Sunday, March 23, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Think again...
Lately I've been trying to second guess myself whenever possible. I'm not going to try to deny that I have it pretty darn good in life, and yet I am totally lacking in ambition and drive. I have to be doing something wrong! I sort of think starting to run was my first bit of an affair with second guessing myself. I didn't think I should do it, but I did it anyway and it's paying off very nicely.
I had a friend ask me over GoogleTalk what was keeping me from getting a job that I am passionate about. She meant what was standing between me and these jobs. But my answer was a very honest: "Lack of passion!" She asked if I had ever talked to a life/career coach, and I did sort of once. They told me a lot of things I already know about the kind of job I should probably end up with. She did nothing to get me excited about getting of these jobs, and I didn't really know which one I wanted to do, because without passion I didn't really want to do any of them. Anyway, so the recent conversation leads to a new coach recommendation. This friend is well connected and very smart, so I take her recommendation seriously. But the coaches website looks a little cheesy so I hold off. However I just asked myself, "what's something you can do about the situation NOW?" And well, "find a coach," was the first thing that came to mind so I decided to second guess myself and set up an appointment to speak to this coach over the phone on Monday. Stay tuned.
When a new restocking form at work made my brain melt and made me want to cry I tried to suck it up and not complain, just tried to get through it. But guess what? I decided to talk to my manager after all, she asked on the big conference call how other people were handling this form, other stores were doing it the same way, but then the people at the home office who made the form chime in and inform everyone that basically everyone has been doing it wrong! Oh my goodness, I just saved myself a lot of heartache!
I had some wacky ideas for what to do with my Thursday. I had half a mind to drive to Berkeley because I'd been dying to check out Herringbone, which carried CB I Hate Perfume, it's the only place around these parts to get it actually. CF was considering working in the city even though he also went last Thursday and usually goes every other week. If he was working in the city I sort of wanted to go have dinner somewhere great with him. I had wanted to spend some time with Ms. shoppingsmycardio but the silly girl has gone back to work and was busy. Boo! Also on my list of people to connect with was AV, an old, old, friend of mine who Facebook had sort of put me back in contact with. I went to elementary school with him and hadn't seen him since high school grad night. For some reason he was one of the people from my past that I sometimes wondered about. It's always amazing when you finally catch up with someone like this. When I wrote on his Facebook wall last summer, "How the hell are you?" we exchanged messages for a bit and then promised to call each other if we were ever in each other's neighborhoods. Calling him wasn't exactly second guessing myself, but driving all the way to Berkeley just to put together this collection of half-baked ideas was a little crazy, normally I'd end up finding an excuse to back out. But oh no, I went.
AV and I sat in the back corner of our senior year American Government class. We were just about the only two people not from the largely yuppie, trendy, annoying clique that seemed to mostly come out of El Macero or West Davis. Two East Davis kids found themselves in need of some sane company. The teacher knew how it was for us too, he had AV do the roll, I answered every question he asked the class. If we were late, or if AV wasn't there at all, it was all OK with him, we understood each other. AV was the bad boy, drugs were involved (which happily aren't part of his life anymore), and he ditched more classes in a day than I did, ever. Still, he seemed to always come to this class and we had a good time. He wrote in my yearbook how we had known each other so long and how I hadn't changed at all while he... well, he had. So it was crazy to be meeting back up again at age 30 in Berkeley. I really didn't know what to expect.
Turns out he's an undergrad, over the age where they can take parent income in to account when offering financial aid so he's barely paying anything, and he's lived enough of life already to know what he's totally and absolutely thrilled to be studying. He was so excited as he tried to explain the bacteria and cultures he studies in the lab he works in, it blew my mind! I heard more science than I had since high school. I'm so happy for him, and envious beyond words. He was so sure of what he was doing, even if he had just come from a German class where they thought he was translating incorrectly when he said "I am 30 years old."
We compared out situations. The good girl and the bad boy at age 30 working in retail and finally getting a bachelors... but which one of us is happiest? Hard to say for sure. But the circumstances we find ourselves in are incredible to compare. There were funny moments of silence. The situation of sitting there together just boggling our minds.
He had to get back to work and I had to run up the street to the store with the perfume (though I was too proud to admit this). I made it in the door of Herringbone with less than 10 minutes to shop. But I found exactly what I was looking for, sniffed a few scents, tried a few on and started chatting with the very cool girl working there. Now, when I'm working I despise people who come in the door right before I close. I know they won't leave on time, and more than half of them aren't going to buy anything anyway. This girl was so nice to me even though I was disgusting myself with my late arrival. She listened as I said I had read up on the brands and how perfume gives me headaches so I was really curious about Christopher Brosius. Usually when considering a perfume purchase I have to try it on and see how it "wears" on me and if it's going to give me a headache. I trusted that this one wasn't. Still, I couldn't imagine making such a large purchase in such a hurry. I started to excuse myself saying I hoped I'd be back in the neighborhood soon. I don't know if it came from being wound up by the mini-high school reunion I had just had or what, but I suddenly thought about it again and decided to just do it. I know you think I love to shop, but the truth is, I am embarrassingly cheap. So this was a huge accomplishment for me... being so frivolous. I purchased a bottle of Russian Caravan Tea, and I have to say, I smell delicious! I hope they get Mrs. Peel when that scent is released, but I'd really love to go see CB's studio/shop in Brooklyn someday.
I took my new little treasure back to the car (I'd parked across the street from the Berkeley Rep, not surprisingly one of the only places I could remember had a parking garage with reasonable enough rates) and eventually met up with CF who took BART over from the city. We walked back up the street to where I had just been shopping, I sure got my walking in for the day. We decided we were too hungry to wait in line for Cheeseboard Collective pizza slices so we settled on a charming little place called Gregoire. It's a tiny little building just off Shattuck, with an open kitchen, 3 or 4 bar type seats watching the action, and a u-shaped picnic table outside. We ordered a salad, an order of highly recommend potato puffs, and one order of lamp chops. As we sat outside the Berkeley residents walked past us in every direction. Many of them were stopping by for takeout. CF was enthralled with watching the food prep going on in the kitchen. I knew that was what he was going to love about this place! They does most of their business in takeout. So much so that they don't even have serving trays or baskets, our food was just handed to us in cardboard containers that weren't closed and bagged up. The salad was great, the potato puffs were these fried little scoops of buttery mashed potatoes rolled in salty bread crumbs (our lips dried out after eating these), and the lamb chops were wonderful. As I ate I saw the huge moon start to rise over the hill behind CF's shoulder. What a great dinner experience!
Even though we were already a bit cold we took the opportunity to try one of the several gelaterias I'd been hoping to get to in Berkeley. Gelateria Naia was close to where I had parked the car. I had a small cone of Cioccolat Mortale and Guiness flavors, so scrumptious together! CF sampled several others and had a nice little espresso to go with his dessert. We drove home very happy and content. We live in a wonderful place, we're very lucky.
We had a lot to do when we got home to get ready to go out of town for the weekend. We were up late and I worried about how little sleep I was going to get. I knew I wouldn't really exercise all weekend so I thought I should get one last spin class in or something. But I thought about how tired I felt already as I went to set my alarm clock, and I second guessed myself yet again, and gave myself permission to just get up in time to carpool to work and not go to 5:45am spin.
I had a friend ask me over GoogleTalk what was keeping me from getting a job that I am passionate about. She meant what was standing between me and these jobs. But my answer was a very honest: "Lack of passion!" She asked if I had ever talked to a life/career coach, and I did sort of once. They told me a lot of things I already know about the kind of job I should probably end up with. She did nothing to get me excited about getting of these jobs, and I didn't really know which one I wanted to do, because without passion I didn't really want to do any of them. Anyway, so the recent conversation leads to a new coach recommendation. This friend is well connected and very smart, so I take her recommendation seriously. But the coaches website looks a little cheesy so I hold off. However I just asked myself, "what's something you can do about the situation NOW?" And well, "find a coach," was the first thing that came to mind so I decided to second guess myself and set up an appointment to speak to this coach over the phone on Monday. Stay tuned.
When a new restocking form at work made my brain melt and made me want to cry I tried to suck it up and not complain, just tried to get through it. But guess what? I decided to talk to my manager after all, she asked on the big conference call how other people were handling this form, other stores were doing it the same way, but then the people at the home office who made the form chime in and inform everyone that basically everyone has been doing it wrong! Oh my goodness, I just saved myself a lot of heartache!
I had some wacky ideas for what to do with my Thursday. I had half a mind to drive to Berkeley because I'd been dying to check out Herringbone, which carried CB I Hate Perfume, it's the only place around these parts to get it actually. CF was considering working in the city even though he also went last Thursday and usually goes every other week. If he was working in the city I sort of wanted to go have dinner somewhere great with him. I had wanted to spend some time with Ms. shoppingsmycardio but the silly girl has gone back to work and was busy. Boo! Also on my list of people to connect with was AV, an old, old, friend of mine who Facebook had sort of put me back in contact with. I went to elementary school with him and hadn't seen him since high school grad night. For some reason he was one of the people from my past that I sometimes wondered about. It's always amazing when you finally catch up with someone like this. When I wrote on his Facebook wall last summer, "How the hell are you?" we exchanged messages for a bit and then promised to call each other if we were ever in each other's neighborhoods. Calling him wasn't exactly second guessing myself, but driving all the way to Berkeley just to put together this collection of half-baked ideas was a little crazy, normally I'd end up finding an excuse to back out. But oh no, I went.
AV and I sat in the back corner of our senior year American Government class. We were just about the only two people not from the largely yuppie, trendy, annoying clique that seemed to mostly come out of El Macero or West Davis. Two East Davis kids found themselves in need of some sane company. The teacher knew how it was for us too, he had AV do the roll, I answered every question he asked the class. If we were late, or if AV wasn't there at all, it was all OK with him, we understood each other. AV was the bad boy, drugs were involved (which happily aren't part of his life anymore), and he ditched more classes in a day than I did, ever. Still, he seemed to always come to this class and we had a good time. He wrote in my yearbook how we had known each other so long and how I hadn't changed at all while he... well, he had. So it was crazy to be meeting back up again at age 30 in Berkeley. I really didn't know what to expect.
Turns out he's an undergrad, over the age where they can take parent income in to account when offering financial aid so he's barely paying anything, and he's lived enough of life already to know what he's totally and absolutely thrilled to be studying. He was so excited as he tried to explain the bacteria and cultures he studies in the lab he works in, it blew my mind! I heard more science than I had since high school. I'm so happy for him, and envious beyond words. He was so sure of what he was doing, even if he had just come from a German class where they thought he was translating incorrectly when he said "I am 30 years old."
We compared out situations. The good girl and the bad boy at age 30 working in retail and finally getting a bachelors... but which one of us is happiest? Hard to say for sure. But the circumstances we find ourselves in are incredible to compare. There were funny moments of silence. The situation of sitting there together just boggling our minds.
He had to get back to work and I had to run up the street to the store with the perfume (though I was too proud to admit this). I made it in the door of Herringbone with less than 10 minutes to shop. But I found exactly what I was looking for, sniffed a few scents, tried a few on and started chatting with the very cool girl working there. Now, when I'm working I despise people who come in the door right before I close. I know they won't leave on time, and more than half of them aren't going to buy anything anyway. This girl was so nice to me even though I was disgusting myself with my late arrival. She listened as I said I had read up on the brands and how perfume gives me headaches so I was really curious about Christopher Brosius. Usually when considering a perfume purchase I have to try it on and see how it "wears" on me and if it's going to give me a headache. I trusted that this one wasn't. Still, I couldn't imagine making such a large purchase in such a hurry. I started to excuse myself saying I hoped I'd be back in the neighborhood soon. I don't know if it came from being wound up by the mini-high school reunion I had just had or what, but I suddenly thought about it again and decided to just do it. I know you think I love to shop, but the truth is, I am embarrassingly cheap. So this was a huge accomplishment for me... being so frivolous. I purchased a bottle of Russian Caravan Tea, and I have to say, I smell delicious! I hope they get Mrs. Peel when that scent is released, but I'd really love to go see CB's studio/shop in Brooklyn someday.
I took my new little treasure back to the car (I'd parked across the street from the Berkeley Rep, not surprisingly one of the only places I could remember had a parking garage with reasonable enough rates) and eventually met up with CF who took BART over from the city. We walked back up the street to where I had just been shopping, I sure got my walking in for the day. We decided we were too hungry to wait in line for Cheeseboard Collective pizza slices so we settled on a charming little place called Gregoire. It's a tiny little building just off Shattuck, with an open kitchen, 3 or 4 bar type seats watching the action, and a u-shaped picnic table outside. We ordered a salad, an order of highly recommend potato puffs, and one order of lamp chops. As we sat outside the Berkeley residents walked past us in every direction. Many of them were stopping by for takeout. CF was enthralled with watching the food prep going on in the kitchen. I knew that was what he was going to love about this place! They does most of their business in takeout. So much so that they don't even have serving trays or baskets, our food was just handed to us in cardboard containers that weren't closed and bagged up. The salad was great, the potato puffs were these fried little scoops of buttery mashed potatoes rolled in salty bread crumbs (our lips dried out after eating these), and the lamb chops were wonderful. As I ate I saw the huge moon start to rise over the hill behind CF's shoulder. What a great dinner experience!
Even though we were already a bit cold we took the opportunity to try one of the several gelaterias I'd been hoping to get to in Berkeley. Gelateria Naia was close to where I had parked the car. I had a small cone of Cioccolat Mortale and Guiness flavors, so scrumptious together! CF sampled several others and had a nice little espresso to go with his dessert. We drove home very happy and content. We live in a wonderful place, we're very lucky.
We had a lot to do when we got home to get ready to go out of town for the weekend. We were up late and I worried about how little sleep I was going to get. I knew I wouldn't really exercise all weekend so I thought I should get one last spin class in or something. But I thought about how tired I felt already as I went to set my alarm clock, and I second guessed myself yet again, and gave myself permission to just get up in time to carpool to work and not go to 5:45am spin.
Smug continued...
Last Saturday was brilliant. I found myself without cash in hand or in my checking account so I thought the farmer's market wasn't going to happen for me. But I remembered these American Express gift cheques CF had been given at work and he had handed off to me for some reason that had been floating around in my bag ever since. A friendly banker inside the credit union helped me out and cashed them for me, $75 and a big day planned!
I hit the farmers' market a bit later than I meant to, decided to go straight to the gym, figuring the produce could take a little extra time in the car. While on the treadmill I realized I was really cutting in close with my plans to meet up with Mr. MP before my haircut. So I rushed home, had a quick shower and jump back in the car heading for the Millbrae BART station. It was only then that I remembered the precious goods in the trunk of my car! Drat! I decided to chance it and parked in the shady, somewhat refrigerated garage and if I had to toss a few things it would be OK (in the end everything survived!). I had to run a bit, my heavy Danskos making me regret my choice of footwear, especially after running, but I made one train earlier than I had hoped for! Score!
MP picked me up near the Embarcadero station and we headed over to brunch at Canteen, one of our favorites. Delicious! We thought we had an hour before my appointment so we decided to drive over to his favorite coffee place to buy beans for each of us to take home. The post-parade (St. Patrick's Day) traffic got the better of us though, I was going to be late. The salon understood and Thomas assured me everything was fine when I finally rushed in. I got a great haircut and left feeling like a million bucks. I needed a little afternoon pick-me-up and grabbed two fleur de sel caramel chocolates before heading back down to BART. When I went to pay the $3 for them I realized I was handing over the last of my cash (FM shopping, brunch, coffee beans, tip for Thomas, it all adds up), but I just loved that it was like surprise bonus money, the whole day was a gift! I got back to my car in Millbrae and all the food looked fine, I swung past Whole Foods for the very few other things I needed for the week. Whew! What a day! I must say, I've gotten very good at Saturdays lately.
I hit the farmers' market a bit later than I meant to, decided to go straight to the gym, figuring the produce could take a little extra time in the car. While on the treadmill I realized I was really cutting in close with my plans to meet up with Mr. MP before my haircut. So I rushed home, had a quick shower and jump back in the car heading for the Millbrae BART station. It was only then that I remembered the precious goods in the trunk of my car! Drat! I decided to chance it and parked in the shady, somewhat refrigerated garage and if I had to toss a few things it would be OK (in the end everything survived!). I had to run a bit, my heavy Danskos making me regret my choice of footwear, especially after running, but I made one train earlier than I had hoped for! Score!
MP picked me up near the Embarcadero station and we headed over to brunch at Canteen, one of our favorites. Delicious! We thought we had an hour before my appointment so we decided to drive over to his favorite coffee place to buy beans for each of us to take home. The post-parade (St. Patrick's Day) traffic got the better of us though, I was going to be late. The salon understood and Thomas assured me everything was fine when I finally rushed in. I got a great haircut and left feeling like a million bucks. I needed a little afternoon pick-me-up and grabbed two fleur de sel caramel chocolates before heading back down to BART. When I went to pay the $3 for them I realized I was handing over the last of my cash (FM shopping, brunch, coffee beans, tip for Thomas, it all adds up), but I just loved that it was like surprise bonus money, the whole day was a gift! I got back to my car in Millbrae and all the food looked fine, I swung past Whole Foods for the very few other things I needed for the week. Whew! What a day! I must say, I've gotten very good at Saturdays lately.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
European Adventures Redux
I'm coming at you from the the end of one of the weirdest nights of sleep I've had in a while. I got home around 5:30 yesterday, watched some TV and started to feel awfully sleepy. The last couple days were all long days, I decided to lay down for a while before I started in on the little to-do list I had written myself. And well, next thing I know it's 6am on Saturday and I've slept all night curled up on CF's side of the bed (he's gone to Texas, that's a whole other story) with the light on. So much for cooking myself a good veggie dinner and watching Netflix! Maybe tonight.
So Tuesday night I closed the store, and was there a bit late due a little error made the night before by someone else that I had to straighten out. Wednesday morning I opened, so I was gone less than 12 hours. Actually much less because I needed CF to drop me off and he had a 9am meeting. I was an hour early for work. Yuck. But it was a short day, in a way, at 4pm a coworker and I carpooled up to one of the store in the city for a bookbinding workshop. That was fun! I have been hesitant to answer many questions about bookbinding in the store because I hadn't ever done it myself. So I am now fully trained, finally, a year later! And my wonderful coworker even dropped me off at home, still it was a long day. Thursday started a bit early as well, CF woke up early to go get a train into San Francisco, he was going to the office there for the day. I tried to sleep in a bit but it didn't happen. Eventually I headed out for some errands and the gym (the running is going well, thanks SW!). That afternoon I visited Bombshell in San Mateo for an eyebrow shaping. This shop is too cool, I had to stick with them. I wish I was one of their sisters so I could work there too! I'm so happy for them. After one last trip home I then set out for the Millbrae BART station to ride into the city for a great night out.
CF met me at the 16th and Mission station. I have to say, it's much easier to find someone at a BART station than a NYC subway station! I just came up the stairs and as I got out my phone I saw him leaning on a wall near the exit waiting for me. We walked over to Little Star Pizza, I had been to their other location a couple year ago and was thrilled to finally be back for more! The champagne cocktails are on the menu at this location too, even if they might have been able to get a full bar license. They decided to stick with what they do best. I ordered the Movie Star, which includes ginger ale and ginger beer and a fizzing pieces of candied ginger at the bottom of the glass. Yum! We split a salad and a small flat crust pizza (even if they are know for their deep dish, we're just stubborn like that). There were only a few people there when we got in, but by the time we left it was clear that this location is doing just as well as the on on Divisadero.
We now dive into the European part of the night. A visit to the Monk's Kettle, part of the up and coming Belgian beer trend in San Francisco, which unfortunately probably means it is also soon be overly crowded and annoying. So I'm glad we went now, and we got there just in time, we snagged the last two seats at the bar and just minutes later people were filling in, standing behind us. The beer menu was incredible, we saw many "old friends." I decided if I was going to indulge it had better be something I knew I'd love so I ordered my favorite, the Rochefort 8. CF ordered a beer he had never had and was excited to try. The bartender looked at least slightly impressed with our selections but came back a minute later, they were out of CF's order. He suggested a replacement, something he was very excited about and they had just got in. The bartender said he'd have to join CF in drinking it, and they'd be the first two people to get to enjoy it. So CF got a glass of Monk's Cask and so did the bartender. We all clinked glasses and the noise level in the bar started to pick up. As I sipped the dark ale I felt like I was back in Belgium. CF was pleased with the beverage he ended up with. It was slightly fruity, but tart, much like Ms. D's favorite, the Saison DuPont, but even a little less sweet. We squeezed in another round and wobbled our way back to the BART station for the evening's main event.
The Z's were waiting out front of the Warfield with our tickets. Gogol Bordello, our gypsy punk band we saw in Paris, was back in town! The place was packed, noisy, and smoky. We could hear the opening band from the lobby as we indulged in yet another round of drinks (oh my, how it all adds up, I'd better finish up this post and get to the gym!). People started pouring out of the auditorium and we knew the opening band was done. We were ready to find our seats so we took the chance to get inside. There was a DJ on stage spinning some extremely loud Bhangra. KZ and I did a tiny bit of shoulder dancing and laughed. I was suddenly very sorry I hadn't brought earplugs, but right then PZ handed me the earplugs he had lent me in Paris. Awesome! We shuffled up to our seats and took in the crazy atmosphere around us. I don't know if I had ever seen such a wild vibe in the Warfield! And it only picked up from there when Gogol Bordello hit the stage. Although I was thankful for my seat, my own little reserved space, I was wondering what it was going to be like to sit down for the group I couldn't stop moving during before. But two songs in everyone was on their feet so that didn't matter anyway. It wasn't quite like seeing them in the smaller venue in Paris, but I'm so happy we went again.
After the concert we grabbed a bottle of water, said goodbye to the Z's as they headed back to Davis, and descended into a BART station full of concert attendees. Everyone was still pumped up, newly purchased t-shirts were pulled over various outfits right and left... my ears were ringing like crazy. Ouch. Before not too long our train arrived and we were on our way home. We mellowed out and the late hour finally sank in. CF graciously shared an earbud with me and we listened to his iPod until we got back to Millbrae and drove the rest of the way home. The night wasn't over yet though. He had to do laundry so he could pack for his trip! We meant to get it through the wash and into the dryer, but not surprisingly we didn't last that long.
So the next morning we got the clothes in the dryer and had breakfast home so he could pack afterwards. I dropped him off at work and said goodbye until Sunday. I was a bit of a zombie during my fortunately short day at work. Left around 4:30, had to fight my way home without use of the carpool lane, and well, you know the rest of the story (this is where this post began). What a week!!!
I've got a haircut scheduled in San Francisco (that's right, back for a third time in four days) this afternoon and also plan on hitting the gym, the farmer's market and brunch with Mr. MP along the way. At least I've rested up!
So Tuesday night I closed the store, and was there a bit late due a little error made the night before by someone else that I had to straighten out. Wednesday morning I opened, so I was gone less than 12 hours. Actually much less because I needed CF to drop me off and he had a 9am meeting. I was an hour early for work. Yuck. But it was a short day, in a way, at 4pm a coworker and I carpooled up to one of the store in the city for a bookbinding workshop. That was fun! I have been hesitant to answer many questions about bookbinding in the store because I hadn't ever done it myself. So I am now fully trained, finally, a year later! And my wonderful coworker even dropped me off at home, still it was a long day. Thursday started a bit early as well, CF woke up early to go get a train into San Francisco, he was going to the office there for the day. I tried to sleep in a bit but it didn't happen. Eventually I headed out for some errands and the gym (the running is going well, thanks SW!). That afternoon I visited Bombshell in San Mateo for an eyebrow shaping. This shop is too cool, I had to stick with them. I wish I was one of their sisters so I could work there too! I'm so happy for them. After one last trip home I then set out for the Millbrae BART station to ride into the city for a great night out.
CF met me at the 16th and Mission station. I have to say, it's much easier to find someone at a BART station than a NYC subway station! I just came up the stairs and as I got out my phone I saw him leaning on a wall near the exit waiting for me. We walked over to Little Star Pizza, I had been to their other location a couple year ago and was thrilled to finally be back for more! The champagne cocktails are on the menu at this location too, even if they might have been able to get a full bar license. They decided to stick with what they do best. I ordered the Movie Star, which includes ginger ale and ginger beer and a fizzing pieces of candied ginger at the bottom of the glass. Yum! We split a salad and a small flat crust pizza (even if they are know for their deep dish, we're just stubborn like that). There were only a few people there when we got in, but by the time we left it was clear that this location is doing just as well as the on on Divisadero.
We now dive into the European part of the night. A visit to the Monk's Kettle, part of the up and coming Belgian beer trend in San Francisco, which unfortunately probably means it is also soon be overly crowded and annoying. So I'm glad we went now, and we got there just in time, we snagged the last two seats at the bar and just minutes later people were filling in, standing behind us. The beer menu was incredible, we saw many "old friends." I decided if I was going to indulge it had better be something I knew I'd love so I ordered my favorite, the Rochefort 8. CF ordered a beer he had never had and was excited to try. The bartender looked at least slightly impressed with our selections but came back a minute later, they were out of CF's order. He suggested a replacement, something he was very excited about and they had just got in. The bartender said he'd have to join CF in drinking it, and they'd be the first two people to get to enjoy it. So CF got a glass of Monk's Cask and so did the bartender. We all clinked glasses and the noise level in the bar started to pick up. As I sipped the dark ale I felt like I was back in Belgium. CF was pleased with the beverage he ended up with. It was slightly fruity, but tart, much like Ms. D's favorite, the Saison DuPont, but even a little less sweet. We squeezed in another round and wobbled our way back to the BART station for the evening's main event.
The Z's were waiting out front of the Warfield with our tickets. Gogol Bordello, our gypsy punk band we saw in Paris, was back in town! The place was packed, noisy, and smoky. We could hear the opening band from the lobby as we indulged in yet another round of drinks (oh my, how it all adds up, I'd better finish up this post and get to the gym!). People started pouring out of the auditorium and we knew the opening band was done. We were ready to find our seats so we took the chance to get inside. There was a DJ on stage spinning some extremely loud Bhangra. KZ and I did a tiny bit of shoulder dancing and laughed. I was suddenly very sorry I hadn't brought earplugs, but right then PZ handed me the earplugs he had lent me in Paris. Awesome! We shuffled up to our seats and took in the crazy atmosphere around us. I don't know if I had ever seen such a wild vibe in the Warfield! And it only picked up from there when Gogol Bordello hit the stage. Although I was thankful for my seat, my own little reserved space, I was wondering what it was going to be like to sit down for the group I couldn't stop moving during before. But two songs in everyone was on their feet so that didn't matter anyway. It wasn't quite like seeing them in the smaller venue in Paris, but I'm so happy we went again.
After the concert we grabbed a bottle of water, said goodbye to the Z's as they headed back to Davis, and descended into a BART station full of concert attendees. Everyone was still pumped up, newly purchased t-shirts were pulled over various outfits right and left... my ears were ringing like crazy. Ouch. Before not too long our train arrived and we were on our way home. We mellowed out and the late hour finally sank in. CF graciously shared an earbud with me and we listened to his iPod until we got back to Millbrae and drove the rest of the way home. The night wasn't over yet though. He had to do laundry so he could pack for his trip! We meant to get it through the wash and into the dryer, but not surprisingly we didn't last that long.
So the next morning we got the clothes in the dryer and had breakfast home so he could pack afterwards. I dropped him off at work and said goodbye until Sunday. I was a bit of a zombie during my fortunately short day at work. Left around 4:30, had to fight my way home without use of the carpool lane, and well, you know the rest of the story (this is where this post began). What a week!!!
I've got a haircut scheduled in San Francisco (that's right, back for a third time in four days) this afternoon and also plan on hitting the gym, the farmer's market and brunch with Mr. MP along the way. At least I've rested up!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Shout out to my youngest reader/viewer!
TF (figure THAT one out!) is keeping up with all the nonsense I post here, and even watches all the youtube videos. Thanks for stopping by! -MW
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Smug.
Today we got up and ate breakfast, got dressed, and scurried off to the San Mateo Farmer's Market. We've frequented the Belmont one on Sunday mornings (now year round!) but never had made it to the larger San Mateo market on Saturdays. Now, it didn't compare to dear old Davis but it was very impressive. CF cursed the fact that we had already had breakfast when he start spotting the bakeries (little did he know I had orchestrated it this way on purpose, duh). We rounded up some asparagus, apples (from Apple Hill, ahh, memories), yummy cheese, gorgeous eggplants and red peppers, had a sample of this and that, waited in line for a very impressive looking bakery stand, and CF got an second dose of espresso for the morning. We are going to eat good this week! We headed straight to Whole Foods from there and bought the few things remaining on our list after such a success (turkey bacon and eggs have yet to be offered at our FM).
We came home and unloaded all the goodies from our various reusable shopping bags, had a little bite of yogurt and granola, and then we hit the hill. I finally got to take CF to see the lovely view I had found weeks ago. And now that I wasn't alone we adventured down the sloping dirt path and finally found our way into this big park we had seen on Google Maps and had only sort of found part of once. Brilliant! We came out in the part of the park that we had actually found before and saw how we had missed the path, though it wasn't obvious at all. We trekked home from there, still a ways away. The first part of our walk was straight up the hill, the work out part of our walk, the second part was adventuring in the park, and the third part, was the endurance part. Just trying to get home! Now we've just lunched on delicious sandwiches made from the whole wheat rolls we got this morning from the bakery (they say to follow the crowds at FM's, and they are right). I am basically on cloud nine.
Yesterday I told LT of my intentions to run/jog now. I mentioned my concerns about the impact and my knees and bendy joints. She said to stick to the treadmill for now, which is just fine with me. I did my intervals just like Ms. SW's program suggested. It wasn't all glorious this time around, I found myself obsessing over my chubby cheeks bouncing up and down my face as I ran, and twice the stupid emergency stop button was triggered on my first treadmill. I moved over but my concentration was pretty much shot. Even so, this girl now comes with real jogging action!
Feeling pretty darn healthy, happy, and smug. Not bad for someone who has no idea what they're doing with their life, eh?
We came home and unloaded all the goodies from our various reusable shopping bags, had a little bite of yogurt and granola, and then we hit the hill. I finally got to take CF to see the lovely view I had found weeks ago. And now that I wasn't alone we adventured down the sloping dirt path and finally found our way into this big park we had seen on Google Maps and had only sort of found part of once. Brilliant! We came out in the part of the park that we had actually found before and saw how we had missed the path, though it wasn't obvious at all. We trekked home from there, still a ways away. The first part of our walk was straight up the hill, the work out part of our walk, the second part was adventuring in the park, and the third part, was the endurance part. Just trying to get home! Now we've just lunched on delicious sandwiches made from the whole wheat rolls we got this morning from the bakery (they say to follow the crowds at FM's, and they are right). I am basically on cloud nine.
Yesterday I told LT of my intentions to run/jog now. I mentioned my concerns about the impact and my knees and bendy joints. She said to stick to the treadmill for now, which is just fine with me. I did my intervals just like Ms. SW's program suggested. It wasn't all glorious this time around, I found myself obsessing over my chubby cheeks bouncing up and down my face as I ran, and twice the stupid emergency stop button was triggered on my first treadmill. I moved over but my concentration was pretty much shot. Even so, this girl now comes with real jogging action!
Feeling pretty darn healthy, happy, and smug. Not bad for someone who has no idea what they're doing with their life, eh?
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
One of the me's you don't know.
Sometimes I feel like I lead several different lives. One of these lives is the me I am at the gym. I have never had a workout buddy so no one I know from other parts of my life really knows this part of me. Yesterday I got out of bed at 5:15 and put on gym clothes, went to a spin class, came home and left the house again with CF to carpool to work (and breakfast!) before I ever really woke up. Thinking back on the spin class later in the day it almost seemed like it was all a dream. And this is frequently the case with these classes. I like it much better than having to go to the gym at the end of the day, dreading it and just wanting to go home and put my feet up instead.
The gym is a little world of it's own. I'm guessing it's a lot like your gym, but what I mean is that people can have very different identities there than they do in the outside world. LT was telling me earlier today that she has a reputation for having a recognizable clientele. "What the heck does that mean?" I asked and she wouldn't really answer. I guess we're all a bit loud, a bit smart-mouthed. LT seems very serious when you first meet her but the sass comes out very quickly. I had to learn to hold my ground with her. One day she wanted me to do the squat machine that always, always, always makes little blood vessels in my shoulders red. I hate it. I whined to her, "Nooooo, please can I do that leg press instead? I like that one." "Don't you want your booty to look good?" "Noooo!" She was so surprised to hear any woman say that she caved and let me do my leg press. One day I tattled something silly she said to OT (no relation except they got certified together) and she was so mad at me she insisted I was going to do these single armed shoulder/lat pull downs until she got tired of watching me do them. "Well, you'll never get tired of looking at this!" I said as I pulled down the arm on her side and gave her the look that she always accuses of being "sultry." She threw her head back and laughed. Who says getting exercise isn't fun? She also told me once that people ask her what she has me do in the way of flexibility training. "Ummmm, nothing," she has to tell them. But apparently the other trainers like to tell people I've worked hard at becoming so bendy. Some people would kill to be as flexible as I seem to be destined to be all my life naturally. "You're the envy of the gym," she tells me. Me? The envy of meat-head central? Go figure!
And then there's the little part of me that's even more secret. But these are things about me that seem to be disappearing slowly, like the weight. I didn't used to have the guts to use the weight room, I still don't particularly like working out alone but it is something I have conquered. Basically since high school I have never changed in the dressing room part of the locker room. I do what I can to get dressed for the gym at home, and I always shower at home. If I was stuck getting changed into gym clothes there I did it in a stall of the restroom. I saw women of all shapes and sizes changing out in the dressing room but I still felt too gross to do so myself. Well, I did it quickly and there was hardly anyone even in the place but I conquered that fear as well last week. It's just stupid that something as simple as just using a dressing room like everyone else can remind me to appreciate how far I've come.
And just earlier today I accomplished something that I didn't think I'd ever really do. Now, I do spin classes, and go for long periods of time on the elliptical trainers, and walk up and down this crazy hill in my neighborhood. But I had not run since high school as well, not even a slow jog. I knew I was getting fitter and lighter but my knees are still a bit weak from years of carrying most of 300 pounds around. I didn't think I could... no, I didn't think I should run. I don't know where the urge came from but today I found myself cranking up the speed on my treadmill. I couldn't get away with a fast paced walking stance, and I found myself shifting into a runner's stance. This was at a speed that my husband could probably still walk with those long crazy legs of his, but there I was, basically jogging. I tried to ignore the awful feeling of my backside not enjoying the higher impact activity, and it was easy once I really looked myself in the mirror. I loved the sight, it made me want to keep going! Instead I slowed back down after one minute, and took two minutes of my usual pace before cranking it back up again. I didn't want to over do it. Again I did a minute like that and then slowed back down. But after not quite two minutes at the slower pace I realized that I had been in the gym for over an hour and a half and these were the last couple minutes of my workout. What was I holding back for? So I spent the last two and a half minutes jogging and I enjoyed every second of it. I take a lot of happiness from these small victories in life.
Do you appreciate your accomplishments? Will you conquer your fears? I know you can.
The gym is a little world of it's own. I'm guessing it's a lot like your gym, but what I mean is that people can have very different identities there than they do in the outside world. LT was telling me earlier today that she has a reputation for having a recognizable clientele. "What the heck does that mean?" I asked and she wouldn't really answer. I guess we're all a bit loud, a bit smart-mouthed. LT seems very serious when you first meet her but the sass comes out very quickly. I had to learn to hold my ground with her. One day she wanted me to do the squat machine that always, always, always makes little blood vessels in my shoulders red. I hate it. I whined to her, "Nooooo, please can I do that leg press instead? I like that one." "Don't you want your booty to look good?" "Noooo!" She was so surprised to hear any woman say that she caved and let me do my leg press. One day I tattled something silly she said to OT (no relation except they got certified together) and she was so mad at me she insisted I was going to do these single armed shoulder/lat pull downs until she got tired of watching me do them. "Well, you'll never get tired of looking at this!" I said as I pulled down the arm on her side and gave her the look that she always accuses of being "sultry." She threw her head back and laughed. Who says getting exercise isn't fun? She also told me once that people ask her what she has me do in the way of flexibility training. "Ummmm, nothing," she has to tell them. But apparently the other trainers like to tell people I've worked hard at becoming so bendy. Some people would kill to be as flexible as I seem to be destined to be all my life naturally. "You're the envy of the gym," she tells me. Me? The envy of meat-head central? Go figure!
And then there's the little part of me that's even more secret. But these are things about me that seem to be disappearing slowly, like the weight. I didn't used to have the guts to use the weight room, I still don't particularly like working out alone but it is something I have conquered. Basically since high school I have never changed in the dressing room part of the locker room. I do what I can to get dressed for the gym at home, and I always shower at home. If I was stuck getting changed into gym clothes there I did it in a stall of the restroom. I saw women of all shapes and sizes changing out in the dressing room but I still felt too gross to do so myself. Well, I did it quickly and there was hardly anyone even in the place but I conquered that fear as well last week. It's just stupid that something as simple as just using a dressing room like everyone else can remind me to appreciate how far I've come.
And just earlier today I accomplished something that I didn't think I'd ever really do. Now, I do spin classes, and go for long periods of time on the elliptical trainers, and walk up and down this crazy hill in my neighborhood. But I had not run since high school as well, not even a slow jog. I knew I was getting fitter and lighter but my knees are still a bit weak from years of carrying most of 300 pounds around. I didn't think I could... no, I didn't think I should run. I don't know where the urge came from but today I found myself cranking up the speed on my treadmill. I couldn't get away with a fast paced walking stance, and I found myself shifting into a runner's stance. This was at a speed that my husband could probably still walk with those long crazy legs of his, but there I was, basically jogging. I tried to ignore the awful feeling of my backside not enjoying the higher impact activity, and it was easy once I really looked myself in the mirror. I loved the sight, it made me want to keep going! Instead I slowed back down after one minute, and took two minutes of my usual pace before cranking it back up again. I didn't want to over do it. Again I did a minute like that and then slowed back down. But after not quite two minutes at the slower pace I realized that I had been in the gym for over an hour and a half and these were the last couple minutes of my workout. What was I holding back for? So I spent the last two and a half minutes jogging and I enjoyed every second of it. I take a lot of happiness from these small victories in life.
Do you appreciate your accomplishments? Will you conquer your fears? I know you can.
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