Mac and Cheese Delicious Soup

I found this recipe and then made it awesome! It is also done in under 30 minutes, so that isn't terrible either!

1 1/3 c. uncooked elbow macaroni
1/2 pound spicy or mild uncooked italian sausage (or without for you non meat eaters)
Olive oil
1/2 sweet onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1/2 c. flour (or gluten free flour for you gluten free eaters)
4 c. chicken broth
1 1/2 c. milk
3 c. cheese - mix what you want, I used colby jack, but you can get fancy
1/4 c. white wine
Kosher salt and Ground pepper to taste - you want to flavor each level
1/2 c. croutons (flavored or not) beaten to a pulp

1. Bring a medium sauce pan to a boil. Add the macaroni and salt and cook till almost al dente. Drain and rise. Save 1/4 c. of the the pasta water.

2. Chop the onion and the carrot. If you have a food processor, use it, you won't tear up cutting the onions. But if you want more of a hearty taste, chop it yourself. Cavemen did not have food processors.

3. Grate the cheese. You can get fancy here and add all sorts of cheese, because cheese is awesome and makes everything taste better. Be creative, I wasn't, I just used colby jack. It was still great. Also, the original recipe called for 1 1/2 cup, but apparently that wasn't enough for me, and the 3 cups was not over powering and seemed like the perfect amount.

4. In a 4 quart saucepan, add about 1/4 c olive oil (just guessing here, I just poured in a healthy amount) and cook the veggies until soft (4 to 5 minutes), flavor with salt and pepper, half way through add the white wine. Also here, you should pour yourself a glass of the white wine, because if you are not going to drink it, you shouldn't cook with it. Plus you just chopped a lot of vegetables and deserve the reward. So cook with some, drink some more.  Add the sausage and brown. If the pan gets dry, add more olive oil or wine. Once the sausage is cooked, add the flour, stirring for 2 minutes. Gradually stir in the chicken broth and remaining pasta water and bring to a boil. Stir the whole time to deglaze the pan and thicken the stock. Bring to a boil and cook for 6 to 7 minutes so it thickens.

5. Beat the croutons. It is fun. More so if you've had a bad day and you can pretend it is your bosses/spouses/coworkers/random persons face. We all need an outlet, even if it is stale bread. And take another sip of wine, or gulp, which ever you prefer.

6. Reduce heat to low, should be thick and smell like meat (and if you don't eat meat, the original recipe didn't have meat, so don't include it, but then you should also reduce the amount of flour to 1/4 c., and if you don't like sausage, I think bacon would be great too, which was my original plan, until I saw the sausage at the grocery store). Add in the macaroni, milk, cheese and salt and pepper and stir until everything melts. Let it set on low to barely there heat for 15-20 minutes. Very low heat, you can even turn the heat off and let it sit there. It will thicken and become glorious (I used this time to clean the dishes, but leave them there if you have someone else to clean them and just enjoy your wine and accomplishment). Turn the heat up after the 15-20 minutes, bring to a quick boil and then turn off heat. Sounds strange, but it made a huge difference.

7. Dish out and garnish with beaten up croutons.

8. Enjoy with more wine.

Yes, but it's a Parrot!

I have always known that I have a mortal fear of snakes and now apparently I have the same tolerance for parrots. I found this out the other day while I was working at a clients house. I've never been a fan of parrots, and actually I don’t discriminate against any bird. I pretty much dislike all shapes and forms that they come in, but specifically parrots remind me of some freaky prehistoric era leftover that looks like it is going to attack you with it’s freakish beak, beady eyes and velociraptor claws. I went to Maui with a girl friend back in 2001 and she insisted that we stop off at a road side tourist trap where you take pictures with 15 parrots and needless to say, I stayed in the car while she posed with the little flying freaks. I also think people who own birds are weird (sorry, I do) and I always request full disclosure when entering a house with birds.

With that said, I was not prepared for this client’s house. The whole reason for going to the house made it a bit of an interesting day; we were going to inventory and gather information on a deceased client’s estate for probate. It is really strange to rummage through a dead persons belongings, even more so, to do so in their house. So I was a bit precarious about going in the first place. Despite the fact that I deal with death on a daily basis, dealing with it behind a desk is much easier than actually being surrounded by it. As soon as I entered the house we were greeted with the loudest, ear bleeding squawk that no one should ever be privy to hear, and in a matter of zero to three seconds, I lost my cool calm exterior and transformed into a tense paranoid idiot. Shortly thereafter the daughter entered the room holding a long stick with the ugliest, scariest, loudest, green ball of freakish feathers perched on it. Still squawking.

Daughter: “Oh, he’ll be fine, we just woke him up. Would you guys like to pet him, but becareful he may bite, he bites me all the time.”

My head: “Get that thing away from me.”

Bird: “I smell fear and will chase you around the house. Sqqquuuuaaawwwkkk”

Apparently the “home office” where we needed to gather documents also served as the birds room. It did not have a cage, but rather roamed freely around the entire house. Needless to say, my productivity was at an all time low mainly because the parrot decided to be my shadow. I would move to one side of the room, the bird would too. I would move into the living room, the bird would too. No matter where I went, the bird followed. It would also climb up the chairs (biting on the chair and using its velociraptor claws) to get on top of the table so he could have eye contact with me. By all definitions, this bird was stalking me. He probably got some sick satisfaction out of repeating “hello!” and watching me jump and run each time he did. When the bird was not near me, I was constantly looking over my shoulder waiting for it to sneak around the corner only to chase me into another part of the house. I participated in this song and dance for almost 2 hours and on our way out, he bit my boss’ toe and chased us out the door.

By the time I got back into the office my chest hurt from being so tense. My boss, despite being viciously attacked, thought the thing was cute and said that she wished we could have a bird or a dog in our office. I kindly and rather quickly suggested that a dog would be much more enjoyable and less stressful.

30 Little Things: 3: Something That Really Bugs Me

If something bad happens in your life, how do you explain it? “Such is life...” “Dang it, why was I such an idiot....” “Dang it, why was that person such an idiot...” or the good ole stand by of shaking your fist in the air? What really chaps my hide, or really bugs me, is when someone says "It’s a blessing in disguise." Really? A blessing? No, I don't think so. Something bad happening is never a blessing. Ever.

And now on to my soap box:

Things happen in life. Bad things happen to good people. Good people do bad things. Life just sometimes happens. But why do some people call the bad times a blessing? um, so you're saying that I should thank someone or some higher power for tragedy, strife and/or heartache? No, I’m not buying it. We live in a culture of "dog eat dog" and "survival of the fittest." So when something bad happens, you don’t just go stagnate and say thanks, you adjust your life accordingly and venture down a new path. We all hope that the new path will bring us luck and happiness, and often times it does, but that is no reason to count your pits as blessings. I don’t think I will ever look back on my hard times and say "gee I am so glad I went through that because it got me this and that." No, I had to pick myself up, deal with emotions that I never wanted to deal with, and then begin to look for a better tomorrow down other avenues. Who is to say that if tragedy didn’t strike that I wouldn’t be where I am now or know the people I know today. If there really is a master plan and we are all just walking down a predetermined path, then really, nothing is a blessing, it is just life.

I had a job in LA that I hated. I had been there for 2.5 years and couldn't stand to work there another day. But I bit the bullet and dealt with the bureaucracy and the bs but I was also looking for another job. They called me in on a Thursday and "let me go." I already had 3 interviews lined up for the next day and had planned on taking the day off to go to them but I refuse to think of that example as a blessing in disguise because I would have never left that job without having one lined up. Plus I didn't get any of those jobs and I am still recovering; I had to adjust my life accordingly and make the best out of a bad situation. What I do count as blessings are my amazing family who took me in with open arms, support and unconditional love; my good friends who stood by me and provided an ear and a shoulder; and that I am healthy and happy.

Maybe it is just an everyday cliche that people say to make the hard times seem better, I mean there are so many ("what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger" is another doozy) and it is so easy to get caught in a self-indulged pity party. And maybe we do need some kind of rationale that will help bring us out of the doom and gloom and into the light for the sake of our sanity. I have no idea. All I know is that things in life have happened. Some good, some bad, some I caused, some other people had a hand in. I am not going to thank my lucky stars for the tears, the red in my bank account, and the pain. I’ve seen things and felt things that I hope I never experience again and I absolutely do not look back on any of the bad stuff as blessings.

(For background and to see what I have done so far on the 30 Little Things project click here. Also follow Home Sweet Sarah's 30 Things, since I got the idea from her)

So I had a bad day.

I sent this email to my friend Rob yesterday, who responded back to me that I should post it on my blog. So that's what I'm doing. I maybe edited it a bit, but not really.

To: Rob H.
From: Penny H.
Date: February 17, 2011
Re: Hi

Well, now 12 hours later, I'm sending you another email! Today was crazy and had a huge air of suckability all over it!

I had to leave from a different train station this morning and it took longer than usual to get there because it was storming like a mother. So as I was parking my train was leaving. On my walk to the station the wind destroyed my umbrella to shreds within 2 seconds of me opening it (I would have laughed at me) and the later train was uber crowded and we all know how much I love crowds. So I had to walk to work, in the wind and rain with no umbrella, was no fun and I got drenched.

As soon as I sit down at my desk I realize that I have a huge hole in the sleeve of my new sweater.

Went next door to get a sandwich at lunch and the hem of my right pant leg came undone and my pants (at regular length) are already too long, so now I have 1.5 inches of extra pant leg dragging in the puddles.

So swamped at work today too.

Luckily: 1. Coworker had a sewing kit in her desk; 2. I can buy a new umbrella; 3. I can laugh at myself; 4. man invented margaritas and I'm about ready to have one; 5. A friend from LA is up for work and I'm going to have dinner with him; 6. Quatro is four in Spanish; 7. The SF Giants are the best baseball team, ever.

How's your day :-)

Falsies Fail

I bought that Falsies Mascara last night, used it this morning and I have to confess: I am super disappointed in it. It doesn’t even match up to my everyday mascara. I don’t buy a lot of makeup but was in the isle buying mascara for my mom and had been curious about this mascara. So I decided to try it.

300% more visible lashes, corner to corner

One coat of the Falsies wasn’t very dark (I did buy the “blackest black” color), although on a plus it didn’t clump. I would have to say that the Falsies mascara did not make my eyelashes stand out or do I feel that they are any more visible than if I was wearing my usual mascara..they do however stand out and are more visible compared to when I have on no mascara. I went on Maybelline's webpage and apparently you have to put on a crap load of coats to get the fake eyelash look. WTF, I have a 2 minute makeup routine in the mornings and applying 50 coats of mascara on my eyelashes does not work for me, nor does it sound appealing. Plus, who wears that many coats of mascara?

Repeat until desired look is achieved.

Huh? No thank you. Plus, I don’t like the feeling of globs of mascara on my eyelashes; they feel weighed down and all I end up doing is picking it off. Even more so, I don’t want to end up looking like I’ve put on so much mascara that I only have 5 clumpy eyelashes...not cute. I guess I was under the impression that one coat or even two would give an impression of longer, thicker eyelashes, which would be great. No Maybelline, I wasn't born with it and it most certainly isn't you.

Thank goodness most places will let you return makeup after trying it because I’m going to stick to my Lancomé mascara and not look like a tranny hooker. If anyone wants this mascara, I will gladly mail it to you, I only used it once.

San Francisco Giants Fan Fest 2011

Autographs; Autographs; Sam getting Bweezy to sign his jersey

I went to my very first Fan Fest this past weekend and it was awesome! Since I've lived in LA the last 8 years I always missed fan fest, so I jumped at the opportunity to go this year. Luckily, thanks to the world’s coolest brother who happens to work for the Giants, we got an early entry pass into the park and were able to get VIP front line access. The day was even better becuase not only was I at one of my favorite places ever, but I got to hang out with Breann and my new buddies Myles and Sam.

Bre and I in line; with Will the Thrill; Bre's Mystery Grab Bag Ball with 7 Giants Autographs (priceless); First ones to get our Mystery Grab Bags

This year Fan Fest was the place to be, people were being turned away. At 11:30am the SF Giants sent out a statement asking people not to show up. We left at 1:00pm and the line was still all the way into the China Basin parking lot.

A progression of the crowd from the start of the day, 11:00am, 1:00pm

Since we got in early, we were first in line at one of the autograph stations, but none of the employees would tell us who was going to be signing at that location. So we waited, quite impatiently, eyeing everyone who walked by. First, Will Clark came into the booth, took pictures with us, shook our hands and was generally a really nice guy. Then, Brian Wilson graced us with his awesomeness. To say we were excited would be a complete understatement. We then ran up to the Clubhouse and waited in line for autographs from Barry Zito, Freddy Sanchez, and the one and only Timmy Lincecum.

Timmy & Freddy; Bweezy; Zito

After that the crowds became insane and we decided to sit behind home plate, have a beer, listen to the interviews at the KNBR stage, enjoy the sunshine and admire our loot. All in all, I got Brian Wilson and Will Clark to sign my shirt, shook Timmy's hand, had Barry Zito give me creepy eyes, got a Bochey Bobblehead, autographed trading cards, walk on the field, hangout in the dugout, discovered the field level bar, made some new friends, and got even more pumped for the 2011 season.

In the dugout, Brian Wilson called us and told us “Let’s get weird!”; Grab Bag Mystery Autographed balls; Enjoying a beer; Just got Wilson-ed!

In my Mystrey Grab Bag I got a set of Giants trading cards. Two of them stuck out as pretty funny: Buster Posey was posing reading a Dr. Seuss book and Freddy Sanchez was eatting cantaloupe. When I handed Freddy his card to sign, he sort of stopped, looked sideways, looked up at me and asked “What am I eating?” Me:“Um, I think it is cantaloupe.” Freddy: “Funny, I don’t remember taking this picture.” Me: giggle giggle, because I’m having a conversation with Freddy Sanchez

Go Giants!!

My argument on how Space Mountain is closely based on a one night stand

Anyone who has gone on Space Mountain (the best roller coaster at Disneyland) knows that this ride is hands down awesome. It is pitch black dark, plays loud rock music, is super fast and feels like you go on a different track each time you ride it. The line for this ride is never under an hour and seems to break down quite often. Even the trek to get to the ride is a bit brutal, but thankfully the pure awesomeness of the ride makes up for it.

Several years ago (ok maybe 14 years ago) a friend of mine introduced a loose idea of a theory that the ride itself is much like having a one night stand or something along those lines. It sounded interesting so I asked him to take me through this theory, on the ride. Go on the ride after reading this, you'll thank me.

Space Mountain: First you wait in a long line to get on the ride. You overhear people talking about how cool it is, check your watch and can't believe how long you've been waiting.
Bar: Most bars/clubs you go to that are cool and worth going to generally have a long line to get in and the same waiting behavior coincides.

Space Mountain: Once you get on the ride, you smile, you know you're in. And hey, look at that, someone cute is sitting next to you
Bar: You feel a sense of accomplishment getting past the big burly bouncer, and you beeline straight to the bar and quickly proceed to order and pound 10 drinks to get caught up on the time you missed. And hey, look at that, there are some cute people in the bar.

Space Mountain: The cart starts to make an uphill climb, red lights flash, you pass through a few smoke screens, loud music plays, your excitement builds and you get ready for the ride...you know something awesome is about to happen.
Bar: You've had a few drinks and you are mingling on the dance floor. Music is blaring, lights are flashing, and smoke machines are going off. Somewhere in the back of your head "Tonight's gonna be a good night" is playing. You lock contact on your target and hone in. There's a "How you doin?" share some drinks, some laughs, some sloppy dancing...you know something amazing is about to happen.

Space Mountain: You get to the top and it slowly starts to head down. It quickly sends you into a mind blowing world of twists and turns, you put your arms up, look over in the darkness at the person next to you, face full of excitement, turn forward and scream.
Bar: You leave the bar; head back to your place, making out the entire time and are just full of excitement. There is no stopping this one way train to pleasure town ("look at that beautiful rainbow, do me on it").

Space Mountain: The cart twists and turns, up and down, going faster and faster, you are screaming, giggling, having the time of your life. It gets faster and faster, snaps your picture...
Bar: (use your imagination)
When we were testing this theory many inappropriate sounds were made on the ride at this stage, you know, to get in the moment.

Space Mountain: The ride suddenly flattens out, and makes a "woosh" sound and a blast of cool air hits your face. You have a huge smile and instinctively look at the person next to you, both of you have hair that is fully messed up and a big smile.
Bar: "wow, that was awesome”

Space Mountain: The ride comes to an end, you awkwardly get out of the seat, quickly fix your hair, exit, and repeat.
Bar: Your night comes to an end, you awkwardly say goodbye, maybe exchange numbers, maybe not, and exit. Chances are you will repeat.

30 Little Things: 2: 15 Facts About Me

Not that you want to know 15 boring things about me, I tried to choose unique and somewhat quirky things that I do (some of which, I've been told, drive other people up the wall). So enjoy, and hey, maybe you should tell me something about you.

1. When I deposit mail in the big blue mailboxes I always close the slot then open it again and look to make sure the mail went into the box properly.

2. I think Valentines Day is a ridiculous day/holiday that was created by the Hallmark, Sees Candy and FTD Flower Company's. Plus, there are 364 perfectly good days to do the same cheesy thing without feeling obligated to do it. Don't get me wrong though, if someone shows up with pizza, wine and any of the following: Tiffany, Coach and/or Diamonds; I would be a fool to say no.

3. If I ever have to sit in the backseat of a car, I'll only sit on the passenger side, never behind the driver. I will make people move sides.

4. I have no issues with drinking a bottle of wine in one night. One for me.

5. I back-in to parking spots when able to.

6. I am the worlds biggest klutz. Here are some of the more "memorable" occurrences from the past 4 years: given myself a black-eye with a freezer door; a mild concussion by hitting my head on the refrigerator; fallen out of my car...sober; tore a ligament in my foot walking; trip at least once a day; consistently have 3 or more bruises at any given time; nicknamed Grace; fallen off the treadmill because I was looking at a cute guy walking by and forgot I was running on it.

7. I refuse to eat lima beans and cauliflower. When I was a kid I read a book called Bunnicula (about a vegetarian vampire rabbit who would suck all the juice out of the vegetables in the fridge and turn them white) and ever since I won't eat white vegetables. And I think Lima beans are just plain gross.

8. I had a pet potbelly pig who was a house-pet. Her name was Petunia and she was the best.

9. I hate slow drivers, the Prius (sorry friends who drive one, I just don't like the car) and have a lead foot. Yes Tom Cruise, I have the need for speed.

10. Traveling gives me the worst anxiety. I love to travel but something about it freaks me out. I once went to Puerto Rico and had anxiety attacks for a whole week prior to leaving. Once I get to my destination I'm totally fine, its just getting there that makes me act like a crazy person.

11. I have cold weather turrets. Meaning when I enter cold weather, very unlady like language starts spewing from my mouth and I sound like a common salior, repeatedly. I'm much more of a beach person. I used to tell people that I was allergic to crystalized forms of water and temperatures below 30.

12. I am terrified of snakes, I can't even look at a picture of one. I get the hebegebees just thinking about them. Even right now. Yuck.

13. I hate walnuts and think it is disgusting when people add any kind of nuts to baked goods (brownies, fudge, cookies, cakes, pancakes, etc.) except for peanuts and only in a select few items like snickers or peanut butter cookies or rocky road fudge.

14. I make my bed every morning (even if my room is a trash hole). It keeps your sheets at the perfect temperature when getting back into bed later. If the house is cold, the sheets won't be as cold. And it makes the room look nice. And easier to pile things on top of the bed.

15. I can't watch any of the following: scary movies; bloody-gory movies; movies with constant gunfire; movies with Justin Beiber; zombie movies; and movies/shows about snakes. I'll have terrible nightmares and won't sleep for days. Commercials for scary movies even creep me out. My ex used to say that "If it doesn't play "It's a Small World" in it, she won't like it." Yes, I am a sucker for all things Disney (hey look, that technically is 16 things...I'm such an over achiever).

(For background and to see what I have done so far on the 30 Little Things project click here. Also follow Home Sweet Sarah's 30 Things, since I got the idea from her)

30 Little Things: 1: A photo from my childhood

I know it said one, but I decided to give you 4. I think these pictures are funny because they still represent who I am today: mischievous, bratty, a princess, and can still have quite a phone conversation (minus the Raiders jacket...still mad at my parents for that fashion flaw).

And yes, that is a cast on my head. When I was a wee one, my ears looked like Alfalfa’s and it caused really bad ear infections. So the doctors did something and another thing to push my ears back and I can home looking like that.

The “you’re a complete brat” picture could only rival that video from Christmas with the kid saying that books aren’t presents. Apparently I felt that way about board games, or I was giving my father a “don’t take my picture” face. It’s still up for debate.

(For background and to see what I have done so far on the 30 Little Things project click here. Also follow Home Sweet Sarah's 30 Things, since I got the idea from her)

30 Little Things (a Bandwagon Project)

Being new to this whole blogging thing and needing some fun ideas to write about, I really liked this blog idea that my twitter friend homesweetsarah posted and I decided to jump on her bandwagon, which was also a bandwagon she jumped on, and tackle these 30 prompts.

Now it would be a remarkable feat for me to knock one out a day for 30 days, but let’s face the facts: I have park people watching, train adventures, reality televison and dating to tend to as well, so who knows how long it will take. Plus, if I have a “deadline” I will be more inclined to procrastinate until 1 week before said deadline and then inundate everyone with 30 mindless and quickly drafted posts.

If anyone has an idea for #30, send it my way! So for your forthcoming enjoyment, here are the prompts, to be posted in any order of my choosing:

1.Your work space
2.The best part of your day
3.Something you refuse to do
4.Last book you read
5.Meaning behind your blog name
6.Talent you wish you had
7.A photo of you without makeup
8.Last item you purchased
9.Something that makes you sad
10.15 facts about you
11.Your favorite thing right now
12.Best Christmas present you ever got
13.Your favorite teacher
14.Something you’re thankful for
15.A photo from your childhood
16.Something you crave
17.Your worst hair moment
18.Favorite smells
19.Last time you cried
20.Last time you had to apologize to someone
21.Something that scares you
22.Something that really bugs you
23.What you dislike most about your appearance
24.Celebrity crush
25.A trait you deplore in others
26.A photo taken 10 years ago
27.First book/movie/song that moved you
28.What turns you off
29.The story behind one of your scars
30.This one was left blank, so how about you pick it...

Don't Taze Me Bro!

It only took 1.5 months of riding Bart daily to finally have my very own "I saw some shit go down" story. I mean, I did ride Bart home from San Francisco after Halloween, to and from the Championship parade, and still didn't have any good stories. The closest recently, besides the usual crazies, would be that I saw a guy puke in a paper bag after game 2 when the Giants lost to the Braves, but even that barely made the twitter feed. Tonight however, shit went down.

So setting the stage: Since I am a creature of habit (may or may not be slightly OCD, jury is still out on that one) I went to my normal spot on the platform, which happens to be the first door on the first train. After some research, this is the least crowded entrance and least crowded train car, so I can always get a seat and I'm used to it. But that's another story. Luckily, thanks to this OCD, I got a front row seat to the action.

Anyways, I'm standing in line, surprisingly not glued to my phone (underground, no reception) and as usual the SF bound train pulls up (not my train), the train doors open and two middle aged guys dash out of the train and run up to the conductor, shouting and arguing with each other and then yelling at the conductor (for explanatory reasons let's call the short normal looking one “Shorty” and the tall crazy one "Dodger"). This goes on for a minute, and not many people are paying attention to the commotion. After a bit, Shorty yells something at both Dodger and the conductor and storms off up the stairs. The train has now been sitting there for a few minutes, and few announcements come on saying the train will be sitting there for a few more minutes and that people should exit the train and go upstairs to catch the next SF bound train. So the train empties out and Dodger starts wondering in and out of a few cars, talking to himself, and then makes his way back up to the conductor. When Dodger talks to the conductor, he sticks his head fully inside the window and yells, loudly, using hand gestures and overly dramatic body language. I can’t really make out anything he is saying but clearly he is crazy.

Then from out of nowhere, 4 Bart cops come running down the platform, tasers drawn, yelling at people to move out of the way, aiming their tasers at Dodger, yelling at him to get on the ground. I am going to pause here for a second because as soon as people saw Bart police with tasers drawn, tension on the platform rose exponentially and EVERYONE was crowded around and had video mode set on their phones. Added to this was, this was happening at an Oakland Bart Station, so people were likely more sensitive to this kind of situation and had Oscar Grant or Johannes Mehserle flash into their heads, causing a heightened sense of excitement/worry.

So, Dodger is on the ground, spread eagle, and Cop #1 quickly removes a large weapon from Dodgers pants and tosses it to Cop #2, they handcuff him, and Dodger is yelling “I didn’t do anything…” whatever, you had a weapon, we’re not in Texas (ok, well Oakland, but still), and they whisk him away through one of those secret doors and that’s the end of Dodger.

Who knows what he did, but he caused a 20 minute delay on a Friday night. I mean, I could have had important plans or something, but I still saw some shit go down. Ok, not really exciting, but just edgy enough I guess.

Tales From The Park - Part Uno

I work across the street from Snow Park in Oakland, and since the weather has been pleasant, this 4.2 acre park has been getting a lot of action, thus providing me with hours of entertainment. If people watching was a profession I would be at the top of my game. Added Bonus: It’s in Oakland.

As an introduction to the Tales From the Park, here is a brief overview of the daily cast of characters:

The Boot-Camp: I’ve come to think of the boot camp as a “Chuck Norris Air Punch/Round House Kick Training” meets “D-Quans Dance Moves” workout. The two instructors set up a table and cones every morning and afternoon and sometimes 1 or 2 people will show up to run around, punch the air, kick some mat and look like a complete jackass (I’m not knocking the workout, I would just rather look like a jackass indoors and not while I’m being watched by office buildings full of people). There are, unfortunately, a lot of days these guys will set up and no one comes to workout.

The Private School Kids (I think you have to be Asian to attend): This office has come to the conclusion that the workout regiment the school has these kids on is “Guantanamo Bay Training.” The school is about 10 blocks away from the park and apparently does not have a playground, although, judging by their PE routine, I don’t think the school promotes “play” or “fun” time. First, the kids will run around the park 3 or 4 times with their hands on top of their heads (yes, like prisoner of war style), then they do pushup/situps/etc. and at no point in time do any of them look like they are having fun. They never play kickball or any other kind or organized team game (like the fun Charter School kids) and they are always so militant looking in their uniforms. I would imagine that this “PE” would be more of a punishment than a reward.

The Random Assortment of Homeless Guys: This bunch provides me with the most entertainment because you never know what they are going to do. From puking in the garbage can to peeing on a tree, these guys sure keep you on your toes. Often, when I look out of the window and I see one in the midst of some random homeless person act, I am either quickly repulsed or brought to laughter.

Shady Drug Dealers: Yesterday one was wearing a top hat, an army jacket, holding a briefcase, standing under a tree, staring at his cell phone. Yes, he was shady and yes, he was probably making a deal. I am just reporting the facts.

Puffy Yellow Jacket Golfer Guy: His name is pretty self-explanatory. The park has a “mini-green” and he chips daily, in the same outfit.

The obnoxious dog owners who let their dogs run around without a leash: No, it’s not also a dog park, I checked. And I would like to send a special thank you out to the dog who ate my sandwich and the owner who did nothing about it.

"Tuna Jerky" and the Lesson Learned at Costco

If the sample people at Costco ever hand you a sample in a zip-lock baggie, don’t eat it! This is how I know:
It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that my ability to pay attention rivals that of a midgets ability to slam dunk a basketball, and when I have my phone in hand, my attention span to anything other than my phone is about .00001%. So this "incident" comes as no surprise to myself or anyone who has spent 5 minutes in the presence of me and my crackberry.
My parents love going to Costco, and rightfully so, I love going to Costco with them. Especially at sample lunch time or during the "poor-man’s buffet" as my sister refers to it (and that is just brilliant). I will confess that I am a little piggy, going to ALL the sample stations to taste-test everything, sometimes twice. This particular weekend day was right before Christmas and it felt like they had tripled the number of sampling stations, and this little piggy was in heaven. BUT I was also preoccupied in twittering very important facts like how I had just seen Santa shopping and finding that my favorite pinot grigio was now being distributed there, uploading pictures of Santa to my Facebook, and text messaging some guy I probably don’t even talk to anymore. All of this was far more important than paying the slightest bit of attention to the international assortment of deliciousness I was sampling.
Next to the spring roll samples and across the isle from the Lay’s chip samples, I came across a station and I briefly glanced at the "Tuna Jerky" sign. Ok, sounds interesting enough, I’ll try it. The sample was in a zip-lock baggie, but did this slow down the weekend warrior of food sampling? Of course not. I did think for a moment "well, maybe it smells bad and that is why they put it in the baggie..." (On a side note, I have learned that I will eat just about anything, even if I think it smells so bad that it needs to be quarantined to a baggie during sample time.) I am still in crackberry lalaland, so I am not listening to the sample lady’s spiel about what I just picked up and quickly open the bag and start "trying" this "tuna jerky." It is so tough that I can not even take a bite out of it. I gnaw on it for maybe 10 seconds before I give up, think "who would ever want to eat this? It is impossible to eat!" and return the sample to the baggie. As I am throwing the jerky away I overhear the sample lady say "bring home your doggie a tasty treat!" Yep. I tried it. Then I thought, heck, I need to get one to give to my dog, and as I am taking my second helping, the sample lady looks right at me, points her finger and says "these are for dogs only!" Yeah, thanks lady, I already figured that one out.
On another side note, why is Costco sampling dog food treats right next to the chip samples and the spring roll samples? Someone should look into this.

Fishing, Matching, Harmony....fail

At the insistence of my good friend Ashley, I decided to give this online thing dating a try. And although through it, you could get a date every night if you put in the effort, I am looking for quality, not quantity. I think (and it has been confirmed) that guys use online dating as a means of getting laid just by buying you a drink. I went on a date with a guy who told me that he was on the site because he heard the girls were easy (red flag). I have had zero luck (I recently tried Match and Plenty of Fish) and feel that this medium of meeting guys could be worse than meeting a guy in a bar. Most of these sites take a lot of time and effort. I did meet a guy almost 5 years ago on eharmony and we even lived together, but I think that was before the lazy man entered the scene. At least I will have some good stories to tell.

And now for my Top 10 ways to not get a date with me online.

1. Lie about your age and post pictures that are 15 years old: If we do eventually meet, I will find out what you really do look like, that you are 10 years older and 5 inches shorter than what you said on your profile. I won't overlook the false impression or blatant lie because I think you have a “great personality.” No, you tried to dupe me and that won’t save you.

2. Online catcall. It doesn’t work in person so what makes you think it will work online? I don’t think I’ve ever heard one of my girl friends say that the way she met her current boyfriend was that he yelled “hey, your hot!” as she walked by and after hearing that she knew he was the one.

3. Check "yes" in the "do you do drugs" box. That is great that you are being honest and all, and thank you for that, you saved me the hassle of meeting you and then finding out further on down the road, but it doesn't quite fit into my "lifestyle."

4. Tell someone who has made the statement “I love baseball and beer” that you hate baseball and beer, I mean why even bother. Clearly we don’t have a lot in common so why even bother telling me? I will call you unamerican and a communist and then make fun of you for being lame, just not to your online face, but in my head.

5. If you're “married but looking for a relationship” then maybe you should be online looking for a divorce attorney rather than a date. Get your issues in order.

6. Use proper grammer and not stupid spellings. You have to make a good first impression and if we are on the fence with your far away picture showing that you are well traveled, give me something to read that may actually make me think that you aren't so bad. Don’t send me this:

"Hay how are u doing ?I just happened to be browsing on through profilez when I came upon yurz and I liked it very much and u are one very beautiful woman so if u are down to actually being friendz and kick it and call each other off of here with a real man not no A hole or bad boi plz write me back A.S.A.P"

Also, the cut and paste email that shows me you didn't read my profile at all and is so generic that I can tell that you clearly have emailed it to every girl's profile that you've clicked on and you will not get an email back. On the basis that you are lame. And not cute. And short.

7. If we do set a date, be assured that I'm going to be 10 minutes late. Why? I just am, I don't need a reason. You, however, should be on time and not make me wait 30 minutes for you at a crowded bar, looking like an idiot. Heck, I just may talk to that cute guy at the other end of the bar.

8. Post good pictures. Not pictures of you holding guns, looking completely wasted, or posing next to any of the following: hot girls with big boobs, dead animals that you killed (excluding fish), a mobile home or trailer park, or 18 drinks. Also, that's cool that you've been to the Eifel tower and that you got a picture of it, but how can we see what you look like when you are ant sized? Really, who is anyone kidding, it is all about what you look like!

9. Read my profile because I will read yours. I spent time to write that stuff and it tells you about me, so if you think I'm cute and you want to write to me, just read it. If I post a picture with the World Series trophy and I say in my profile “I got to go to the family night and take a picture with the world series trophy” don’t ask me “hey, how’d you get a picture with the trophy?” duh.

10. Don’t tell me to bring a bathing suit on our date so we can take a bubble bath and no, I will not go to your apartment so you can cook me dinner on our second date. Although the thought may be nice, I have standards. I am not easy and I will not sleep with you on our first, second or third date.

And this just tops the cake:

“I'd lasso the moon and pull it down for you... But you already have the World Series trophy! How in the hell did you get a picture with it?

Marry me? ; p”

Cal Game Fun?

After it hailed on us during the 4th quarter (notice all the rain gear) and watched Cal lose in the final seconds, we gathered around for a nice family photo for my Dad's 63rd birthday (minus Paigelee).