Keep The Frosty in Columbus, please.

Aw, man. Not Wendy's. (I know it's a fast food chain, but that's some sacred Ohio ground right there.)

I guess I should have known things were amiss when someone decided it was o.k. to offer a vanilla Frosty. (Ahem, EVERYONE knows The Frosty is chocolate. There is no other Frosty flavor.)

And by the way, Arby's ... I have patronized you out of geographic necessity, but let's face it. Rax was always better.

Writing class - week 4

Discussion was a bit flat tonight. If I were our instructor I would have been tempted to douse us with water.

Our instructor did win (little does he know) for my favorite quote of the day. When discussing a character's dialogue (in our Hemingway reading assignment from last week,) he actually said, "Holster that magnanimity, dude."

I will now try to figure out ways to work that into daily conversation as much as possible.

A lack of self-awareness ...

... was never my problem.

I want to ride my bicycle. I want to ride my bike.

I've been spending every free moment of the weekends trying to work on the house and/or catch up on all the things that my lack of time during the week cannot allow me to tackle. But the weather and such were really tempting me today, so I headed out.

I explored various routes for about an hour before finally making my way to the trails where Gilman Street meets the water. I made my way up the hill behind Golden Gate Fields (which kicked my ass, but did NOT beat me) and to the far end of the GGF parking lot. Bizarrely, from above I had a perfect view of what appeared to be some type of stock car races taking place in the parking lot below. It was a nice, brief respite before I headed out again.

I rode back behind the fields and headed to Point Isabel, where some of my favorite trails and view spots are located. I followed the water as long as I could, before the trail curfew could catch up with me, and then I headed back home.

I hope the weather holds up for this weekend. I really cannot wait to head out again.

Take Your Child to Work Day

I work for one of those companies where the employees not only bring their children, but also their children's friends. Employees without children bring nieces and nephews and neighbors and such. 'Cause yeah, we've got it goin' on like that for the kids.

And like Julie the Cruise Director, I helm the activity ship for our short visitors for half of the day, with help from some other co-workers.

Every year, I can file it under, "Exhausting, but rewarding." I know many of the kids by now, seeing them year after year. And I enjoy putting together the programs for them, 'cause they almost always crack me up. (Ten year olds in a manga drawing class = good times.) I am flattered that they keep coming back in the face of preteen indifference. And I'll keep believing that they are choosing to join us out of sheer enthusiasm, even knowing the alternative is going to school.

My only complaint is that many of the people who bring the children don't seem to get the concept of why the day was created. A few take them to meetings or whatnot. But mostly, they just leave them to run around, or read, or watch t.v. for the day. I make changes each year to discourage that as much as possible, but I think it is what it is at this point.

I interrupt people.

I just noticed I'd started doing this at the end of last week.

It's really rude and I'm kind of mortified, because of the items on my list of flaws, I was pretty sure "rude" hadn't made the cut.

It gives the impression that I am not listening to people and am just waiting for them to finish speaking so I can talk. And even worse, that I don't even have the courtesy to wait for them to finish speaking. In my head, I know that's not true. Often, I rather like when other people are speaking. I don't tend to learn much when I'm talking and much of the time, I'm not sure that what I'm saying is, frankly, all that interesting.

But I think I know which elements in my life recently (Hi, work) have probably encouraged my impatience. Now it's time to bring on the self-correction.

Writing class - week three

It's nice to be writing again, and in some ways, even nicer to be reading again. (I used to be a voracious reader and I now I don't consume even a shred of the amount of text I once did.) I actually look forward to reading, dissecting, and discussing the short stories we are assigned from week to week.

My favorite moment tonight came when my friend responded to our instructor's question about a certain part of one of those short stories. After my friend stated his opinion, the instructor asked if anyone agreed with my friend's assessment. When the (often too) quiet group didn't respond, my friend proceeded to raise his hand and explain why he agreed with the point. To which the instructor laughed and said, "Did you just agree with yourself?"

Happy Earth Day

Have you hugged a tree today?

(Photo from here.)

Coincidence that this was printed on 4/20?

I think not.

A new branch of the family tree

Apparently this is what it looked like:

Here Comes the Bro

(Yeah, J. I'm callin' you out.)

I had a couple missed calls from my brother yesterday and was finally able to call him back at about 5:30 (PST.)

He started the conversation in a most fantastic fashion. Something like, "I want to tell you something, but I don't want you to get upset."

Awesome.

Then he said, "I'm getting married tomorrow."

What he (and everyone else sitting on the third floor) heard me say was, "WHAT!?!" (I told him to hold on so that I could tell the rest of the floor why I yelled. Once I told them, there was a mighty echo of "WHAT?!?" Apparently, that is the correct response.)

Story about deciding to go to city hall ... blah blah blah ... made an appointment ... blah blah blah ... would have a big party-ish thing some time later ... blah blah blah ... and meanwhile, I was looking up at the date on the calendar. And he then revealed that he knew what I would have pointed out eventually, (because mom had reminded him,) that April 17 was actually our parents' wedding anniversary.

I really hope April 17 works out better for them.

Congrats, kids. I'll talk to you later.

Word of the Week

I've used the word "flummoxed" several times since Thursday.

"Gobsmacked" is running a close second.

(That should explain a lot about the last several days.)

Writer's block already?

I'm not crazy about what I read aloud and turned in tonight. I guess I'll find out what he thought of it next week.

At least they were laughing in all the right places ...

I still got it.

I still rule the Ms. Pac Man machine.

Take that, Final Final.

Kudos to last night's company

The quote/sketch book is all the more soiled, in all the best ways.

That laughter felt good.

I'll miss the chicken basket most, Scarecrow.

Both my mom and brother called me this afternoon to tell me that Stan's was on fire. I was crushed.

I cannot overstate the amount of time and meals and history I have had at Stan's over the years. My dad and went to school with Stan's daughter. My parents apparently held their rehearsal dinner at Stan's. And I shared numerous meals there with my grandparents, dating back to a time before I can even recall having memories.

Stan's creates the ultimate comfort food. (I don't know that my brother or I have ever eaten anything there other than their tremendous chicken basket. I never really bothered to inspect the menu beyond that item, but that dish is perfection so it doesn't matter.) The food and prices there never change. The staff there rarely changes. The Strawberry Chewz at the front counter are still 25 cents, just like every time my grandpa bought a pack of them for me, as he paid the bill and took a toothpick off the counter.

In December, for my last meal before returning to CA, my mom, brother, dad, and I took my brother's girlfriend and her three daughters to Stan's. We didn't really say it, but it was our way of keeping something going, a tradition that we had some control over preserving. We told the girls stories about how we'd used to come there when we were their age, and about our grandparents, and the like. And we ordered chicken baskets. And I bought myself two packs of Strawberry Chewz for the plane ride home.

I truly, truly hope they decide to rebuild. I'll happily fly back and help. I just really need Stan's to be there.

Update (04.11): This article slays me.

Got torch?

I started the day a bit anxious about the torch relay in SF. If you've managed to keep your head under a rock (in which case, ouch) you may have missed the drama in the cities that preceded us.

My anxiety was formed mainly by the fact that my workplace was sitting on the intended torch route. The forecast was exciting, with a chance of danger.

I posted intranet updates throughout the day as the countdown to the relay grew closer, and many were listening to live feeds as 1:00 arrived. And then the entire event fairly quickly went from chaos to comedy gold.

From the start, city officials had warned that the route would likely be changed at a moment's notice. And they weren't kidding, because for large periods of time, it didn't seem like anyone knew where the hell the torch was. The sfgate.com headlines just added to the hilarity:

'Torch Disappears Into Warehouse on Pier 48' (Like the torch was a dealer in an episode of Law & Order: SVU).

'Torch Takes a Bus' (We hoped it wasn't waiting for the 30, 'cause that bus NEVER comes on time.)

At one point, the update even said the torch had gotten on a ferry. The Alcatraz tour is not to be missed by tourists.

I could see that a crowd of my coworkers were standing on the corner outside our building, just as one of the updates had said that it was likely not coming our way. So I ran down the stairwell to crush their dreams and tell them it was likely not coming (but to check the updates.)

No more than 30 minutes later, the torch had gotten off its bus and made its way (sort of) toward its original route. I started to get updates not only from the local news, but also from a co-worker who was getting constant text updates from protesting friends about where they were to head to get to the torch. (As another co-worker awesomely put it, "She kept getting texts from Patty Hearst.") Most of our building was clearing out, since our employees were heading back outside.

I stayed upstairs at my desk for a while with another coworker. We probably would have stayed inside even longer until we saw about half a dozen or so protesters run down the street with a flurry of Tibetan flags. We sprinted down the stairwell like a couple kids on a disorganized fire drill.

There wasn't much to see as we all stood in the street, which was blocked off by one of those evil little vehicles that tickets cars parked on the street. At that point, no one knew where the torch was or if it really was coming to us, but over half of the company was outside anyway. (Frankly, we missed a prime opportunity for a block party.) In a move we found equally tacky and hilarious, our PR Director held our company's banner at the corner, just in case the cameras did reach us.

Alas, it was not to be, as the torch only flirted with our street and then went its own way. I'm sorry for those who truly were disappointed to not see it, but I can't say it ruined the entertainment value of the day for me.

I have homework.

I've been on the fringe of the Berkeley campus many a time, but I've never stepped into one of the Cal classrooms before tonight.

It's quite intimidating to go back to class since the last one I took was in a different century. But despite the ample nerves, I think I did all right. It was trial by fire to go back after that long AND have to write on the spot AND have to read what I'd written in front of a group of people that do not share the duration of my writing class hiatus. I have to give credit to the instructor, whose easy manner and approach I really like so far.

But, in case you were wondering, you shouldn't expect the quality of the writing here to increase.

The stigma

My friend was relaying to me tonight a conversation she'd had with a co-worker. Her co-worker prefaced their conversation with the always charming disclaimer, "I'll understand if you don't still want to friends with me after I tell you this."

She then revealed to my friend that she had just found out that she has diabetes.

My friend was apparently just as confused as I was as to why this was a friendship deal-breaker. So her co-worker informed my friend that there is a stigma attached to people with diabetes.

Were you aware of that? I COMPLETELY missed that one. And now I wonder what other ailments and diseases I've allowed myself to overlook all these years without looking down upon the people who have them. *sigh*

Meet White Diamond.

You're creeped out, too, right?

It just occurred to me ...

April 1 marked the first month in my adult (not living with a parent) life that I didn't owe a rent payment.

This s*#t is crazy.

So long, Skybus

I had written a post when I got back from OH this last time (that was never published,) complaining that Skybus was canceling flights to the West Coast.

I guess it was more serious than that.

Truly, truly a great opportunity wasted and mismanaged.

Yay! Jaffa Cakes!

In the middle of all the work stress and chaos, I came back to my desk to find three Jaffa Cakes.

Bearing the torch

The Olympic torch will be passing directly by my workplace on Wednesday, April 9.

A few co-workers and I were discussing that we found it interesting that San Francisco is the only U.S. city to get a visit from the torch, particularly because this city is well-known as one that is not shy about protesting.

I understand and support the protests completely, but also feel that the location of the Games and the spirit of the Games should be seen as separate ideas. So I was thrilled Mayor Newsom had this to say:

Newsom warned activist groups to remember that the Olympics aren't about politics but about the performance of athletes and "the spirit of unity and the things that unite us.

"Don't protest the torch bearers," Newsom said. "Please separate your condemnation from the person who's running (with the torch) or in a wheelchair carrying the torch."

We'll see how things go next week.