Fight H8. And get some exercise.

San Francisco is a politically-minded city. We're aware, we're educated, and we're angry. We're also very lazy.

People from all over the Bay Area have come to city in droves to protest the passing of Proposition 8, the ban on gay marriage. Since the election two weeks ago, there have been three protests in San Francisco. Each one complete with signs both funny and sad. Protesters of every color, shape and age clad in T-shirts bearing messages of hope and anger.

There is no publicly circulated map for these events. No planned route. There is a starting point and a starting time. Then it's up to the masses to decide where the day takes them.

My friends and I attend these protests because we are angry that Prop 8 passed. We believe in equality for all and are ashamed of our state for passing such a discriminatory amendment. Also, they're surprisingly convenient.

My friend, Jeremy, wasn't sure if he could attend the protest last Friday night. He and his boyfriend got home from work late and they had a dinner reservation for 7:30. As they were getting ready to leave, they heard shouting outside their window. As it turns out, the protesters had left Dolores Park and were marching right down his street. Jeremy and his boyfriend left the house to march with the masses and joined in on the call and response.

"We had about 20 minutes until we had to be at the restaurant," Jeremy told me. "But we were going to a place in lower Nob Hill and the protest happened to be heading right to Union Square. So we just walked with them."

I did the same thing last Sunday. The protest started at 10:30 and I had a yoga class I wanted to attend at 11am. Civic Center is about five blocks from my house, so I walked over there to check out the signs and the T-shirts. I even suggested some ideas to some of the sign-makers on the side of the road. I wanted to see a neon sign in which the bottom rung of the E flashed on and off to read "FIGHT EIGHT FIGHT EIGHT." Unfortunately, no one had any neon.

The protest lasted for about 20 minutes in front of City Hall, and then headed West on Hayes, conveniently on the way to my yoga class. Perfect, I couldn't have planned it better.

Oaklanders come in to march. Berkeleyites show their unity and anger – south bayers, north bayers, east bayers, everyone is there to show solidarity and support. But us San Franciscans, we're there cause it's on our way.

This has prompted me and Molly to write new versions of chants and cheers:

"What do we want?"
"Equal rights for all!"
"When do we want it?"
"In about 20 minutes near Powel BART!"

"We're here! We're queer! It would be great if we could head toward downtown!"

"Hey hey, ho ho, can we stop by MacDonald's bathroom? I've got to go!"

"I don't know but I've been told... Stopping for a latte really keeps out the cold!"

"2, 4, 6, 8, those scones from Tartine are really great!"

"YES WE CAN... Finish by 2 cause I've got a mani/pedi appointment)"

"Fired up! (fired up!)"
"Ready to go! (to brunch.)"

Let's get quizzical

I've always wanted to be able to raise one eyebrow. I think it's sexy, that quizzical look. I've spent hours in the mirror attempting it to no avail. I've contorted my face into strange, inhuman shapes and yet, unless I tilt my head, my eyebrows remain at the same level.

That was, until last Saturday. That was the day I went to my neighborhood salon to get my eyebrows waxed. I guess that paying a woman to rip your eyebrow hairs out with hot wax is really putting a lot of trust into another person. But I'd been doing fairly regularly for years and I'd never had a bad experience.

It didn't last long – just a few brushes and a few rips. But when I got up to look in the mirror, my eyebrows hardly looked like they even belonged on the same face. One curved up into my forehead while the other shot off down toward my ear.

I pointed this out to her. She nodded and said in broken English, "Ya, this one straight, this one curve."

"Right. But they were even when I walked in here. I was kind of hoping to leave that way."

"Hmmm…" she peered at my eyebrows. "Okay, I have idea."

I lay back, not confident at all as she started plucking away again. I got up again to look in the mirror after a few minutes. They were still uneven, just thinner.

"This left one is higher," I pointed out.

"Yep, yep." She agreed. And motioned to do more plucking.

I stopped her, "This is fine. They'll grow back."

The woman at the front looked at me with pity in her eyes and told me that I don't have to pay this time. Or ever, I thought to myself, as I'm NEVER COMING BACK HERE.

The good news – I can now raise one eyebrow. Without even trying. All the time.

Puppy cam

If anyone of my readers is unfamiliar with the social phenomenon of the live streaming puppy cam, I suggest you check it out immediately.

I must warn you though, it’s extremely addictive. Not only will you spend hours watching the insanely adorable shiba inus, but it will infiltrate all of your conversations. Here are some recent gchats I had. And these are with guys. Tough guys. Turned soft by some cuddly puppies. I've changed their names for protection.

G: did you see the one sleeping upside down
Me: they're getting big
G: ya, that one is like, "hey brother come play with me"

Me: The one sleeping spread eagle is kind of weird; he keeps moving his paws
Me:If by "weird" you mean "incredibly adorable" then, yes
M: It's like he's dreaming he's swimming

S: they are so fucking cute and snuggly, look at them all sleeping on top of eachother
me: Something real dirty is going on with the puppies
S: there seems to be some groin licking
Me: totally
S: incest!

Proposition R

Though it occurred over a week ago, I have to add one more post about the election.

Even if you that don’t have the pleasure of voting in San Francisco, you should still get to enjoy the joke that is our ballot. We had 22 propositions for the city this year. TWENTY-TWO. All represented by letters of the alphabet, they went up to V. I’m not kidding.

Luckily, many of them did not pass, including this doozy of an idea:

Proposition R: Shall the City change the name of the Oceanside Water Pollution Control Plant to the George W Bush Sewage Plant?

How could I vote no on an issue where the “Rebuttal to Arguments Against” was a haiku:

Need Bush memor'l?
Sewage plant available
How appropriate

More info here. I love my city.

There's got to be a better way

Molly and I were quite taken by a recent Saturday Night Live commercial that has now found its way into our daily conversation.

To understand, you must first watch the video:



It’s a great way to reduce even the most important events and figures into an infomercial. Imagine these lines in the same exasperated and yet markety voice as in the sketch:

History of America:
“The discovering and colonizing”
“The declaring and the revolting.”
“The shipping and enslaving.”
“The fighting and the winning.”

Barack Obama:
"The speaking and inspiring."
"The voting and overcoming"
"The cheering and the history-making."

It works for everything. Try it. Just today I went to the dentist, or as I described it to Molly – “The cleaning and the scraping.”

Another dance with grandma

I got to share grandma's priceless moves with another group of friends yesterday. The experience wass beyond words; you'll have to watch the video.

Election night remembered

I didn't take this video, but this is exactly where I was on Tuesday night. Pretty amazing experience.

Yes we did.

Last night was truly amazing. I got to witness history as thousands of people danced in the streets, waving American flags and chanting “U.S.A.” I have no idea when the last time was, if ever, that happened in San Francisco.

I experienced the same joy and relief as all of my fellow rejoicers. The feeling of pride to be part of a country that chose honor over negativity, hope over violence, and intelligence over narrowmindedness.

But it’s a bittersweet victory. At the same time I am finally proud to be an American, I am now ashamed to be a Californian. I am in utter shock that I live in a state that would vote to strip certain people of their rights to equal treatment under the law. Aren’t we passed that yet?

At the same time we’ve taken huge steps forward in this election, Proposition 8 proves that we still have a long way to go.

As PRESIDENT OBAMA says, let’s get to work.

Vote Vote Votey McVoterton

Don't let down this hopeful little bee!

zomBEE

For Halloween this year, I decided to be something environmental. Something that would raise awareness about a growing problem.

Not too many people have heard of the troubling disappearance of bees, so I decided to portray this environmental phenomenon by going as Colony Collapse Disorder.

But, like, sexy Colony Collapse Disorder (so as not to repeat last year's mistake).

One could also say I was a zom-BEE:

Halloween Critical Mass

This year, I participated in my first Halloween Critical Mass. And a mass it was. A mob almost a mile long of crazy people in costumes on bikes. Blocks and blocks of cars stuck at lights while they changed from red to green to red again. What can I say, it’s the one day a month when the bikers take back the streets. Drivers should know better than to drive on the last Friday of the month in San Francisco.

I broke from the crowd early to head back and put the finishing touches on my costume. I circled back all the way down Polk, rode about 20 blocks and was shocked to see that the mass of bikers was still coming through. As I crossed in front of city hall, a guy in a van that had been probably trapped at that intersection for at least 15 minutes stuck his head out the window.

“You’re making the world a better place!” He shouted at me, a big grin on his face.

It made my night. Yes, I thought, we bikers are totally making the world a better place – saving the city from even more parking problems, traffic and pollution. But how funny that he recognised that on this particular night. The night that, for anyone trying to get anywhere in San Francisco, we were making the city a living hell. But that’s what Halloween is all about, right?