"Simply havin' a wonderful Christmastime"

That is the song playing on the radio right now. AZ and I just made a last-minute run to the Costco for birthday supplies, and now we're back at my house. I'm decorating my little tree (my efforts were thwarted on Friday...), and AZ is testing several recipes out for work. I donned my santa hat - yay! - and just HAD to stop and record this moment. It's a great moment, for we two are each in our own element, surrounded by music and lights and, oh...here comes the roomie. Soon, he too will be in his element: taste-testing the goodies :)

In memoriam

One of our board members, Peter E. Haas, died over the weekend. He was 86, and physcially very ill, so it was not a huge surprise, but still sad. One of the things about working at a family foundation is just that - it's a family foundation. All of our board memebers are related to each other, and this is a very hard time for them.

For the past month, our office has been going nuts trying to put together the numbers and grants to be discussed at our last board meeting of the quarter, which is scheduled for 2 days from now. It might be cancelled, now, which is fine and is just serving as a reminder of the truly important things in life.

Please pray for: Betsy, Pete, Wally, Doug, John, and Jennifer. These are our trustees. To them, Peter Sr. was not just the "honorary president;" he was uncle, father and grandfather. Also pray for Pam, our CEO, who was close to Peter, and Larry, Peter's assistant.

unforgettable

Admittedly, I can be bad with names. However, I met someone today whose name I shall NEVER forget.

Kermit Svinn.


Is that a great name, or what? He introduced himself to me during our rehearsal (he's a member of the Brentwood Arts Commission, which sponsored our Sing Along Messiah today) and I said:
"Oh my gosh. I love that. Nice to meet you, Kermit."
He cracked up and said, "Yeah, it's not easy being green", (and he was wearing - what else? - a green shirt).

A man named Kermit. Never in my life . . .

Final updated update . . .

12:45 pm

*whew*

Praise God for cell phones, google, Yahoo Instant Messenger and websites.

I can now peacefully make my way to Brentwood.


Bored this afternoon? Come to our Sing Along Messiah. You know you've always wanted to sing the Hallelujah Chorus . . .

Updated update . . .

Will wonders never cease?

PRAISE the LORD for His mercies big and small.

I still don't know WHEN I have to be there, but now I know where "there" is, thanks to DGS!!!!!! Thank you, thank you.

update...

praise the LORD my dsl is working again.


Everything else is, as yet, unresolved. But this is a step in the right direction . . .

grrrrrrrrr

I am frustrated to no end this evening.

I have to be in Brentwood tomorrow for a gig.

Time: around noon (exact time unknown)

Place: um, no clue (except for the fact that it's in Brentwood)

Auto Route: uh...no address to use as my "ending address"

Time for which my alarm clock needs to be set: No idea, because I don't know how far Brentwood is!


Why don't I have this information, you ask? Well, I thought I had it stored in my gmail somewhere, but apparently I don't. The needed details never made their way to me, and of course I just figured that all out this evening. I take full responsibility for that. But still . . .
ACK ACK ACK ACK. And I can't reach the one person whom I know has all of this info. Add to that an incapacitated DSL (thanks, SBC), sloooow dial-up, and the fact that I was supposed to be spending a relaxing evening putting up my Christmas decorations instead of all of this, and you get an on-edge opera singer.


I need a hug!!!

A life less ordinary*

Every now and then, I find myself in a season of waiting. Waiting for the next move, the next step, the next chance. Right now, I feel like I'm living in the middle of a pregnant pause. The first clause has just left God's lips, and I (the listener) am waiting for its conclusion.

I guess I am living a life less ordinary. Shoot, by virture of the fact that I have spent a quarter of my life studying opera makes my life "less ordinary". And, in SF at least, being a Christian is more than enough to qualify as less ordinary. But what does it really mean to life a life less ordinary? Who or what defines "ordinary" to begin with?

Any thoughts, fair readers?


*title thanks to dgs and CL

How to make Wednesday morning interesting . . .

10. Bring in chocolate alligators for the staff to munch on (thanks, AW).
9. Burn out the bathroom light. Call for maintenance.
8. Have toilet in said bathroom back up.
7. Bond with coworker over plunger.
6. Experience the *soothing* sounds of loud yoga music. Coming from the gym downstairs.
5. Type fedex labels on the typewriter. And pull out your hair.
4. Listen to your boss freak out in her office. Loudly.
3. Re-type aforementioned fedex labels, due to wrong contents of fedex envelopes.
2. Forget to take your allergy medicine. Try to type and sneeze at the same time.
1. Rinse. Repeat as necessary.

It's a small, small, world

Is it just me? Or do you guys notice that the world is shrinking, too? I realize the Bay Area is small, indeed, but still. It's cool and weird all at the same time.

Exhibit A:
Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I'm on an flight from SF to Denver, and I notice the girl kinda keep looking at me, like "Do we know each other?" It's not until we end up at DIA 'round midnight, that we finally connect, and she's like..."I think we go to the same church in SF, and we met once, like months ago". Crazy! Isn't that random?

Exhibit B:
Fast forward to tonight. One of my coworkers received some tickets to a recital at the Herbst this evening. She gave them to me, 'cause who else in the office is going to go hear an opera singer give a recital? Anywho . . . there actually IS one other singer in the office, N, and I asked her if she wanted to come along and hear Sari Gruber this evening. N immediately perked up: seems that she and Sari went to Yale together, and were friends! CRAZY!


Exhibit C:
At the aforementioned, I'm sitting in front of this people who are talking "shop" about singing blah blah blah. We get to chatting, and next thing I know, I might be able to make an easy $100 this weekend. For 1.5 hours of rehearsal/singing. Not to shabby. Turns out the guy saw Schicchi in January, etc. etc. Small world (especially when one starts getting into specialized areas...)

And now for something completely different

You must check out this site. Or I will particle-ize you. Seriously. I now know how, thanks to Cow Chip and Lance.

I can't believe I've never used different colors and fonts before.

In the words of Fabio:

I cahn't beliehve I hafen't seen Harry Pottah yet. :/

Thanksgiving 2005

I have had a wonderful weekend, full of friends and family (see left) and FUN. Here are some highlights, and some pictures!

I know some of you have been anticipating a report on Will's new girlfriend, Shanna (pronounced Shauna), who came out to Colorado for the holiday. Report: She passes. We all really like her. She's a smart one, funny and is totally in love with my brother (and vice versa). She's a yankee, so that proved for some funny times, as we were at a mainly Southern Thanksgiving feast. Nevertheless, she won us over with her wit, laughter, and kindness. Go, Will!!

We went up to Grand Lake for a quick trip. It was beautiful there in the ice and snow. We decided to go for a short hike, which was a little dangerous, due to the aforementioned ice and snow, but it was well worth it, as we got to see Adam's Falls. The top layer of the falls was frozen over, and you could see the water running underneath the blue-white ice. Amazing.



We also made Candy Houses. This is a tradition in my family which dates from...well, since I can remember. I think we only missed a couple years here and there. But we used to have huge candy house making parties with our friends - anywhere from 10-20 houses being built. In fact, Will learned to count by helping dole out the candy to each respective house-maker.
(Grand Lake, to the right).

My candy house




Will & Shanna's house (below)
All in all, we have much to be thankful for!!

I'd like to thank

my boss for letting us out of work early today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!! Love to you all!!!

La plus ca change . . .

merde. c temps d'ecrire une tirade en francais, et pourkoi? une fois, une amie m'a dit qu'il faut pas vivre par des sentiments. on peut les controler et pas etre controler par eux. mais, avec qq personnes, ca c impossible. il ya une heure, j'etais heureuse, contente et entrain d'ecrire un email a un nouvel ami. c tout. et maintenant j'approache mon point d'ebullition. ca c la verite. pourkoi donne-je tant d'importance a cette personne et ses pensees et sa comportement? ca veut dire koi de moi??? est-ce que c pourkoi il me reste des sentiments? ou bien que je fais tres attention a lui? mais c fou, ca. bien sur je suis capable d'aimer, mais suis-je destiner a vivre par des sentiments? ca c dangeureux, n'est-ce pas? a la meme fois, j'ai peur de ne PAS vivre comme ca. Mais c comme ca: je ne pense pas a lui sans le voir - je ne lui contacter pas, je ne lui parle pas, je ne fais rien. c lui qui le fais, e je me trouve pris dans les anciens sentiments. chaque fois. merde.
j'ai besoin de prier, probablement. mais prier pour koi exacte, je ne suis pas sur. pour etre heureuse? pour qu'il etre heureux? pour l'amnesie de ma part? c'est impossible, mais quand meme, c pas mal comme idee, ouais?!!! bon. maintenant je voudrais jouer de piano, mais je ne peux pas, il y'en a trop de monde ici et c impossible.
et, au meme fois que je me sens la colere, je me sens un peu triste et compatissante et je m'inquite de plus. Pourkoi cette reaction de brusquerie de sa parte? j'ai RIEN DIT (voir le post precedent...). Je sais qui'l est stresse, qu'il a des inquietes en ce qui concerne l'argent et le chant. et je ne peu pas le reparer. c Dieu seulement qui peux le faire. a apart de ca? j'ai peur qu'il serait "reparer" et j'ai peur qu'il ne serait pas "reparer".
mon dieu. je me sens un peu meilleure. ca m'aide d'ecrire comme ca. sans penser, sans reflechir, sans corriger, sans lire les phrases precendentes, sans jugement, sans prendre d'avis des autres, sans s'inquieter des pensees des autres, sans rien que les sentiments qui a lieu dans mes mots. ca me donne bcp de liberte, d'audacite, je me sens vraiment "moi"...la version la plus reele de moi-meme. pour que dieu me donne de patience, de tranquilite, du sang-froid et de foi...

-fin-

WTF?!?!?!?

Why did I just get the following series of emails:

1. "Hey. I want to see you. Are you around town December X? Please?"

and upon MY reply of "Ummmm...call me and we'll talk about it [cause I have some afternoon plans, and I wanted to a time frame...]

2. Response to the above: "mmmm. forget about it. Just wanting to talk about it means it's a big deal. See you next year".

?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Someone is having a bad day and taking it out on me. I'm all for listening to someone; in fact I enjoy it and I am a good sounding board. I am empathetic and honored and humble to be thought of as someone to turn to in time of need.

But I am not the whipping post.

7:45 A.M.

That is what time I arrived at the DMV this morning, book & iPod in tow. I was ready to wait in line.

After a mere five minutes, I made it to the front of the vehicle registration line and was expecting the worst. I explained the situation (see previous post) and the woman behind the counter said "Here is your number, wait over there, hon". What? She called me "hon"? And not in a weird way, but in the way that older waitresses at a 1950s themed diner call you "hon".

I was just turning on my iPod, ready to wait it out, when not 2 seconds after jeans met plastic chair did my number get called. WTF? I approached the window, received a pleasant greeting, explained the situation and -voila!- paid (with no extra late fees!), and took my receipt to the next window and got my sticker.

How much time did this take?

As I walked out the door and looked at my watch, it was !gasp! only 7:55 A.M.

10 minutes. Anyone know Guinness' phone number??

Making my father proud

...yet another one for the books.

I have to renew the registration for my car. Of course they sent me the renewal about three months ago, right before my big vacation. And, of course, I put it "away" for safe-keeping until my return.

It's now 5 days overdue. I totally lost the letter. So, tomorrow, I get to go to the DMV for 7:30 tomorrow morning. *yay*

In other news -

It is t-minus 6 days until I head home to Colorado for Thanksgiving. I am terribly excited. N0t only do I get to see my family, good friends, snow, and the mountains, I also get to meet the sibling's girlfriend! Wow. And when I say "get to meet", what I'm really saying is that we get to share a room and talk about Will all night. Heheeheheh. Whew. It will be a memorable weekend, for sure!

Breath of fresh air in this PC-cloistered city

So, I've been going to physical therapy for my foot (plantar fascitis) twice a week for the last three weeks. I LOVE the people at the clinic I go to; the doctor, J, is great. And her aide, M, is great. Their office is very welcoming and encouraging while at the same time they push us to do what they know we can. I look forward to going every time.

So, while I was being iced down at the end of my exercises today, M says something about Tom Cruise, scientology, weird stuff, blah blah blah. Then, out of the blue, he stars talking about Creationism vs. Evolutionism, and how he was in a fight with his brother about that the other day and what did we think?

I was impressed, just because for the most part, people here are so afraid to talk about ANYTHING having to do with religion - especially in "public" places (of work, etc).

So, M asks Dr. J, who replied (quite candidly) that she was agnostic. Her parents are buddhist, and she went to a methodist church for a while; now she believes something is up there, but not sure what. I asked M what he thought, and he said "I'm not a monkey" and from there went into saying how he believes in Adam and Eve, etc, and how he got in trouble during anthropology class at Berkeley for stating his creationism beliefs to the pro-evolution professor. He asked me what I thought, and I told him I believed the creationism side.

It was just an interesting night, and I'm glad the subject came up. Because in that type of "professional" situation, in rarely just "comes up". I think M might be muslim, but I'm not sure. Interesting, indeed.

Sad but true

I was reading an article by Greg Sandow in this weeks' SFCV newsletter about the disconnect which occurs between audience members and musicians during classical music concerts. I loved his last quote, pulled from Christopher Small's book Musicking:

This is the great paradox of the symphony concert, that such passionate outpourings of sound are being created by staid-looking ladies and gentlemen dressed uniformly in black and white, making the minimal amount of bodily gesture that is needed to produce the sounds, their expressionless faces concentrated on a piece of paper on a stand before them, while their listeners sit motionless and equally expressionless listening to the sounds. Neither group shows any outward sign of the experience they are all presumably undergoing.

I loved how he worded this: it's the perfect image. I hate it, because unfortunately, it is true.

Check out Greg's "book-in-progress" and his blog at ArtsJournal.

Bunny Suicides

Does the fact that I find this freaking hysterical make me sick and twisted?

sleepless in san francisco

That amazing Illy cappucino I had earlier? Should've made it a decaf . . . oh well

Music

A lot of people, upon finding out that I am a classically trained musician, ask me what my favorite song or piece of music is. The following 10 speak to me - for various reasons - and I just love them. So, for all you fellow music nerds:

Barber's Adagio for Strings - though I have a particular recording in which this is sung as an Agnus Dei, which is heart-breakingly beautiful

El Amor y la Muerte by Granados. Solo piano piece. I will never forget the first time I heard this: Alessio Bax at an SMU recital. I had never been so moved by a piano performance before.

Una furtiva lagrima from L'Elisir d'amore by Donizetti. Especially as sung by Placido Domingo or Jussi Bjorling.

Je dis que rien ne m'epouvante from Bizet's Carmen. I don't have a favorite recording of this, although some of my friends sing the hell out of it!!

In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel is probably my favorite pop song; with Bridge Over Troubled Water (Simon & Garfunkel) and U2's Love Rescue Me tied for second.

Chantilly Lace by the Big Bopper I LOVE because it reminds me of time spent at my grandmother's house.

La vida es un Carnaval as sung by Celia Cruz is my favorite salsa.

Amazing Grace. As sung by Gloria, my grandmother's helper for years and years. She sung this at my grandmother's funeral when I was 15, and it left its' indelible mark on me.

Chanson d'automne

Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon coeur
D'une langueur
Monotone.

Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l'heure,
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure

Et je m'en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m'emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.

*Paul Verlaine, Poèmes saturniens (1866)

"Keep out of reach of children"

Yesterday was Halloween. And, of course, I couldn't just let that slide by.
I got up, dug out my vampire teeth and threw them in a cup of Hydrogen Peroxide (they'd been sitting in my medicine cabinet for a year). I then drew an amazingly life-like (death-like?) vampire bite on my neck, using lip liner and three shades of eyeshadow.

Off to work!

I snuck around the office, creeping up on coworkers, and got some great reactions. I live for this stuff, man!

So, I get home, rush to Albertson's for eggs to make pumpkin bread, return home, get the bread in the oven and decide to go full out vampiress. Even though I'm just going to Bible study. I just really wanted to dress up!

Out comes the black shirt and cape-like wrap; the looong blond wig; bright red lips; pale, pale skin; dark, dramatic eyes. What is NOT to like about this costume, seriously?

I am running late. The pumpkin bread is taking to long. I'm supposed to be there at 7pm. It's 6:55.

I run in the bathroom, remember that I never took my medicine that morning, and grap my pills. I see a mug of water next to my sink and take a glup to wash down the meds......and it tasted NASTY!!!!

Slowly, and yet almost immediately, to my horror I realize that I have just taken quite a large swig of hydrogen peroxide. Yup. My fangs were soaking in that mug this morning.

I FREAK out and run to the living room where my roomate and his girlfriend had just sat down. I told them what happened, and I was like, 'what do I do? do I need a doctor? what??" The bottle says "Keep out of reach of children. If swallowed, contact a poison control center IMMEDIATELY". This did not help my state of mind, you see. Ryan was like, drink some water. And I did. And he tried to convince me that since the H2O2 had been sitting out, exposed to the air, all day, that I was going to be fine. I was kinda convinced, and left for Bible Study.

In the car, I called home. Mom answered, and I was like "I need to talk to Dad. Please. Now." He picks up, I tell him my story, and he calls the poison hotline and then calls me back. I am going to be fine. Did you know that sometimes vet's give dogs H2O2 to drink, because the bubbles induce vomiting? Well, I never got sick, so I guess I was okay.

I can just HEAR my father's comments to my mom after he hung up the phone with me. Something along the lines of "Well. Only [MezzoSF] would accidentally drink the hydrogen peroxide she was soaking her fangs in and call us for advice about the situation while dressed as a vampire on her way to Bible study with half-baked pumpkin bread. That must be your daughter."

I watched the funniest thing tonight.

Have you ever heard of Robot Chicken? WHY didn't I discover this sooner??? OMG. This show is so funny, it hurts!!!!

Thank you, Adult Swim!!

Scary movie

I love scary movies. I'm not sure why . . . I just like the suspense, the jumps, the twists and turns. I enjoy them, and usually am pretty good to sleep afterwards (except for E.T., which scares the shite out of me - but that's another story)

Many of my friends do not share my taste for the scary movie. Alan, however, does. We go to scary movies. Even the really bad ones, because in all of their hilarious awfulness, we can revel and laugh and even be startled, all in the name of fun.

One of the best ways to enjoy a scary movie, of course, is to go with a big, strong manly date who will let you hang on to his arm throughout the course of the film, and tell you when it's safe to look again. Alan, my flaming, dramatic, dear friend and I usually just end up clutching each others' arms in mutual fright. And crack each other up in the process.

Tonight we went to the late show of "The Fog." It was decent; MUCH better than "House of Wax" (although that's not really saying much). If you'd like some scary "fluff" movie, this is it. There are a few rough patches of "what just happened to the plot?"-ness, but it's pretty cohesive on the whole.

So. Good Haloween movie? Perhaps. But I would go see Saw II instead...

Fall is in the air

I can taste fall in the air. The crispness. The slight chill.

By my workplace, there are crunchy leaves, and I always go out of my way to step on them, much to the amusement of the valet standing in front of the restaurant next door...

I made pumpkin bread this evening for my bookclub, and it was very tasty. Even AZ commented that it was (and I quote) "your best yet". Coming from her - highly knowledgeable SF foody that she is - high praise indeed :)!

I am craving hot apple cider. And roasted chestnuts like one finds all over Paris around the holidays.

"Love means never having to say you're sorry . . ."

Did you know that the above is a line from the movie Love Story?

I just watched it. I netflixed it almost 2 months ago and just had not watched it yet. Of course you know the famous music theme, right?

It was a beautiful and tragic story. I cried and cried at the end. It was not unkin to my reaction during all of those *%?*!# Nicholas Sparks films. Alas. But I'm glad to have watched it.

Just add (holy) water

Our church is doing a church-wide Bible study (as seems to be the case twice a year or so) called "Better Together", and it encompasses 8 weeks of sermons, small group study and reading of the same titled book by Rick Warren. It is, I think, the second in a trilogy by the aforementioned uber-pastor from SoCal.

I must admit I went into this kind of a skeptic. I mean, Rick is cheesy. But, he also has some valid points. Anywho. I'm not here to blog about theology or doctrine or anything like that.

I have been going to my church in SF for about 3 years. For a good chunk of that time, I have been part of a small group Bible study, meeting on Monday nights. It started off as a group geared specifically for Graduate Students (which I was when I joined), and has now morphed into a Grad/Young Professionals under 30-type of group. There are a handful of us left from the first few months, but others have come and gone as people in SF are wont to do.

In this particular study, there is a big emphasis on getting people really involved in a small group - which is good. You build community, get connected to people and get to know one another better than just glancing over at the pew next to you and smiling at that girl who looks *vaguely* familiar (Is she new? Did we meet last week?) every Sunday.

But I digress...When our group met for the first time for the "Better Together" study, we found that we had practically tripled in number, and had about 40 people show up. That is NOT so small. Consequently, we broke down (randomly) into 3 small-er groups.

Now, before this branching, our group was pretty tight--we had all finally broken the mold and actually started becoming friends, confidantes, etc. All of these relationships were not built in a matter of weeks, but over the course of months, and in some cases, years.

The idea, however, that an 8-week study can create an "insta-bond" of deep community and fellowship is kind of absurd to me. I know - well - about one third of my new small group. Another third I would consider acquantainces, and the last are practically complete strangers.

We had some communication problems in our group this week. Probably - maybe? - due to the fact that we are trying to create this instantly intimate bond, without really being comfortable yet. People are sensitive, unsure, and hesitant about letting their guard down. Which, is NORMAL, I would like to point out, for a group of mostly strangers.

There is so much emphasis right now on "group togetherness" and a "group community project" - which (on paper) is an awesome idea. But we just seem to be having growing pains. I am one of two in charge of planning a social activity for our group. Bowling and pizza? You bet! The problem is scheduling (of course) and it feels a little like I'm planning "mandatory fun". Like, the only reason to go is because your mommy dropped you off at daycare and you have no choice.

I don't know.

It's only been three weeks. I've committed to stick it out, so we'll see what develops. I'm trying to keep an open mind, because I think it's important...but it's also difficult.

Did you ever notice

. . . that when you go to the movies, the shortest person in the group gets stuck sitting behind a really tall person? This almost happened to AZ last weekend. We were waiting for In Her Shoes to begin, wehn these a couple walked in at the last minute, and started down the row in front of us. AZ let out this little sound of "oh no....!" and the couple ended up just missing her by one seat.

Now, by this point, AZ has it made in the shade. Because unless a movie is sold out, people will avoid sitting next to a stranger at all costs. Hence, the lone single seat gets left. And the next couple will then sit in front of me.

Great.

Satisfaction

Is finally knowing the song well enough to sing along with the radio/cd/ipod with confidence.

And man that makes me feel cool, right?

Even though I'm really still a dork because I only know the chorus.

Remeber the Blues Traveler song "Hook"? Great song!

When I got that album in highschool, I played the song over and over and over until I learned the "fast part" in the middle. I remember spending hours laid out on the floor of my bedroom, listening to the song and reading the lyrics until I could sing the whole thing JUST like John Popper.

And to this day, I still can. Truly satisfying, indeed!

I am getting one of

these.

I am so excited.

Party Express

I just walked in the door. My feet are aching, my hair is a little chaotic (what's new?), I'm sweaty and still have plenty of adrenaline running through me. These are the classic post-salsa dancing symptoms.

Long story short, I went to a friend of a friend's birthday party tonight. We celebrated Erika's birthday with the help of the Party Express Bus. Basically you rent a bus to take you to 3 different clubs of your choosing in SF.

There were 15 of us on the bus, and our theme for the night was salsa. Erika is from Brazil, and had a mini-entourage of fellow brazilian girls in tow. Erika's husband is completely a compeletely gringo Mormon from Utah. But, they just seem to go together.

The rest of the crew was mixed; most didn't know how to salsa, but they were willing to try.

First stop: Roccapulco. I'm glad I finally got there. It's a nice large space with lots of tables to sit at. The bus just pulls up in front, the guide speaks to the bouncer, and we go straight in. No lines, no nothing. Beautiful. We started at 9:30, and at that hour, Roccapulco was pretty quiet, with only the DJ playing. Danced a few salsa's with on of the Brasilenha's husband, and we had a group merengue (everyone kinda got that rhythm down).
Just as the band was coming on, we had to be off to the next club.

Second: Club Caliente in SOMA. This place was packed, and we were definately an odd bunch to be going in, because
A. We were dressed for Cocomo (ie: no jeans) and everyone in here was more casual and
B. We had lots of tall blond girls (even though some were latin) who tended to stick out.
The DJ was playing Raeggaeton music when we came in, and we kind of danced in smallish circles. I eventually starting dancing with a guy for a while, until he put his face in my cleavage. Then, I was like..."I'm just here to dance, sorry" and told him he could go find someone else, no hard feelings. So, I go back to the group, and, suddenly, see a familiar face in the crowd (or, at least, a familiar looking shaved head). It was Adonai, a friend from salsa class. I couldn't believe it! We talked, and then the DJ started playing better music (merengue & salsa) so we danced until the party express had to take off.

Final stop: Cafe Cocomo. It's funny. This club was so intimidating to me in January of this year. Now, I walked in and it felt so familar---the music, the people, the decor, the vibe, was all welcoming me back. The band tonight was Pepe y su Orquesta Peru. Excellent! We got there around 11:45, managed to find an empty table in the corner, and went about the task of acquiring dance partners.

First up for me: Dago from Colombia. Really fun to dance with - but was trying to convince me that 'we had great energies together' and 'come dance with me 4 nights a week.' He gave me his number, and I promised not to throw it away.
Then we had Virgil, a stout, short mature man who was lots of fun. He had an interesting way of leading with his wrists...but he knew what he was doing and how to communicate, so it worked. We were being silly & danced for a while.
A had the opportunity to be one of two women (the other being "Carmen" aka Raquel) to dance with some guy at the same time. That was cool! How he did it (can't remember his name) I don't know, but it was neat.
The last dancer of the night was Marco. He was very much into the cuban style salsa, but led very well. He would do this crazy knee bends & hops --- seriously just like at the end of the movie Dance with Me. We took a photo together at the end of the night, and agreed to dance again next time we were both at Cocomo.
Finally, the clock sounded 2 am, the lights came up, and the strains of the Beach Boy's "Cocomo" begin to play. The night had come to an end. It was a great time.

Bon appetit

I went to Chapeau! for dinner tonight. It is this tiny little French bistro in the Richmond. And it was sooooooo delicious. And packed with patrons all night.

Menu:
Amuse-bouche: Melon and tea cold "soup" served in an espresso mug
Appetizer: Moules et frites
Entree: Cassoulet
Dessert: Tarte tatin
Coffee
Red wine

The chef came around and spoke with everyone. He was very nice.
In fact, after we left, and were half way down the block to the car, I hear this shouting behind me. I thought it was some crazy person, but then turned around and realized it was the chef. He was running after us, telling us to have a good evening, and asking if we enjoyed the food.
"Mais oui, c'etait superb, delicieux"...it was great to speak French. He gave us both kisses on the cheeks. And scooted back to the restaurant.

The perfect ending to a most pleasant dining experience.

The blue angels are in town!

They have two big shows in San Francisco this weekend.

They are practicing right now.

And they are flying back and forth right over our office.

I am like a two year old, barely able to sit still and get anything done, because I want to go see the airplanes fly by doing circles, spins and dives!

Seeing 20/20

I do not have good eyesight. But every now and then, God gives me 20/20 vision. He gives such clairty and understanding - albeit in hindsight painful at times - that I know He exists and listens and cares.

Today is a perfect example.

I've had an interesting week in regards to a certain man who shall remain nameless, but who has been a factor in my life for about a year. I will not bore you with all the minutiae, but I will say that he has been in and out of my life throughout 2005. When we ended things, they did not end with a bang . . . they just stopped. We lived on opposite coasts, and, well.....that ended that. And I knew that going into the relationship - I mean, I knew we would only be in the same city for a short while.
And yet, I decided to go for it.

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all." (Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

A major reprecussion of the "ending": lack of closure.
Everytime we saw each other this year, it felt (rekindled?) as if we were together again. Each gesture, speech pattern, habit, so familiar, comforting, wanted.

We spoke this last week - in person and via computer - of hypotheticals vs. reality and "what-if's" vs. "not likely's". We spoke of what it is to be happy, what it is to be committed (or not), what it is to be an artist, what it is to follow your heart, what it is to be one human interacting with another. We were approaching a closure of sorts. Actually talking about things that had been left unsaid.

I wrote a letter. Hid it in my drawer for a week. And then decided to let him read it. It was a good letter - no "I'm so unhappy without you letter," nor "I hate your guts...". It was a simple, truthful statement of feelings past, and present thoughts. I think I wrote out about 5 drafts of the thing! ha!

For me, the letter offered a closure. I am better able to express my thoughts in writing than I am in person. I get too nervous and tongue tied in person (especially around this particular person). I've gotten better as I've gotten older, but I still have a ways to go in this respect.

Closure. And yet this morning, en route to work, I could not stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. It sucks. But I can see that it is good.

How? God is looking out for me.

Example: I did not get cast in a part I really wanted. I am not a super diva, but I sang a damn good audition and I would have been perfect for it. But I didn't get cast, and was upset about this over the weekend. Last night, P told me that he got the part he wanted in this same show. If you have ever been in a theater production, you know how much time you spend with your castmates, and how that intensity fosters relationship(s). My heart could not have stood that.

Example: I went to Starbucks this morning, and my friend C was barista-ing. I had just gotten to work post tears-during-the-commute and she expressed some concern. I didn't have time to get into it right then. Fast forward to my lunch break. I'm walking to the deli, when I hear my name. I turn around, and there is C, smiling and telling me that she is buying me lunch. We sit and talk and pray and I am was so grateful for how much God blessed me today with C.

So. It is late and I am tired.

I don't regret my relationship with P. I will stick with Lord Tennyson on that one. I try to own my decisions, be they good or bad.

But, I am humbled that even when I am feeling frustrated, sad, worked-up, stubborn, emotionally tender, and weak, God sees all and grants vision to us. And He cares. And He loves.

The people at safeway are always so nice

When checking out at Safeway, the checkers never fail to look at the receipt and hand it to you saying "Thank you, Ms. Daniel" or "Thank you, Mr. Jones" etc etc.

And today was no exception.

I went to Safeway with our business card to buy some supplies for a goodbye party we're having at the office tomorrow. I swipe my personal safeway card - with my name on it (saved us $1.50!) - and then swiped our business visa.

I sign the credit card receipt.

The woman at the cash register hands me my copy and says "Thank you, Ms. Foundations".

You just can't make this stuff up, people. This is real life.

Unexpected Surprise

For the last few Wednesdays, the San Francisco Jazz Festival has been putting on outdoor, lunch time concerts at the park near my work.

Today was the Baguette Quartet. They were so fun, and very . . . Parisien. It was a pleasant surprise on this lovely day.

Tonight, I am geared up to go to Teatro Zinzanni's hurricain relief event. Zydeco music during happy hour followed by their "Love, Chaos & Dinner" show. All the expenses from this evening (artist's pay, ticket sales, drink sales, wait staff salary, even the $10 service charges) are going to the relief fund. AMAZNING. I feel guilty (but just a little) that I only am paying $10 for this $150+ event.
One of my former SFCM colleagues is still in the show, too, so that will be fun!

Reasons I love this time of year in San Francisco:
Strictly Bluegrass Festival
San Francisco Flamenco Festival
Italian Heritage Parade
Fall Film Festivals
Oktoberfest by the Bay
SF Jazz Fest
Ferry Building Harvest Festival

(And that's just October!!!)

Happy Brithday to ...

...random laundry!

Having actually missed the one year birthday of this blog, I am celebrating one year and 12 days! The extended birthday season...gotta love it. I actually cannot believe that I have been doing this for so long. I didn't think I had it in me!

---

I went to Cafe Lo Cubano today on accident. I took a new way home from work, and when I realized I couldn't make the left turn I wanted (what? no left in SF? shocker!), I ended up in a parking spot right outside.
I had been by this place with AZ before, but never inside.

I ventured in to get a coffee. A cafe con leche, to be precise. One of the best cups of coffee I've ever had in my life. SO good.

Get your own stapler!

I am totally living in "Office Space".

Realizing that my stapler can do this as totally made my day.

I also think our FedEx guy is hot.

I am such a dork, I know.

The Black Sheep?

You know how they say everyone has a "black sheep" in their family? Well, I wouldn't really say we have one of those, but we do have some characters, that's for sure.
My cousin, H, for example. He is brillant, no lie, and he tends to get himself into those types of situations reserved for ridiculously smart - yet stubborn - people. He is fearless, and lives life with gusto, and without reserve.
2005 has seen him in Eastern Europe (Romania and Poland) and Northern Africa. Just because he wanted to go. I have urged him - many in our family have - to write some sort of book, memoire, something about his adventures.
Here is an email he wrote, details from this last adventure, which I found so utterly amazing and amusing (and, it's all true), that I had to put it up. . .enjoy!
(NB: Keep in mind that H is not one to "blend in" to his surrounding - 6'4'', broad shoulders, and fire engine red hair...)
---
To: K
From: H
Subject: "War's Over: Wermer Dropped the Big One"

It always ends. And usually, it ain't pretty. Thus the Africa Expedition. I only made it as far as Morocco. After disembarking the boat at Tangier, I made my way to Essaouira on the Atlantic Coast, where I spent a few days windsurfing (and yes, I am one dead sexy bitch in a wetsuit), earning renown from the local surf bums as "Le Grand Chat" for my spry handling of the board. We stayed in a guest house overlooking the ocean and there was a girl who came everyday to cook dinner whose skills almost (note: almost) rivaled those of my mom, but I was impressed enough to ask her to marry me. She insisted I would have to give her family seven camels though. Alas, I am not a man of such means.
From the coast I proceeded to Marrakech, where I slept on a roof with a litter of kittens, put to sleep at night by the unremitting pipes of snake charmers and the beat of drums and awakened at 4:30 am by the chants of Muslim prayers. The markets of Marrakech are truly amazing, the sights and smells of piles of fruits, nuts, meats, spices and untold heaps of god knows what extending into an unsolvable maze of narrow alleyways. I am not much of a shopper though, but I did find some kids one day being hassled by a storekeep for kicking their soccer ball in front of the shops, and invariably into his piles of fruit and whatnot. So I assisted them in executing the water over the door trick, sending one to bait the enemy by grabbing a couple of oranges and attempting to juggle them while the other had positioned a bucket overhead. When the old man came running out, the string was pulled, and voila, douched! As we began to crack up though, his expression was decidedly not one of amusement. So he and his helper came chasing after us. We raced up an alley barely wider than my own wingspan, dodging scooters, donkeys, assorted stray animals and Muslims, but a couple of old geezers are no match for Le Grand Chat.
After leaving Marrakech I spent a couple of days crossing the High Atlas Mountains, camping in a river gorge one night, before heading for the desert. A day's drive brought me to the last town before the Sahara begins. I started off staying with some nomads about two hours camel ride into the desert. Forcibly risen at dawn by the sun, wind, and flies, we would get in a couple of ski runs down the dunes. They had skis and snowboards and we would hike up the dunes about 200 feet high and ski down. Then I had to go in to town to manage my fantasy baseball team, so Mubarek and I would cruise by the other tents to see if anyone wanted a ride to town, just like Johnny B at the bustop.
I hate commuting though, and while it might not be as miserable as 395 or 66, four hours a day getting your nuts crunched on a camel hump is somewhat less than comfortable. So I moved from the suburbs back into the city. Besides needing to oversee the team in the middle of the playoff hunt, I had heard rumors of camel races. Now wherever you are in the world, even in the last town before the desert, maybe especially in the last town before the desert, two things you will find anywhere are whores and gamblers. As someone who's skittish about touching the handrail in the metro, I'm not likely to seek out the former, but the latter, they always seem to find me. And sure enough I found myself on the windswept outskirts of town betting on slow ass camels.
The language barrier being even tougher out here, all negotiations (and everything in this country has to be haggled) for wagers, odds, and exchange rates had to be made by drawing figures in the sand with a stick. I weren't too good at picking the winners out though, and the losses were beginning to mount. One afternoon I had skipped one race and I was having a drink when I saw a camel jogging up who was moving faster even at a leisurely trot than any camel I had seen before. Armed with this inside info, when that camel appeared in a race shortly thereafter, I decided to take my shot at the title. I became the center of action for that race, I took every bet I could get my hands on, and ended up with every scrap of redeemable bank note I owned in the world pegged to this smelly hump of fur.
Of course, it turns out I only had half the inside info, because when the race started (the camels start from the down position) my camel didn't get up. He just sat there like he wanted to pick his nose with his hoof even as his jockey tried to yank him around. I started cussin him, cussin his momma, cussin his daddy, cussin his grandmamma and granddaddy, as were the others who had bet on him. So as we stood there, a dozen Arabs and a Redneck yelling our lungs out at this stupid camel, I was on the verge of either balling my eyes out or grabbing the nearest hard object I could find and whipping the snot out of the son of a bitch, when apparently one of my fellow punters managed to peg the fat fucker in the ass with a rock, which got him up and going. And whoosh, he was going, as far as camels going goes (we're not exactly talking Kentucky Derby here). He could hoof it about twice as fast as the other camels, and he was gaining fast. I started running alongside him, screaming, throwing my fists in the air, and he had almost caught up to the leader when I had The Vision.
My particular vision involved sitting at the Colonial Club in Mombasa this time tomorrow, served by an African man in a white linen suit, drinking gin rickeys on the shores of the cool blue waters of the Indian Ocean. But really The Vision is that image of ill-begotten luxury engineered by every gambler right before he finds himself in some distant desert outpost with the equivalent of about 75 cents in his pocket because his camel decides to turn off the track at the last second and just go galloping off into the desert. The inevitable additional insult was that while running my glasses pulled a slip and slide right off my face and under my shoe, and I returned to find the pieces buried in the sand.
And so there it ends: sitting at a café in the dusty streets of Merzouga, sand and sweat encrusted in every conceivable crevice, blind, broke, bewildered, beaten, shoveling out my last loose coins for a mint tea. Against all of which possibly I could have risen to fight again, but against the heat, against the mad, menacing sun, beating down on and baking me all day with no air conditioned refuge in which to repose and fan the bait and tackle, against that maddening fire I was a cowed, whimpering shell of a human. So I had to open up my bag to haggle for a ride to the next biggest town. The driver started at a pair of pants, two linen shirts, and a belt; I started with two pairs of dirty boxers. We settled on one shirt and a belt.
I got back to semi-civilization, got a bank wire, took a 12-hour bus ride packed with screaming Muslims and goats, and some more trains, boats, buses, and planes later made it back to the UK, where I could recuperate under the clouds and winds and drips of Scottish skies.
So I never actually ran any guns to freedom fighters. In fact, I never bought a gun, sold a gun, or even saw a gun. Nor did I import or export anything or become the internet porn tsar of Eastern Europe.
All I seemingly managed to do was get robbed by Hungarians, play cards with Cossacks, and dance the foxtrot in a Paris nightclub. But, you know, did the things in the days. I blew my wad and then some though, so I have to leave behind the world without calendars, without clocks, where morning actually did come twice a day or not at all. On this last pass through London, I've been hanging out with my cousin's friends who work in Parliament, eating at the staff cafeteria, drinking pints at the janitor's pub beneath the House of Commons. And soon enough that will be me again: a Citizen. Working for The Man.
Eating in the Dirksen cafeteria, knocking back cold guys at the Lounge, the struggle for Truth, Justice, and Freedom fading into anecdote. But somewere in the dim recesses of passing time an eye will remain open, a lighthouse scanning the dark waters for signs of hope, dreams of liberty. Because Freedom will live forever in the hearts and minds of The People, and should they ever need me, I reckon they'll know where to find me.
Liberté Toujours,
H

ARRRGGGHH part deux

Thank you, God, for my ENT, Dr. Tipton. He is amazing! Love him.

AS it turns out, I am (apparently) allergic to SF. Who knew?
The doc poked and prodded my face and head, and even did a wicked-cool (albeit a little gross) sinus scope. hooray.

His diagnosis (for today): bad allergies combined with jet lag and slightly inflamed left ear (I'm having a hard time hearing out of it..).

BUT, as well, chronic tonsilitis. ugh. He says I should consider getting my tonsils removed. Elective surgery is fun, yes?

I don't know. What it boils down to is this:
-Every time I catch a bug or a sniffle or something, there is a 50% chance it will turn into bad tonsilitis (bad for singing)!
-My concerns: what does this surgery entail? What's the recovery like? How would it affect my singing and how soon after could I start singing without risk of injury??

Lots to think about. hmmmmm.

ARRRGGHH!!!!!!!

Of course I am getting sick right now.

Of course.

When I have nothing but a month chock full of auditions.

Fabulous.

Please pray that I
1. Get in to see my doctor today or tomorrow.
2. Get adequate rest
3. Get better soon!!!!

I found this on Cassi's site . . .

...and it's pretty funny! Cassi is located here.
---------------------------
Things to do when seeing Lord Of The Rings:

1. Stand up halfway through the movie and yell loudly, "Wait! Where is Harry Potter?"

2. Block the entrance to the theater while screaming, "YOU.....SHALL....NOT..... PASS!"

3. Ask everyone around you if they think Gandalf went to Hogwarts.

4. Finish off every one of Elrond's lines with "Mis..ter Ander-sonnn."

5. When Aragorn is crowned king, stand up and at the top of your lungs sing, "And I did it.... MY way!"

6. Talk like Gollum all through the movie. At the end, bite off someone's finger and fall down the stairs.

7. Dress up as old ladies and reenact "The Battle of Helms Deep," Monty Python style.

8. When Denethor lights the fire, shout "Barbecue!"

9. In TTT when the Ents decide to march to war, stand up and shout, "RUN FOREST, RUN!"

10. Every time someone kills an Orc, yell: "That's what I'm Tolkien about!"

11. During a wide shot of a battle, inquire, "Where's Waldo?"

12. Start an Orc sing-a-long.

13. Come to the premiere dressed as Frankenfurter and wander around looking terribly confused.

14. When they go in the paths of the dead, wait for a tense moment and shout, "I see dead people!"

15. Imitate what you think a conversation between Gollum, Dobby and Yoda would be like.

16. Release a jar of daddy-long-legs into the theater during the Shelob scene.

17. Wonder out loud if Aragorn is going to run for governor of California.

18. When Shelob comes on, exclaim, "Man! Charlotte's really let herself go!"
----------------------------------

Siblings in Europe, September 2005

I just returned from my 10-day vacation in London, France and Italy. Not nearly enough time to cover all that we did, but we managed, thanks to Easy Cruise.

Here are a few pictures:

1. Mediterranean Sea

2. Spices at market in Nice, France

3. Portofino, Italia

4. Easy Cruise One



I am working on getting all of my pictures online for viewing . . .

Laissez les bon temps rouler...

The Big Easy. RIP . . .

Out here in SF, we are somewhat isolated from the truth - from what is actually happening. We see the escalating gas prices and complain to our co-workers.

This is what is happening:

1. Looting. Not just grocery stores, clothing stores and other dry goods stores. Huge walmarts have been completely emptied. Gun stores cleaned out. There is already violence amongst those still in New Orleans, but now there are gangs armed with AK-47s. People mugging, raping and using violence to get what everyone else is after: food, water, dry clothes, shoes. This is true desperation.

2. Flooding. Not just homes, businesses. But football stadiums are filled with water. Dirty, disease-ridden, waste-contaminated water. Jails are flooded out, the inmates taken to one section of the flooded out I-10, and placed between the floodwaters on one side and guards on the other.

3. Southern Louisiana is bayou and swamp country. Poisonous snakes and crocodiles can now swim the streets. My cousin, working for the Louisiana Department of Wildlife & Fisheries, has been sent to New Orleans with his boat to help round up these animals.

4. The weather: New Orleans at any time of year is humid 90-100%, and especially right now, HOT. There is no clean drinking water, no power, no shelter, to escape the heat and humidity.

5. Poverty rate. About 30% of New Orleans' population were leaving at or below poverty level. People who had verylittle or nothing to begin with, now have even less.

6. No mobility, no exit. People are trapped, many of them sick (diabetic, heart problems) and most dehydrated and without food. It's terribly hard to organize and physically difficult to navigate the flooded streets to actually reach the people that need to be rescued. There is a mandatory evacuation of New Orleans, but people don't know HOW to get out! It's impossible. They are DESPERATE to get out, but there is NO where to go and no means.

I could go on and on. People stranded, the losing battle of the police against the crime, the death toll, as yet to even be considered - there is just too much else to do. I do not mean for this to be a doomsday message. But this is the reality at this moment on the Gulf Coast.

I had some family members evacuate New Orleans before the storm hit. They are safe, and - PRAISE GOD - there is family in East Texas and Northern Louisiana to take care of them. But, they don't know if they'll ever get a chance to go home, or if that home even exists anymore.

Pray, people. Click here to help.

Azucar!

Wow. I just returned from an amazing concert at the Shoreline Ampetheatre.

First of all, it was the perfect day - clear skies, warm and just a hint of breeze. I met my friend, JG, at Serramonte mall. He lives in Daly City, so we met and then drove one car (his) down to San Jose. Outside of salsa class, and the occasional club outing, I've not gotten to spend a lot of time with JG. We had a lot of fun -- lots of laughter, learing new vocab, musica and yes, dancing (and that was just in the car ride down! lol).

Concert lineup:
1. Chayanne. Latin pop/rock. AMAZING. This guy can move and sing like no one's business. He had so much energy, and was so fun to watch. Of course, all the women went crazy when he came on stage (boy is goooood lookin'). His music was fun, lively, with a ballad or two thrown in, for good measure. All encapsulated in a lithe, leather pants-clad, stage-commanding presence. A captivating peformer.

2. Alejandro Fernandez. Traditional Mariachi and then some. JG had made a point of telling me on the way down that Alejandro was probably going to be the most popular at the concert, due to the majority Mexican crowd. I thought the girls went wild for Chayanne.

I was mistaken.

The stage is set - 15 or so mariachi. Then, enter the singer. Alejandro has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard. Strong, clear, and so easy sounding from the top to bottom. I bet he can sing anything! He was (I would venture to say) the crowd favorite. I was surrounded by voices - everyone knew all the words to his whole set. It was actually frustrating for me, because I wanted to join in, too. The music was moving and very passionate. The energy he put off on stage was unbelievable. Women threw their underwear at him (no joke!).

3. Marc Anthony. Salsa. Those people out there that say Marc is riding on J Lo's fame? They're crazy. He is a frigtenly good performer, crowd-worker and musician. He had so much fun on stage, and we the audience had a lot of fun. Hot hot salsa, amazing back up musicians, and limitless energy made for an exciting show.

Everyone was on their feet for the whole concert. It was THAT good...I had a wonderful time!

Notable story: We got back to JG's truck after the concert, and were about to leave, when he realized he was practically out of gas! After waiting for the stop-and-go situation to clear for about an hour, we took off, and found a gas station JUST in the nick of time.

Road trip pictures

Here are a couple pictures from my trip to Santa Fe a couple weeks ago. I was going to blog about the whole weekend, but decided instead to try posting the first ever photos on my blog!

1. Leaving Santa Fe. The sky is amazing in New Mexico:














2. Just north of the CO/NM border lie the ruins of The Morley Church.

TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The Survey
Name:	Katy
Birthday:	July 11, 1979
Birthplace:	Denver, CO
Current Location:	San Francisco, CA
Eye Color:	Blue
Hair Color:	"blond"
Height:	5'11.5''
Right Handed or Left Handed:	Right
Your Heritage:	euro-mix
The Shoes You Wore Today:	Black franco sarto flats - standard work shoe
Your Weakness:	books, cd's & foreign men (ha! j/k-but not really..)
Your Fears:	ET. tripping on stage.
Your Perfect Pizza:	mushrooms, olives, pesto, feta & spinach
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:	sucessful audition season
Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger:	ack
Thoughts First Waking Up:	"Scheisse! I'm running late already!"
Your Best Physical Feature:	Eyes
Your Bedtime:	Should be 11; on average, midnight
Your Most Missed Memory:	time spent with my grandparents
Pepsi or Coke:	Diet Vanilla Coke or Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi
MacDonalds or Burger King:	neither
Single or Group Dates:	depends on the guy...
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea:	Lipton
Chocolate or Vanilla:	chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee:	cappucino
Do you Smoke:	NO
Do you Swear:	i prefer foreign swear words
Do you Sing:	OH yes.
Do you Shower Daily:	Yes. But not necessarily wash my hair.
Have you Been in Love:	yes
Do you want to go to College:	Spent 7 years in institutions of higher learning
Do you want to get Married:	yes
Do you belive in yourself:	usually
Do you get Motion Sickness:	only in centrifuge-like amusement rides
Do you think you are Attractive:	sure
Are you a Health Freak:	sometimes
Do you get along with your Parents:	yes. they are great & weird
Do you like Thunderstorms:	yes!
Do you play an Instrument:	voice & piano. used to play trombone & handbells
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol:	yes
In the past month have you Smoked:	NO
In the past month have you been on Drugs:	NO. Well, allergy meds
In the past month have you gone on a Date:	yes
In the past month have you gone to a Mall:	no
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos:	no
In the past month have you eaten Sushi:	yes. mmm. california rolls..
In the past month have you been on Stage:	no...but gearing up for auditions this month
In the past month have you been Dumped:	no
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:	no
In the past month have you Stolen Anything:	no
Ever been Drunk:	once (bourbon street...)
Ever been called a Tease:	yes
Ever been Beaten up:	only stage combat
Ever Shoplifted:	no
How do you want to Die:	peacefully & quickly
What do you want to be when you Grow Up:	opera singer. performer. linguist. wife. all.
What country would you most like to Visit:	somewhere latin. and I am in love with France.
In a Boy/Girl..
Favourite Eye Color:	Dark
Favourite Hair Color:	Dark
Short or Long Hair:	just no buzz cuts or flat tops, please
Height:	5'10" and up. (I'm tall, you know!)
Weight:	proportionate
Best Clothing Style:	whatever makes you feel confident
Number of Drugs I have taken:	prescription only
Number of CDs I own:	too many to count
Number of Piercings:	just ears. but eyebrow piercings are sexy
Number of Tattoos:	i don't have any, but have not ruled them out
Number of things in my Past I Regret:	not a lot
CREATE YOUR OWN! - or - GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!

Small World

This afternoon, after work, and before heading off to teach diction here, I had some time to kill. I went to the wonderfully italian Emporio Rulli on Union Square for some tea (I know! Of all things, I should've had the espresso, but I'm trying not to drink so much coffee!).

I sat outside, going over the nights' lesson, when two tourists asked to share my table. They were whispering in German, and I just couldn't resist. I asked "Woher kommen sie?" and they started and just couldn't believe that some random american addressed them in Deutsch. Turns out they were visiting from Bavaria, and were travelling around the Bay and yosemite. The man's English was much better than my German, and we had a funny conversation flowing between the two languages. They were nice folks.

Act II: post diction class. I'm walking down O'Farrell, and I pass a crepe shop. Having not eaten yet, and smelling the delicious scents wafting from the open door, I stop in. Turns out this is no imitation crepe place -- it's the real deal! I ask for a "crepe complete", and the girl behind the counter shoots me a double take, and asks me if I'm French. Anywho...we start talking en francais, and totally have this fun connection for the next 10 minutes. I will definately go back for another crepe, but also just to chat!

In more news...my recent trip to Santa Fe was great fun. I'll post more about that later. Now, it's bedtime.

(NB: AZ-I've been cleaning in my closet!!!)

You know...

...that feeling you get when you're in the presence of someone and you just are yourself? Good side, bad side, stupid side, funny side, serious side, brain-fart side, etc etc? Someone who sees it all and still likes you (in spite of/because of) all of those things. That level of comfort with another human being is special, and I am blessed to have some relationships like that in my life.

This weekend, I had the chance to reconnect with someone very dear to me, whom I'd not seen in 5 years. It didn't feel like five years had gone by, but maybe only 6 months. I hadn't forgotten that rapport, but was a little stunned to have it back (in person) after so long.

Thank God for modern communication technology, as this friend lives in North Carolina, and *you know what?* 3,000 miles is a lot of distance!


(*that was just for you, AZ*)

Questions!

This is an Interactive Internet Question Game. I got it from Blackbird (who thinks I'm adorable! Thanks!)

This is how it's played:

1. If you want to play, leave a comment below saying so.
2. I'll post five unique questions to the comments section of this post.
3. You answer them in your blog.
4. In your post, you include this explanation and an offer to interview others.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Here are the questions Blackbird asked me:

1. You have a terrible rash, the lotion you need will make your entire body blue, for a week. will you use it?
Yes. But only if I can go by the alias "Smurfette" for the week. Or guest perform with Blue Man Group.

2. Snowboarding or surfboarding?
Hmmm. Despite growing up in Colorado, I've never, ever been snowboarding, so why start now? I'll go with surfboarding.

3. (you are so freakin adorable, just scanned your blog!) tell me what the perfect evening out is.
Starts off with dinner at home with a couple friends, then we meet up with a bigger group of people for salsa dancing-preferably at Cafe Cocomo-and stay as late as our feet can handle it. Post salsa, perhaps satisfy any appetite worked up with all that dancing at the Video Cafe, and then head to Ocean beach for a gaze at the stars (unless, of course, there's fog, in which case you just head home and play scrabble).

4. favorite opera? Easy: Carmen. I would LOVE to sing her!

5. sailing on a large power yacht or large sailboat? with crew of course. Large power yacht (I've never been on one! Sounds like fun!) Can the crew all be brazilian?

PS: Blackbird, NOt to worry, I'm *ALWAYS* a good girl! :)

Darfur Freedom Summer Concert

Heads up San Franciscans!

From 5-7 p.m. on Thursday, July 21st, head to Justin Hermann Plaza @ Embarcadero One for a the Darfur Freedom Vigils happening all over the world. San Francisco's will be featuring local bands Tremolo, M.O.V.E., and Paradigm.

Since Feb. 2003, the government of Sudan has employed a militia known as the Janjaweed to eliminate African tribes living in Western Sudan. The Janjaweed's methods have included murder, mutilation, sexual violence, crucifixion, and the destruction of entire villages by fire. Over 400,000 people have died.

Last year at this time, Congress unanimously declared a genocide in Darfur. This year, join people throughout the U.S. and Kenya, Mexico and France as they commemorate the lives that have been lost.

The concert is co-sponsored by Golden Gate Community Church, Genocide Intervention Fund, Jewish Community Relations Council, American Jewish World Service, San Francisco Bay Area Darfur Coalition, www.stopgenocidenow.org , Stanford STAND, and the Office of Public Policy and Social Concerns, Archdiocese of San Francisco.

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Next weekend, be sure to check out San Francisco's First Annual AfroFunk Festival, with proceeds going to the "Save the Children Fund" for Darfur, Sudan. The Festival will take place at the Elbo Room on July 29th and 30th.

El Zocalo

Post salsa class last night, walked to El Zocalo with some of the salsa folk for a quick bite. El Zocalo serves Mexican and Salvadorian food. Cheap and tasty. I had a papusa for the first time (yum!), and tried someone elses' chilate with sweet yams, plaintains and something fried served in the side. The dinner was capped off by wandering musicians who came in a played a few tunes. Good times all around.

Check out El Zocalo: 3230 Mission Street (near 29th)

etc.....

I've many different things I've wanted to post about recentlly. I guess I'll just do a patch-work quilt of subjects, here.

1. London: PRAISE GOD that my brother is safe. He, his friends, classmates, etc are all accounted for, as are the handful of friends I've over there. Hallelujah. Interestingly enough, the cabinet minister for whom he works, has just been appointed the minister for the Olympics, as well as minister for the families of the victimes of the recent bombings. Wonder if he'll be offered a more permanent job there (and if so, if he'll take it...)?

2. Only my mother could use this phrase: "Those jeans are rather butt-sprung, aren't they?" I'm not exactly sure what that means...but let's just use our imaginations, now, shall we?

3. My airport adventure, as taken from the book of AZ's airport adventures, from SFO on Friday, shall be (not so) briefly recapped here:
-Arrive at 5pm sharp for my 6:30 flight (no baggage to check)
-Discover said flight has been delayd until 10:oopm!!
-Return to terminal (I'd already been through security) to speak with a ticket agent about another flight
-Nice United lady says I can get on an 8pm Frontier flight. She prints me out a paper ticket and sends me on my way.
-United is at the far end of terminal 3. Frontier is at the farthest end of terminal 1. I walk, cheerfully whistling, through barren terminal 2 to the Frontier counter.
-Not-so-nice frontier lady tells me that, while I CAN get on the flight, I am missing a CRUCIAL signature from the United lady.
-Walk BACK through barren terminal 2 to the far end of terminal 1.
-Wait in line for 45 minutes. For a 5 second signature.
-Start back towards the desolate terminal 2, to get back to Frontier.
-En Route, am "picked up" by one of the United ticket agents. His name is Sam, he speaks several languages, has lived in SF for 25 years, hangs out with some of the Giants, might know my friend B who works for the Giants and gives me his phone number for when I return to SF. Still undecided on whether or not I'll call....(maybe email).
-Return to Frontier, wait in line and get checked in
-Head to security
-Get randomly selected for a strip search and to have all of my bags thoroughly checked (re: feminine products conveniently spilled out by the guy searching). Great.
-Finally make it to the concourse. And, happiness arrives in the form of my friend Skot, who is making his way to SoCal for the weekend.
-AFter having been walking the airport for close to 4 hours, S and I sit and have a beer, as our gates are right next to one another's.
-My flight ends up getting in late (around midnight) and my folks pick me up and we drive another 2.5 hours to the mountains. My dad snoozing in the back seat, while me and my mom chat it up in the front.

I can't believe I forgot to post this!

San Francisco's Precious Cheese 2005 North Beach Festival was two weekends ago. It was SO fun:

-Food
-Live bands of all persuasions
-Sidewalk chalk art (my personal vote for most tacky goes to a really well done portrait of the mona lisa, with leonardo dicaprio added in beside her)
-Pizza tossing
-GREAT people watching.

HOWEVER, my hightlight (by far) was .........drumroll, please...............

Getting to meet Gianni Russo, aka Carlo Rizzi, Connie's jerk first husband, in The Godfather. I got my picture taken with him, as well as an autograph! AWESOME!!!

Thoughts

What a crazy week. Crazy in a good way, mind you.

I have been keeping myself busy. And, really, when I stop to think about it - which, I don't really want to do, but I've just started doing - I have to ask myself why.

Why do I fill my days and nights so full that I fall into bed (too late) only to wake up still feeling exhausted? I tell myself that it is worth it; that I am enjoying my 20's in the fabulous city of SF. And, in truth, I am. I am having SO much fun.

On the other hand, I am neglecting some important things. My aparment is a currently a catastrophe. I spent a little time cleaning the main room today, but my room is a disaster. I am not being disciplined in this area. Also, I'm not staying on top of some phone calls, organizing, etc etc which I need to do.

Basically, I'm playing really hard right now (again, in a good way), and I work hard during the day, but I need more balance. I know too, that I've been neglecting my relationship with God---I just haven't been making that time a priority.

In short (or long, as it were) I often find myself confused and constantly pondering why why why am I doing this or not doing something else. And, instead of seeking answers or prayerfully submitting my questions to God, I just sit with them, or worse, force them out of my mind.

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More random thoughts, not related to the more serious ones above:
1. Jazz at Pearls is a kick-ass place. You must check it out!

2. I need a good (upright) bass player in the SF area. Anyone out there know anyone? I think I'm going to put together a recital for the all, with some spanish, portugese, and possibly French (read: cabaret) music, and some straight up jazz standards. I need some instrumentalists for all of this!!

3. I had a friend send me an email, asking if I would consider marrying him so he could get his green card. WHAT? ummm....no way, man. That would be too weird. He was dead serious, too! My first reaction to reading the email was hysterical laughter. Honestly, I couldn't believe what I just read.

4. I have had several good conversations with a coworker, A, this week. Praise God for that!!

My feet are killing me

...but it is worth every single aching step. Went salsa dancing tonight. It was so much fun. A random group of us went. A friend from church, a friend from Carnaval, a friend from salsa class, and even my salsa teacher came! I also ran into this guy I've met here on more than one occaision.

Lots of good dancing tonight.
M, from the metronome, is a solid leader, easy to follow, and we are in similar skill levels.

J, from MCLAA salsa on tuesday game (sadly, though, without Tio) and he is doing great! He just has to keep his confidence up, but is improving as a leader everytime I dance with him. We had a lot of fun, as he is always up for a laugh.

Jaime himself. Wow. What can I say. It is so fun - and a workout - to dance with him. Man KNOWS what to DO on the dance floor. Talk about pro, man. Gets a little crazy, but worth it!

Adam, Adam and Matt were supposed to come, but last minute had something come up. Adam, however, has expressed his sincere desire to go salsa dancing, as well as the other two guys. Oh well. Next time.

As for me, I cannot speak highly enough about going early for the class. Not only do you learn some moves, but you also meet people, whom you can dance with later.

Hasta la proxima.....

Late Night Fun

Long time, no post, I know.

Thursday night, on my way to my new favorite jazz place, I was talking with a friend about age. We decided that, as mid-twentysomethings, we were now acting more like 21 year olds than we did when we were actually 21. And by acting like we were 21, I mean partying (or, staying out late) on a Monday. Or Tuesday. Or any eve before working the next day.

I've decided to embrace this fact. Sleep be damned. Well, that is, until I am walking down the street and just keel over from sheer exhaustion. Caffeine only works so much, before it starts making me feel sick.

I know I need a lot of sleep. But, at the same time, I am having a lot of fun just doing random things, seeing people, hanging out. If not now, when?

So, as a public service, here are some of my favorite late night places in SF:
Bruno's
Yoshi's
Cafe Cocomo (duh).
Red Devil Lounge
Caffe Greco

Not to mention a few hidden gems from AZ. But if I told you about those, I'd have to kill you :)
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I have to post this conversation I had last night. It is too funny not to.

Setting: Italian pizzaria, straight out of my favorite movies. Each table has a little jukebox. I selected "O Sole Mio", and the following conversation ensued:

*Bopsy: "Hey, isn't this Beethoven?"
Me: "pffffsshshshhthtthth (trying not to spew my food) HAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA"
Bopsy: "Oh, no, wait. It was Elvis. He sang this." [true]

Hilarious. Simply HI-LAR-I-OUS. *some names have been changed*