Baby bird

Yesterday morning we woke up to find a bird in our living room. It came from the chimney – must’ve fallen down somehow. My theory is that we must have an eagle nest on the top of our chimney, and somehow a baby eagle slipped out. That was until I did a google image search for baby eagles, and it looked nothing like this:


It was just your average, feathery brown bird sitting there on our living room rug looking completely confused. I opened the back door and he hopped out (for simplicity’s sake, we’ll assume it’s a he). Then he sat there in the middle of our patio and continued to look completely confused.

He crooked his little head side to side, and I felt like I could read the thoughts running through it… “I was in a warm, sooty place. Then I was standing under a giant flatscreen TV and now I’m outside. How did this happen? Where do I go from here? Why am I here? Who am I? Why are we all here? Now what?”

Oh little bird, I know how you feel.

Girltalk

At a party on Sunday, I found myself chatting with a circle of eight women. The party was being thrown by three cute guys, so I guess I should not have been surprised that 90% of the guests were attractive ladies. It turns out that these eight were two groups of female roommates, and I found myself privy to the following conversation…

“So you gals all live together?”
“Yep, four female roommates. We call our apartment ‘The Womb.’”
“That is so funny, we also have four girls. We call our place ‘Vulva-net.’”
Pause.
“So are you guys all single as well?”
“Yep, yep.”
“Us too.”

Even though Brian and his drunken friends woke me up Saturday night at 3am by wrestling in the living room, I'm glad that I live with a dude.

Wuss

Disappointing news: I am not, nor ever will I be hardcore.

I’ll never be a kick-ass snowboarder, surfer or rock-climber; I’m simply too much of a scaredy-cat.

I’m adventurous enough to get into the sport – buy the surf lessons, the lift tickets, and, most recently, the $100-worth of climbing gear. But I’m too wimpy to actually get good at it.

Or like on Saturday, while bouldering at Stinson beach, I'm strong enough to climb up the rock, but I’m too scared to get down. At one point I was ready to just stay on the rock forever. Yes, this is a nice place to live, I thought... beach-front views, I can just move here. And we’re talking like a 10-foot rock here, btw, not even anything worth being scared over. Ultimately, though, I did get down. I just have no interest in ever getting back up.

Signing up for the office potluck

Let’s see, lentil loaf is already taken.

Quinoa and veggies? Damn, gone too.

Guess I’ll just have to bring the bacon-wrapped meatloaf.

One day late

What does Earth Day mean to you?
A shade of green? The color blue?
Does it mean seals and redwoods? Gorillas and bugs?
Walking up to trees and giving them hugs?

I’ll tell you what Earth Day means to me
It’s a combo of land and sky and sea
It means every person in every city
Every part of the planet – whether ugly or pretty

It doesn’t distinguish between society and nature
It includes every species of each nomenclature
It means businesses in China, American car sales
Villagers in Africa and humpback whales

It means thinking about how it’s all is connected
And to recognize with each action, that something else is affected
The future’s part of today, death is part of birth
And it’s all part of this sphere we call Earth

So what should we do to recognize Earth Day?
Celebrate Mothers Day, Thanksgiving, your birthday
It’s a time to appreciate all we’ve been given
And to make sure this Earth is a place we can live in

Today and tomorrow, and the day after
A place that provides us with food, water and laughter
A place we can love and a place we can share
Earth Day is a day to simply be aware

Happy Earth Day!

Refer to me as...

I just discovered an awesome feature on my online bank account. There’s a link called “Refer to me as” in which you can change how the site greets you. This feature has proved to provide hours of fun.

First I started out tame:


Then decided to see how dirty they'd let me go (pretty far):


And then I left it with something sweet and simple. So now every time I log into my Vanguard account, it greets me with:

Diary Thursday: Trip to Israel

For this Diary Thursday, I decided to branch out and pick up one of my Travel Diaries. I grabbed "Summer of 1994," which covers my month-long trip to Israel the summer before senior year of high school. This was a vacation taken by me and my best friend, Carolyn, who was 16 at the time. The pretense was to learn more about our Jewish heritage, though it actually turned into a month-long competition to see who could make out with more Israeli boys.

Most of my posts read something like this: "Bethlehem sucked because Carolyn made out with three boys and I only made out with two. Also we saw a church, I think Jesus was born there or something."

That was me paraphrasing. This is an actual entry:

Friday, July 22nd, 1994, 17-years-old, 10:40 pm

Tonight we walked around Eilat, but there wasn't much to do, so we got some pizza and then waited for guys to pick up on us. I was depressed because all day guys had picked Carolyn and not me. Even the kitten in the hostel preferred her lap. Anyway, this one group of guys finally talked to us. Five of them were ugly but one of them was gorgeous, but Carolyn thought they were gross. They took us to the beach, but they didn't speak much English, so conversation between them and us was pretty scarce. Okay, it was pretty much nonexistent. But here's the good thing – the one gorgeous guy liked ME. Carolyn was bitter and decided then to be a bitch for the rest of the night. She kept complaining about how bored she was. And it actually was really dull, but I wasn't about to let my beautiful, silent man get away. Finally, the gorgeous guy asked, "Can I kiss you?" I said "Sure," and he did. Right there at the table in front of all his friends and Carolyn. I would've stopped him, only he was the best kisser ever. We kissed for like 7 minutes. After that, we didn't really talk, so Carolyn and I went home. Now Carolyn's being a petty bitch. She's doing things like locking me out of the bathroom and hiding my brush. I can't stand it! And I'm sad because I'll never kiss that guy again.

At least I'm wearing pants

Azalea recently told me about some girls she overheard on the street. One girl in her early 20’s was talking to her similarly-aged friend, and Azalea just caught the following phrase: “I mean, I don’t want to be some 30-year-old in her yoga clothes.”

She told me this story as the two of us waited at an underground Muni station to do some shopping downtown. We had just come from yoga and neither of us had bothered to change. So there we were, standing there in public in our stretch pants and tank tops, hair in pony tails – two 31-year-olds in our yoga clothes.

Nature scares me

The crazy wind yesterday made the eucalyptus trees creak and moan. I was convinced one would fall over on my head as I jogged through the woods in the Presidio last night (in a large group, mom). I was also afraid of getting poison oak. I’m not always sure how to identify this ferocious plant, so I made an effort to avoid everything leafy as I scurried up and down the overgrown pathways.

Yes, I decided last night, much safer to stick to the car-covered, crackhead-ridden concrete streets of the inner city. Also, it’s much easier to get a latte there.

Baker Beach

This weekend proved two things to me that I already suspected.

1) I need a dog.
2) I love the beach.

I played "cool aunt" to my friends' dog all weekend. Maggie's never seen such a good time.


I could be happy being on the beach every day of my life – the sun, the sand, the ocean… Frisbee, friends and beer. Color me happy. And a little bit burnt.

Next I'll tackle the pole

Yesterday I attended my first “Cardio Tease” dance class at my sucky gym: 24-hour Lameness. I was pleasantly surprised at what a good time it was, with the teacher yelling commands amidst the thrusting and grinding like: “Pretend you’re wearing a hat, now pretend you’re taking it off. Swing your imaginary hat over your head and throw it to the side. Now undo your imaginary belt and pretend you’re taking off your pants.

I learned some sultry moves to go home and pretend to perform for my imaginary boyfriend.

Dressed to distress

A coworker of mine turned to me at a wine-tasting event in Berkeley over the weekend. She explained that she’s frustrated with Berkeley’s lack of fashion. “Honey, you’re in BERKELEY,” I responded. People don’t live in Berkeley to show off their fashion sense. Even though she lives in the Elmwood area, which is a fairly nice part of Berkeley – big houses and chic shops, people still feel confident going to nice restaurants in sweatpants because hey, it’s Berkeley.

Growing up there, there was definitely a style. But the highschool fashion was perhaps not on par with other parts of the country – china flats, overalls, flowing floral skirts… were other high school students wearing these too?

It was not until I moved to New York, in fact, that I began to show any interest in fashion. People there are enamored with it and each new season bred a colorful array of the latest trend – fall jackets, winter boots, spring dresses… it was fun to show off the seasonal wardrobe. In addition, it wasn’t quite acceptable to a tank and flipflops to the office in Manhattan. I actually started shopping. I even wrote about it here and here. I made a humble attempt to keep up at least slightly with the fashionistas of Manhattan. I started dressing a little more my age, one could say.

That has changed since I moved back to San Francisco. Though many of my coworkers are fairly fashionable, no one really cares what I wear to work. And I’ve found myself arriving at the office in much the same outfits I wore to Berkeley High. In fact, sometime I think I’m literally wearing a T-shirt I bought in high school. Perhaps the winetasting coworker is offended by my jeans and sneakers. But, I’m pleased to say that I don’t really care. I’m comfy.

Diary Thursday: Good thing #1

Friday, September 6th, 1991, 3:54pm, 14-years-old

Today at school, two good things happened and one bad thing happened. I'll tell you the good things first. Good thing #1: Ted, the handsome hunk that lives across the street, saw me in the hall of the C building, recognized me, and said "hi." Do you believe it? Good thing #2: Dance class was fun. I got to stand right behind Ian and we said a few words to each other. I hope he realized when I was laughing as he danced across the floor, that I was laughing with him, not at him (though he looked hilarious because he's an awful dancer).

So now here's the bad thing. Bad thing #1: In dance I was desperate to go over and talk to my beloved Tasho, so I kept wandering closer and closer to him. Then I'd chicken out at the last moment and do something really stupid like pretend to get involved in reading the graffiti on the wall, so that he wouldn't suspect anything. Then I'd feel so dumb I'd just walk away. He probably thinks I'm a total idiot. He probably doesn’t want to talk to some puny freshman anyhow. Though I know that he secretly lusts after me.

I'll call Alvin Ailey

“Are we going to get a TV for the front room?”

“Do we need two TVs?”

“No, but we need something to inspire us to hang out in that room more often. We're always in the less nice room because it has a TV.”

“How about a bookcase full of books?”

“We have that already. It doesn’t work. We need to get something more entertaining, besides a TV. Like… a juke box.”

"Or a video game system."

“Or a modern dance troop.”

Yo yo yo, save the planet

This is not usually a forum I use for personal announcements, but since many of my friends and family read this blog, perhaps it’s a good place to let everyone know at once.

As you know, I started this job a couple months ago and have been very involved with the new sustainability movement. However, though I write all day long about saving the planet, I still feel like I’m not actively doing anything. I’ve decided that I could be much more effective, not as a copywriter, but as an Activist Rapper.

Which leads me to my big announcement: I’ve decided to quit my job, move out of my house and take my rapping career on the road. My first concert will be in Portland next month. It will feature a series of raps I've been working on about a seal pup named April Fools.