teeny turtle sitting on top of the soap soap, soap with massage bumps in it, soaps with Chinese and celtic characters on it, super dyke symbol soaps, a delightful soap adventure! Now we'll be clean in style.

On being captain
I'm the captain of 2 out of the 4 teams I play on (not all are full-time, 1 is half, one is as a sub). It has it's moments but I'm finding out that there's a lot more work involved than you could ever imagine and that as captain, it's almost impossible to warm up properly or get in a good stretch because people have lots of questions. No matter how many times I send out the schedule, people won't think to save it or print it out, no matter how I struggle to make lines that work well together, they'll bitch about their position (though thankfully, this is getting to be less and less as I keep them as consistent as possible), no matter how even I try to make it, some will bitch about ice time.

I urge everyone to just relax and have fun. That is the point of this after all. And yes, of course I should take my own advice but as captain/conceierge I feel compelled to make everyone happy. I need to find my own happy medium that lets me have some fun, too, without worrying quite so much.

Summer must be over, it's FREEZING in here. I'm working from home because I was supposed to be in on an exciting conference call at 8 am. This was of course cancelled late last nite but at that point I figured, screw it, I'm exhausted, 2 hours of extra sleep is a good idea. So I'm here, cold but unlike the office, I have the power to change that.

I am utterly exhausted from the trip. But it was great fun. Everyone should stay at the Peppermill. As I work, I keep expecting scantily clad women to offer me cocktails.

Oh, and we learned that showercaps make lovely additions to anyone's wardrobe.

Ahh Reno. Where to begin to describe our Great Adventure? I'll make a list, details maybe to follow:
  • The mormons at Wal-Mart in Tracy, offering to help find the NUTS in our family tree
  • Fully halloween decorated scooters headed toward the same Wal-Mart
  • The trying on of hats
  • My postcard of lovely downtown Tracy
  • Boomtown -- not the land of plenty
  • Our fine LODGE room at the Peppermill, who needs a jacuzzi or a wet bar anyway? Besides, track lighting is overrated.
  • Glen's pimpin grand suite at the Peppermill.
  • Glen being unable to turn off the sexy track liteing in said room
  • Snaggletooth in the pool
  • Posing on the Peppermill's float when a parade was nowhere nearby
  • Have a Rice Day
  • The Gold Ranch casino
  • Glen racing across the outlet mall parking lot at full speed, with the security guard in hot pursuit, at full speed in his golf cart
  • Honking at a Reno native who was ready to throw down because we wanted to wave at him
  • The meat.
  • Our new best friend, Anna Dong.


Back from vet. Patrick has a scratch. We have topicalnet ointment and all is well.

Got a foster basset last night. He's really a very nice, very scared dog, who will do well in a new home. It's weird but okay having a foster around again. I passed on an older beagle who was rumored to be agressive. After losing Skip and Buddy to agression this year, I'm not taking any more chances.

Stalkerpolooza is running late. As Glen says, if you're going to stalk me, at least have the decency to be on time. Our thoughts are with Amy as she prepares to kick him in the privates and sceam "THAT'S MY PURSE!"


With Stalkerpalooza beginning tomorrow, we're getting all geared up by laughing at incontinence. Makes sense to me. Please hand me a Poise.

Cheers to Amy and her librarian collegues who shusshed collectively when somone stood up to make an announcement today at lunch. Show em how it's done, my sisters with buns!

It's after 2 PM, officially time for me to get sick and twisted. Hello, and welcome to my afternoon of depravity.

We saw the Blue Angels at lunch! Many many flybys over the Bay Bridge. Bad ass!

I am weeping and very close to peeing my pants at this video. While you may think that watching a couple of grown people's hands play with Star Wars action figures (not dolls) would be not that exciting but the dialogue makes it all worthwhile.

I just learned that the girls I coach will be playing a mini-exhibition during the 1st and 2nd period of the Sharks game next week. Guess I'd better go cheer them on, even if they don't laugh at my jokes.

It is easy to make Your Mom jokes about moms you don't know but a challenge indeed to make them about moms you do know.

No milk
Today is not a good day. First I can't sleep on the train, now that I'm paranoid about not waking up. Then some guy at the train yard can't move some sort of object or railway-related item and we're stuck there for an extra 15 minutes, making me not quite late for work but barely arriving within the required 'core hours.' Then, I go to make my daily oatmeal (different, but not unlike my daily bread) only to find that there's no milk. The good news for Glen is that it means I'll be hungry extra-early today.


The regular NHL season starts tomorrow. Why am I so excited? The Blue Jackets are starting their 3rd season, have secured the #1 draft pick and are 6-3 preseason so far. If they make it to the playoffs, I'll move mountains to get to Columbus and get tickets to the game.

Top suggestions for ways to welcome Amy's stalker ex-boyfriend, in no particular order:
  1. Meet him at the airport then guide him to a bus bound for Stockton.
  2. Send a limo to the airport with anice driver who will pick him up and drive him around the Bay Area for hours.
  3. Tell him to take BART to Amy's house, her stop is West Oakland.
  4. Have Amy take him for a drive, then stop in front of the Police Station and explain why he should stop stalking her.
  5. Direct him back to Pittsburgh as soon as he gets off the plane.
  6. Have dinner near his lovely accomodations and rush in to backup Amy if things get out of hand.
  7. (The sad thing is, it seems that this is the only thing that will work) have some nice woman start making out with Amy in front of Mr. Stalker Man.
It's going to be a fine weekend. We will no doubt end it with a Variety of Hot Meat Items.


Someone is cooking one of those nasty ass rice bowls and it's stunk up the whole place. Blech. Somebody bring me some Lysol, stat!

Amy and I are headed to Reno this weekend, where we're sure to enjoy a Variety of hot Meat items at the Peppermill's Survivor Island Buffet.

A special note for that special thorn in Amy's side: IT'S OVER. DO NOT COME HERE. YOU ARE BEING SILLY. GET ON WITH YOUR LIFE, AMY IS BUSY.

The gift of distance
It's been 2 years today since Ellie died. Today, I'm sad, but I'm also able to remember the good times, her fiercely guarding her bone even though she had all of 8 teeth, her bad ass bark, the way she followed me around everywhere, loved McDonald's, donuts. Loving her was work, she was very ill from the moment we got her but I'm still proud of having been her mom. Now, she has a lovely basset namesake and somehow there are not one but two baby bassets in my life who are connected to her. That's quite a legacy.

She was a beautiful girl and I'm glad that we were able to give her 6 months, 8 days of love and comfort but I can't help but wish her own family had done right by her and put her down themselves rather than dump her.

Here's to you babygirl.

All you dog parents out there, please honor Ellie's memory by bringing a McDonald's hamburger (no onions) to your furry friends. They'll thank you and I will too.

This morning I found myself sleeping HARD on the train. So hard that I woke up when that nice man from Caltrain who cleans the trains was finishing up his work. I'm still all jittery from that and from the walk to work since the muni street car was LONG gone by the time I got off the train. It's going to be a long day.

A problem with starting to play for a team who's known you a while, known you since before you had the speed or the accuracy in your skills to really keep up with them is that you always are viewed as that *other* skater, the one who couldn't run with a pass, the one who isn't fast enough to chase down their breakaways. Every time I play for the Jets, I suggest that I play defense for them, I'm really better at that than at wing, but am greeted with these stares like 'no, you don't have the skilz.' Last night it was the same story, only my center also decided that even though I was WIDE OPEN in the high slot EVERY TIME we were in the offensive zone, it wasn't worth his time to pass it to me for a shot. I'm not sure how to handle any of this.

We did tie, 1-1. After our goalie got seriously injured in the 3rd period, we were lucky enough to borrow the Snowballs (aka the Snow Cones 2) goalie for the last 10 minutes but that was enough to kill our momentum. Oh well.


My rich uncle is chartering a jet to take my parents to a Notre Dame football game. My mom isn't thrilled about it, she doesn't like these one-day jaunts, especially when she's not in charge of the expidition (I know what you're thinking and it's not true, I'm nothing like her, I don't do this...okay maybe I do). She's convinced that the plane will go down and her poor dogies will be without food/water until arrangements can be made. We've talked about this on the phone twice today and come up with a plan. She may be able to relax soon...

Speaking of such plans, in case you were wondering, if Andrea and I both are wiped out on the same day:

  • Our friend Linea will handle all local, immediate issues. All involved parties have her contact info, including the dogsitter.
  • Zeus goes to the Doggfather, aka, Dan.
  • Rainie and Gus stay together with Dena.
  • Patrick goes to the Holders, who loved him when he was small and again when he returned to rescue after being with those people for a year.
The things you think about...

And speaking of boring, grownup shit to think about, our refinance finally went through. The rates are even lower so we're going to save a little more than we'd hoped for, but not as much as we'd thought we'd be able to. The payment will go down by over $600 and we won't have to make a payment in December so all of our nice friends and family could get Christmas gifts (you may celebrate some other holiday, but I was raised Catholic, to me the biggest holiday in December is Christmas. Just smile and say thank you.). Woo!

Looks like I missed getting stuck in Palo Alto by about 20 minutes when a guy was struck by the train. Poor guy.

For Andrea, who was wondering about traffic lights updates are coming to surface street lights soon.

Another exhausting, fun as hell weekend has passed. It started with a now-ritualistic trip to Sports Basement (aka Land of Splendor) with Amy, followed by an exciting (okay, not so much) BART ride to Fremont, then my first-ever ride on an old jalopy of an AC Transit bus and a 1 mile walk through a scary industrial zone to the Ice-O-Plex. Lesson learned: next time have some nice person pick me up at BART before the game. We tied, 1-1. I had some great shots (well not that great because they didn't go in) from the point and totally messed with a couple of wingers who decided that standing still on the goal line was the way to play. Not in my zone, thank you very much!

After the game, we went to this badass place called City Beach, which has volleyball, rock climbing, pool, ping pong and a host of other activities, including beer. What's not to like?

Saturday was more hockey madness, a class and another game with the Bandits. We lost 7-4 but it was so late and I was so tired I didn't really care. We also attended the TVAR annual dinner, where I realized a few things:

  1. Vegetarian lasanga is a waste of my time. Sorry, all you eggplant lovers.
  2. I am officially burned out on rescue.
  3. I cannot stomach hearing 'I was so sorry to hear about Alice' from people I hardly know.
We pretty much ran outta there after the dinner. I had a game to get to but really, just needed to get away from all those people who knew Alice.

Sunday, Team Wasabi (Andrea's team, who I'm coaching this season) had a stunning 7-1 victory! I was so touched when one of the wingers said to me "EVERYONE plays D!" something I learned from Ruth, something I try to pass on because it's true. The other goalie is a friend of friends, new to being in net but a fairly solid player. She got very competitive out there and was saying a lot of mean things to my players, who came to the bench either ready to cry or to spit. It was very disheartening but I did my best to keep them positive.

I rushed off to my Red game, where we had our first win -- 3-2! I was glad to see us coming together as a team so early in the season. I realized the team I picked it pretty much all grownups (average age is probably 35) compared to the other teams (average age of maybe 25) and that our collective experience in life and in hockey is going to make us a strong team. It means I can tell them things about positioning, strategy, whatever, and they understand that I'm just stepping up and being captain, not trying to be the boss of them. So fun. Staying in Red was clearly the right thing to do.

Last night I couldn't sleep and spent most of the night watching the clock as if my alarm clock had stopped working. A great way to start the week.

I'm back at the point where I don't think I can do the commute for much longer.


Glen speaks: airborne fecal matter - yet another great band name.

Having tourette's, even for a moment, is much more interesting than worrying!

Sometimes I wish my mother hadn't raised me so well, that it was easy for me to be all callous when I am hurt. Instead I try to do the right thing, not just for me but for all involved. But it takes so damn much energy!

VW sent me a nice letter yesterday telling me that my lease was about to expire and did I want to pick out a new VW? Which would be great except that in the summer of 2000 I spent far too much time getting a loan to pay off the car, then wrangling with VW about the payout amount, threatening legal action (good thing Mr. Dow-tay!, father of Liz, is a lawyer) and finally getting the fucking title from them. Imagine my great thrill when I saw this letter. I called this morning, evidently my account was never closed, hence the letter. Smooth, VW, real smooth.

I'm getting all perverted right on time today, instead of super early like yesterday. Good thing because the balance among us jokers at the office was just all off.

I guess I'm speechless today. Trying to wrap up a bunch of work stuff before the weekend and make lines for the team I coach and 2 teams I'm on. I think we got it all worked out though. And it's Friday. Woo hoo! The girls 7 am practice tomorrow is cancelled so I get to sleep in a whole extra 2 hours. Thankyoujesus.


Kevin found me the best t-shirt. Somehow I don't think it qualfies as business casual.

liz is extra-dirty, extra-early today. -glen

I just dreamed up the best product for people who provide oral sex to women -- a chin-shaped towlette.

Glen recommends an automatic mouthwash to go with the aforementioned product.

There's a massive QA effort going on here now and the office is full of people. For some reason, the addition of 2 extra people to the room I sit in has given one of my founding officemates (as in she was here before we were, not as in she founded the company) license to be super extra loud. It's now so fucking loud in here that even Gorrilaz 19-2000 at high volume isn't enough to drown out the ruckus. Good thing I don't have any work to do. Oh wait. I have a shitload and can't concentrate at all.

I could ask to move, sure, but there are no places left and with years of fighting carpal tunnel and finally winning, I am loathe to do anything to jealordize a situation that leaves me relatively pain-free at the end of the day.

I read Nicholas Sparks' books (yup, I like mindless fiction most of the time. All those years of thinking hard in college wore out my brain. The first 2 years after college I read nothing but every piece of lesbian fiction I could find) and am always irritated at the way he leaves one sentence as it's own paragraph throughout the book as if it's super important.

Then I realized I do it too.

What consistently strikes me as funny (funny interesting, not funny ha-ha) is that despite having this blog and with it, parts of my life laid bare, the truth is that I'm quite private and there are many many things I'll never share here. Maybe that seems obvious, maybe it's a surprise to you, but it's still the truth. Reading this blog means that you see what I've shown you and gives you license to infer whatever you choose from that, but it doesn't mean you know me, or any other writer/artist beyond what you see here.

I think in the end, Andrea is the only one who sees me, guts and all.

That's not my dog
When it comes to getting her nails trimmed, Rainie is Satan. This sweet dog who's generally quite mild-mannered turns into a raging beast who usually requires 3 people to hold her down while 1 brave soul does the trimming. She doesn't try to bite or anything, just to thrash around until you stop. Most of the time, we bite the bullet and pay the vet to do this but at $20 a pop for more than one dog (Rainie is not the only dog in our lives with this issue. They're all a far cry from Alice, who would give me her paw even if I missed and nicked her, she never complained) we decided to try it ourselves. Last night, we dug out the clippers and tried something new. Andrea squeezed Rainie up against the edge of the couch and leaned on her, putting herself between Rainie's line of vision and the evil clippers. After a mere 2 seconds of struggle, Roo gave up and I did the most complete nail trim I've ever done on her.

Emboldened, I went on to trim some of Gus' nails too but unlike Roo, he doesn't just wiggle, he bares his teeth so I was wary and only got a few. Zeus will remain a lost cause in this department forever but if we only have to pay for 1 instead of 3, it's a victory.


The best moment of last night's trip to REI was putting these swanky new insoles inside my shoes and feeling less heel pain that very instant. It was with great joy and happy feet that I waltzed to the register to check out. On the way the worst moment of last night's trip to REI happened. I tried on a very suave looking ski/snowboard helmet. I liked the way it fit and know that if we do go skiing/snowboarding this year I will of course wear a helmet. After the concussion, I'm not fucking around. Anyway. I'm standing there wearing this very sporty helmet when Andrea comes by and starts laughing. Later she tells me how I reminded her of this retarded kid at her church who used to wear a helmet all the time.

Sometimes a girl just can't win.

High Drama on Ebay
So... a month ago I bought a portable DVD player on ebay in anticipation of our trip to Chiner. When it came, I was shocked to see that it didn't have a screen (what's the point??) and contacted the seller, who assured me that it was as described. I didn't look too closely at it and re-sold it using the same listing. It turns out that it's actually not nearly in the condition it was described in, and now I'm stuck giving the guy I sold it to a refund. Naturally, I contacted the guy I bought it from who has decided to ignore me. I've filed a case with ebay's dispute resolution and the guy claims it's 'as described.' Horseshit.

So now I'm out $360.90 and not sure where else to go with this. I've asked him one more time for a refund but don't really expect an answer. Anyone got any idea how to handle this?.

BTW, the guy is ABCDeals on ebay. I would not recommend buying from him.


I think I've decided not to go to Ohio for Thanksgiving. It will just cost too much between a dogsitter (almost $100/day) and tickets, which are twice as costly as usual. I can't imagine Andrea would mind not going. I feel bad that my parents will be alone on the holiday again but hey the planes run out here too.

Happy Birthday Gus!
I pretty much missed it but 9/26 marked Gus' 1 year anniversary of being part of our family. When we first met him, he was a bone-thin boy, covered in fleas with most of his teeth worn down from a lifetime of flea itching. He was supposed to be a foster dog but he knew different sinece that first moment when those wise old eyes gazed up at me from inside the kennel at the shelter. Had we not taken him, he would have been euthanized there. Since then, he's filled out and re-invented himself as a basset. He's healthy and happy and makes me laugh as much as the bassets do.

Here's to many more years as Gus' mom.

Last night my brother had not one but 2 goals, one in each hockey game. He has mastered the art of being in the right place at the right time for the tip in. Woo! During our second game, Gerald was on fire, en feugo, hot! Stopped all but 2 of the 41 shots they took on us (we had 17, with the other Dow-tay!s goal our lone score) with many an extra suave move. I got to play D again since Laura the star center has returned, everything felt a lot better. We could actually win a game some day!