Flannel Sheets in Cabin

I walked into M and P's cabin on Friday night, and found the pillow cases from the first flannel sheet set I ever had draped across the TV screen. I don't generally expect to walk into a room and find the geese on which I learned to choke my chicken. Holy cow!...or, as we used to say, "Holy Cow! Maybe it's a steer!"

Suicide Rock

This is Suicide Rock. I walked to the top today. At the top, I climbed up on one of the big old boulders and soaked up the sun and the wide vista of the town of Idylwild below and the Southern California mountains below.

I jumped off the rock, but misjudged the distance to the ground, and endeded up doing a face plant. Ivano and Martin saw me jump from behind, and then heard a series of thuds. They were freaked out for a second, then realized I was okay.

And like all good outings among friends, this misshap (bloody palms and all) became part of a running, non-politically-correct joke.

"I can't even jump off suiside rock properly!"

Hidden Photographer a la New York Times

The New York Times recently had a story about men who hire photographers to lurk in the shadows and take pictures of the moment the man asks his girlfriend to marry him.

Here, three gay men re-enact this scene. Unfortunately, the man who was supposed to do the marriage proposal didn't follow the directions. Instead of asking for the man's hand in marriage, he asked him to say "cheese." The photographer lurking in the shadows just sat there and waited for a man to go down on one knee. when it didn't happen, he started text messaging a friend in Holland.

Water Polo on Campus

Things overheard from the young women behind us:

* "There are so many girls here I hate."

* "No thanks [to an offer for Doritos], I started my Halloween diet on Monday."

* "That sports bra is one size too small."

Sweet Gum Red

So...it's sept 27 and the sweet gums are near their "peak color." That's what YOU think (and what I thought last year). If this year is like last, the red is gonna last and last...I'll keep taking pictures to document just how long the red lasts here in san diego

dudleya

Dudleya.

Dude.

Dude-leya.

Dude, a dudleya.

A dudleya dude.

Plants know what's up.

Why do we have such a hard time with the same tasks?

Why isn't sunshine and water enough to make us happy?

I'd be happy with C3 photosynthesis. I don't need no stinkin' C4 bullshit.

Three carbons is enough.

Hell. I'd be happy with just two carbons, if I could figure out how to open my skin and feed off the carbon dioxide expelled by the crazy mammals, busy with their mammary glands, testes and internal temperature worries.

I'd trade a Jamba Juice for a C3 smoothie.

"Carbon dioxide swirl, please."

"what size," she asks.

"I'll take 20 cubic feet of New York City air."

"what borough?"

"brooklyn"

"what neighborhood?"

"hmm...what about Crown Heights."

"Sorry. We're all out. We have Bensenhurst, Coney Island and Park Slope South"

"I'll take Coney Island. I better get some of that roller coaster air while it's still there."

"Do you want a free boost?"

"Yeah. Carbon monoxide please."

"name?"

"dudleya"

"okay dudley. comin right up."

thirty fucking one

Happy Birthday Matt! (keep reading, you were an English major after all...)

Happy Blur Day

...and...

Outgrow Vegetbles?

Happy Birthday Matt. : )

Dude, why is your avatar in underwear?

Kelly: Dude, why is your avatar in underwear?

Me: Huh? I didn't even know my avatar has a body. All I see is his face.

Kelly: Yeah. I see his whole body. It looks like he's wearing blue boxers.

..and it went on like this for a few more lines...I don't really like my Yahoo chat avatar. He's a total product queen and his eyebrows are way too waxed. But now that I know he is wandering around the Internet in his undies without my permission, I feel a connection. Maybe he really is my digital alter ego. Maybe he's some yahoo version of frosty the snowman. Or maybe my computer is infected with a virus that makes avatar streak the Internet and freak folks out with his lack of personal hygiene and disturbing voting record. I guess only time will tell. In the meantime, please let me know if he takes off any more clothes.

buon compleanno, Gennaro!

more happy birthday douglas

Happy Birthday Douglas...snail's pace

Happy Birthday Douglas.

Remember this snail?

It's a Salk-sidewalk snail.

Perhaps a male salk-sidewalk snail leaving a snail trail.

Does this count as snail mail?

Malvina Reynolds - The Little Red Hen

remember this story from my childhood. But the reason i posted it is because it's on the same cd as the song that I talk about below...I couldn't find a video of that song on YouTube.

Ciao Malvina

I'm listening to Malvina Reynolds sing it like it is right now.

some lyrics from the first track to the complation "Ear to the Ground"

it isn' nice to block the doorway

it isn't nice to go to jail

there are nicer ways to do it

but the nice ways always fail ....

it isn't nice it isn't nice

you told us once you told us twice

but if that is freedom's price

we don't mind

...

we have tried negotioan

and the three-man picket line

mr charlie didn't see us

and he might as well be blind

now our new ways aren't nice

when we deal with men of ice

but if that is freedom's price

we don't mind

the song goes on...the cd goes on...Malvina's spirit goes on...

you may have heard her song "Little Boxes." I encountered it just two weeks ago, when I saw it used in the intro to the TV show Weeds. It's fabulous.

loaves and fishes

...hold the loaves

I totally forgot...

Two days ago, my old roomate from New York sent me an email with a question about yoga in DC. He mentioned the nickname that he gave my ex-boyfriend. The nickname: Napoleon. Of course I remembered as soon as I heard it...and then I remembered shopping for monkfish at the Union Square farmer's market on Christmas Eve 1999 with Napoleon...and I thought, "how could I forget a name like that???"

Yogurt Coincidence!

So...Ivano and I were sitting at the breakfast table this morning, eating our yogurt and milk and fruit and cereal and perusing the weekly ads from the three grocery stores that we shop at. Among the meat sales and the realization that heirloom tomatoes are 300% more expensive that chicken legs, I noticed yogurt innovations. Your turn your head for one minute and the yogurt makers innovate. First it was the crunchies they packed on top to give you that fresh yogurt parfait party at home (or in your college dorm room). Then it was the low-fat, no-fat, low-sugar, no-sugar, low-carb, no-carb craze. Next came the flavor revolution: coffee flavored, toasted almond, strawberry cheese cake and key lime pie. Since when did yogurt flavors start stealing ideas from the dessert menu at TGIFridays? And now? And now, whipped yogurt. As they say: "Whips! light & fluffy." I didn't know yogurt wanted to become a marshmallow, or lemon meringue...but since yogurt has already taken on these flavors, why not steal the texture too. Besides, what are "novelty yogurts" other than a trick, a work-around for pigging out on what you told yourself you wouldn't touch. It's true that I haven't tried the whipped yogurt. And I'm not against "the whipped movement" per se. Whipped chream cheese is a blessing. I just think it's bizzare that food companies keep changing everything all the time. And sometimes there are good reasons: the low-cholesterol milk I stumbled upon this morning is a good thing. The de-veined shrimp will keep people out of therapy for years. But fluffed beef? What the hell is fluffed beef? (in the non-pornography sense). Technically, we're talking about Fresh Premium Ground Beef, Not to Exceed 20% fat, sold in either a "Fluff Pack" or a "Flavor Seal Chub." Do you think they could add a little key lime pie flavor to the chub, and fluff it just a tad? PS: After my whipped yogurt and fluffed beef breakfast, I checked my brother douglas' blog...only to find that he too blogged about a yogurt adventure today. what up wit dat????

Hollywood Loses Power b/c of Excessive Heat

And all that heat was not being produced by Brad Pitt (or, enter favorite love-to-hate, but-also- really-just-think-is-hot celebrity here). We did our part to conserve electricty today. Ivano hung out in a place that was going to be air conditioned whether he was in it or not. And I was at the beach. And when I got home, I noticed that Ivano had hung a big load of wet laundry on our drying racks in the office/guest bedroom. They were dried to a crisp. A couple of the heavy cotton shorts and shirts were smooth...as if they had been ironed. See, our heat wave is good for something...and that something is a reminder that anyone can save a butt load of electricity by drying your clothes on racks rather than in the dryer. Of course, being a suburban dorky american, I'm totally attached to the dryer. Ivano is not. He grew up in a place where clothes dry on racks and lines, not in dryers. Go ivano! What's funny about this is that I'm the one who is (vocally) worried about the huge power transmission line San Diego Gas & Electric wants to run through San Diego's Anza Borrego State Park. But Ivano is the one actually conserving the electricity in our house. And energy conservation is important for controlling future electricity demand and thus reducing the need for new power transmission lines. Whether it is wilderness, scenic rural land, suburbs or cities, nobody wants new powerlines in their backyard or areas they care about (except the people/companies that will profit off of their construction and operation).

Labor Day Sunset

This evening, I found myself swimming in the Pacific Ocean and watching the sunset while treading water. "Ciao sun! see you tomorrow!" I yelled from the calm waters in La Jolla cove. It's so cheesy to wave goodbye to the summer sun. Especially in San Diego, where everyone (who doesn't live here) thinks there is just one season. If January and August in San Diego are the same, then I'm Abe Lincoln. We're sweating our asses off in this apt. Ivano had to camp out in his office this weekend because it was way to hot to work from home. Today's coping mechanism, however, was all about the beach: i went to the beach three times today. The first time, was our 2.5 hour morning walk within an in-tact surfer ecosystem. I kind of felt like I was on a human safari. Beach trip #2 involved me full body surfing at Black's beach in the afternoon. Beach trip #3? Two friends from the apt complex and I went to La Jolla cove...as described above. MMM...beach...MMM...Labor Day... And right now I'm eating an "heirloom" tomato that is sweeter than all the peaches I've eaten this summer. I hope this is really "heirloom" and not just an excuse to slip us new, weird looking, overly sweet varieties that buyers (like me) will only accept under the guise of "heirloom." As if eating this "heirloom" tomato is going to transport me back to the hen house on my grandparents farm, circa 1980. I never could understand why she had to kill all the chickens for roasting. As a grandchild visitor, didn't see understand that collecting eggs would be much more fun than collecting chicken livers???. In addition, eating the funky looking, almost-strawberry-tasting, twice as expensive as regular tomatoes did not take actually me back to my grandmother's vegetable garden in 1984, with the milk cartons filled with water surrounding her tender tomato plants against the cold nights of May. So, I just complained that eating the heirloom tomato is not going to bring me back to a couple of cherished moments from childhood. But, by saying what the tomato can not do, I got to return to those moments in my mind and enjoy them. So, the question is: can I just browse the heirloom tomato pile at the grocery story and reminisce from afar? or do I need to buy in order to get the emotional/memory-based benefits. Hard to say. Perhaps this is a re-framing of the question: Is window shopping ultimately satisfying?