4/24/05 Tuscany: Day 3

Destination for today was Siena.
First stop in the old city was San Domenico church of St. Catherine. Big old thing, with neat paintings and all, but the real draw was probably the relic- St. Catherine’s face. Supposedly undecayed, and on display. She looks good for a woman of her age, but her face seems very small. This is what you have to love about Catholicism.







And the onward into the city. If San Gimignano was the perfect medieval village, Siena is the perfect medieval city. And now a lot of shops have moved in… Benetton, lingerie shops, expensive tacky eye-talian fashion boutiques… Little piazzas here and there and the Il Campo, which is really impressive. Described over and over as shell-shaped, with the plaza in the middle full of people, family and friends, dogs, children, lovers,… It’s a really wonderful civic space, lined with cafes and bars on one side (the curved edge, and bars doesn’t mean bars like it does in the USA. Bars in Italy are sort of a step down from a restaurant or café), facing the imposing Palazzo Pubblico and Torre del Mangia on the other. We stopped and had lunch, then went to the tourist office where we were told that the steam train "nature train" was booked. So we went over to the Duomo. From where we’d parked, we could see the Duomo standing out in contrast to the red-brown medieval skyline. Its black and white marble striped shape seemed so out of place and commanding.

We skipped the museums because we were enjoying the city itself so much (and we’ll spend plenty of time looking at paintings in museums over the next two weeks) and wandered over to the line to enter the church. Almost didn’t, but thought, "hell, when will we be here again?" and lined up. Even waiting in line was nice because the façade of the church is so detailed. But really it can’t prepare you for what is inside. Words can’t describe the effect of the interior, but to begin with, the floor was one of the most beautiful works I’ve ever seen. Scenes and figures on the floor showed great detail, movement, depth, color, and emotion. And were made in marble! The detail was incredible. There were a few statues from Michelangelo, apparently, but those paled in comparison to Mary by Bernini. A library covered in brilliant frescoes housed illuminated manuscripts which were at eye level and six inches away for once (unlike in Dublin!) and the Three Muses stood in the center, soft and supple. In this church, like others we’d seen, hung on the wall silver hearts and things that looked like medals. But in this church, one wall that was covered with such medals also displayed a couple of pairs of baby shoes and a dozen or so motorcycle helmets (including old shorties and one modern dirt helmet!)

Back to the Campo for gelato and to write on the postcards we’d purchased at the Duomo. Then walked up to the Basilica de Provenzano, where a bust of Mary hangs which is some sort of miracle or something. It was a smallish church with a priest praying in the front pew so we didn’t venture too far in. Up the hill to the convent San Francesco, with much construction going on in the courtyard. The church was massive and dark, bare in the main chamber with huge paintings displayed hung away from the walls. This church houses the miraculous Sacred Host, (see: Eucharistic Miracle of Siena)"which have never decayed, but remain the same after three centuries." There’s a special chapel for these, which are in a fancy little reliquary-thingy. There are 200-some-odd host in the container. For whatever reason, this chapel was FULL of praying people. Alright, dead saints’ undecayed heads? Neat. Wafers wot ain’t gone green? That’s just crap. I do not remember anything about Christ asking anyone to worship wafers. And anyway I can get plastic food at Denny’s. This reeked of idolatry and misplaced religiosity to me. And it was dark in there, and I had to pee. So out of the convent church we went after glossing over the second half. Because we’d have to hike through the hordes of tourists all the way down to Il Campo, where there’s a for-real toilet that I KNEW wouldn’t be just one of those squatty affairs. Except, I had to stop long enough to snap a picture of an Aprilia dirtbike.



And then out of Siena, and back into our freezing cold apartment. The "scenic route" because we got a little lost and I insist on charging ahead on the backroads instead of backtracking. It worked, sort of, and we finally found our way back to San Gimignano for a delightful dinner, and then to our apartment. Tomorrow we plan to blow through Pisa just long enough to see the leaning tower (my mother’s request) and then to Lucca for our last day in the Tuscany countryside.

4/23/05 Tuscany: Day 2

(views from the apartment in Tuscany)







Today, woke up WAY late. Had a lot of weird dreams last night. So it was after noon when we finally left. Ooops. The host was downstairs doing something with fire in the small building about 30 feet from the house, so we stopped in to ask. He was baking bread, in a wood-fired stove. Wow. He told us "the modern life not good for me," that the way modern bread is made didn’t mesh with his way. He uses stone-ground wheat, bakes it like this… this place is so cool. Except, I was awoken by some very loquacious roosters. That hardly ever happens to me in San Francisco.












Destination for the day was San Gimignano. My pronunciation is bad, but my mother has take to saying to San Chimichanga. We learned a very little Italian, but it seems absolutely useless. People just stare wide-eyed at the simplest utterance. So we’ve abandoned that.































I must say, San Gimignano is one of the most breathtaking places I ever been. The city itself, when you try to ignore all the tourists, is very intimate and charming, Lots of little spaces and small walks, creating a break from the crowds. Sometimes a completely dark passage will dump you out a stone’s throw from the piazza, twisted little roads lead you to medieval structures and little gardens.










We meandered around the city all day. First the Museum of Mediaeval Torture, which was odd. Many of the artifacts were from a private collection, and the writing which accompanied them was a little creepy. Then lunch in the piazza at a place with a beautiful dessert menu. Gelato made to look like sculpture, but we didn’t have any. Then wrote postcards o the steps of the Duomo (really the Collegietta now) and wandered some more. My mother got to experience the joys of a water closet (no toilet, just a ceramic flushable hole in the ground) and then we went to the Civic Museum. Frescoes and the beautiful woodwork in the town hall, then I decided to take a hike up the tower. I didn’t know it, but apparently I’m afraid of heights, and got what I assume was vertigo, just about 1 flight of stairs up. Pressed on, slowly, and finally climbed the ladder to the top. Up here, you can look down on the city and see some of the hidden parts, like the modern sports park and school. Also, the bell, and the birds. Built in 1311, 54 meters in height, the stairs are worth it, but still a little scary. Going down was worse since there wasn’t a rail on that side.



Time for a "world famous" gelato, then more wandering, and came upon the Church of San Augustino. Which was stunning. Beautiful frescoes behind the altar. (you have to put euros into a slot to turn the lights on) and some wonderful tile work in the back of the church. I have a suspicion that the entire church used to be frescoed, because there are some disembodied hands and halves of saints in some of the framed frescoes on the lengthwise walls. But who knows. The adjacent cloister garden was very tranquil. More wandering out through medieval walkways, and we found the Spezzioria and Museo Arceologico which were probably closed, but definitely up too many stairs for my mother, and then pressed on to find the Medieval Fountain, which was off the beaten path and not very dramatic. The lower structure had a modern mosaic on the back wall. The upper structure had one end with water cycling out to a little "waterfall" (pretty pathetic and smelly waterfall) below, and there were tons of little fish living in it, about 3" long. Next to that pool, in the other room, the water was standing, and nothing lived but a smell.



















More wandering, and the city was emptying. I decided we ought to sit and eat at the Piazza del Duomo while it got dark, and that was lovely. The changing light and the dwindling crowds transformed the city. But it was cold, and we slowly made our way to the Exit.

4/22/05 Tuscany: Day 1

4/22/05
This morning (yesterday morning) started at 5am with my mother waking me. By 7am we were at the San Jose airport, and by 2:45 local time, Chicago O’Hare. Everything was smooth until our changeover in Chicago, and it all went downhill from there. The flight to Rome was delayed. We finally departed at 4:50. I’d told my mother several weeks ago that there was no way we would get to Pisa to pick up our car at 2pm, but she insisted that we could. We were lucky to have a smallish international flight with just us sitting in one section, aisle and window. (When I was a teenager, and went to Ireland, I was stuck in one of the middle sections, with like 6 seats across. Ugh.) Tylenol PM knocked me out. Arrived around 9am in Rome, with a few vague ideas, and some clear ones:
1.) Get to Pisa
2.) Pick up our rental car
3.) Check into our apartment

Seems simple enough, but we didn’t’ really know how to get to Pisa, and neither of us had really learned enough Italian to communicate even simple needs. Managed to get a fairly helpful ticket agent to tell us where to go, and sell us our tickets for all of our Italy train trips. First, you take the train into Rome (Ostiense, in this case). Then, you get a train to Pisa at 11:57. Easy. Except, we were on the specified platform for our train to Pisa when suddenly the they changed the overhead sign from Torina to Civitavecchia. And our train doesn’t show. We asked the closest person, he said our train was ritardi (late). And would be through at 11:35. OK. It will be 40 minutes late, fine. We waited. The sign turned back to the destination we wanted (Pisa is in the way to Torino) and at about 11:35, a train came through, so we got on it. The train stopped every-fucking-where and looked more like a commuter train than a distance train. And, uhhh, at Civitavecchia I see from the sign at the platform that it’s now going to return to Rome. Beautiful. So we got off and asked the station agent. "Platform 2." So we went. And trains came and went. "No, it can’t be this one…" and so on. Then, one looked right, so we got on and shortly, the two empty seats next to us were filled with a little girl (Marta, about 11y/o) and a rotating cast of her family. My mother made conversation with her, which she really enjoyed. We met her little brother, Orlando, mother Ellen, and friend Julia. She showed us her school textbooks and her little brother spazzed out a lot and talked way too enthusiastically. It was really neat. Her mother enlisted other passengers’ help to try to help us figure out where to go to get our rental car in Pisa. Really nice people.

Finally in Pisa, back and forth to the tourist office to check the location, and then on a bus to the Pisa airport, which seems more like a shopping mall than anything, but whatever. Crowded, annoying, Italian servicemen everywhere shipping out, loading their bags on carts to push around (ain’t they ‘posed to be able to carry that stuff?) Got the paper, went to get the car. The shuttle to the lot where the car was would only take the driver, so I waited alone with the luggage. And waited. And waited. When the shuttle driver returned for the second time after dropping off other drivers, with my mother in tow (At least she wasn’t lost in Italy somewhere) it seemed the car wouldn’t start. Finally, the mechanic brought it around and showed my mother that there’s a special trick (involving a red light and a special button on the key fob)to start the dang thing. We’d had enough, with late planes, wrong trains, dehydration, and no sleep.

My mother was not born to drive. She can do OK in California I suppose, but the Italians DRIVE. Active, not passive, like Americans. Tailgating is normal. They drive fast in curvy small roads without a thought. My mom normally has a lead foot, but the damn rental beeps and tells you "eccesive speed, slow down" on a little LED screen when you go over 90km/hour. Which is pretty slow. We got passed by Volkswagens, RV’s, and even SCOOTERS. Ugh.
Got turned around a few times, but finally found our place before sunset. And damn, is it nice. Cold as shit, but incredibly scenic and just perfect. Apartment upstairs in Tuscany with a view of the walled medieval town San Gimignano out the window. Downstairs is a farm with cats and chickens in the yard. There’s a woodburning stove, library of books, games, and tourist info, kitchen, wine, and, get this, they baked us a PIE. When was the last time a stranger baked you a PIE????

This week's horoscope

<>Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
Although you've always worried about dying alone and unloved, you can put your mind at ease: A tragic mix-up at the pheromone lab will lead to your being loved to death by nine separate species.

Eye-talian

<>I'm leaving Thursday for a two and a half week trip to Italy with my mom.
We'll be landing in Rome, taking the train to Pisa, renting a car, and driving to a farmhouse near Siena where we'll stay for four days. Then driving to Venice, ditching the car, and staying in a dumpy hotel in Venice for four days. Then taking the train to Florence to stay at a B&B for three days before taking the train to Rome where we have an apartment in Travestere for four days. Then home.

My mom wanted to see Italy and figured I should be her guide since I went to art school. Nevermind it's been years since I read that stuff. I really need to brush up on my art history to pull my own weight.

Anyway. Think of me often and I'll see you in May. (Well, probably not, since I'll be going to China shortly after I return)

Seattle trip

<>So I took April 7th and 8th off and we all went to Seattle for my brother’s wedding. Paul came with me, as he is a saint, and had heard tales of fried cheese.

It’s sort of a bittersweet time, since my sister is having troubles and holding it all together while my brother is just embarking on his journey into marriage. I love my sister dearly and hope for the best.

Ben made some good decisions and good luck, and found a neat girl. They will do great stuff together. But I wish it were closer.


So, arrived in Seattle, checked into the house that my mom rented for us. It was a nice little craftsman-esque place with a lot of flowers and such. We ate and ate and ate and drank lots of wine all weekend.
Highlights:
Thursday:
Dilettante chocolate for cake
Bleu Bistro for frou-frou drinks and wasabi grilled cheese
Asteroid Café for the big dinner (really really yummy)

Friday:
Seattle Underground Tour. I’d never been before, it was fun. My grandmother made dirty jokes.
Wedding rehearsal. Paul stood in since Jeff did not come to Seattle.
Party at Megan’s folks’ house: nice neighborhood, absolutely STUNNING view.
Party at Ben and Megan’s house. We heard geese in the distance, Jennifer was scared. We got fairly tossed.

Saturday:
Fried cheese and other yumminess at Byzantion on Capitol Hill.
Wedding, at a neat chapel on the campus.
Wedding reception. On a docked antique ferry boat. They had cupcakes for a wedding cake. It was a neat idea, but none of them had sprinkles. There was a goose on the boat, my sister was very scared. We got tossed again, and then went home. My sister was drunk and hiccupping and other stuff. Hilarious.

Sunday:
Breakfast, totally out of hand. My family is insane. Mimosas eased the pain. (actually, it isn’t painful to be around my family, just very noisy.)
Alaska Airlines sucked, both to and from Seattle. I’m just amazed that we made it home. Getting our bags was a big bonus as well.

this week's horoscope:

<>Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
Three extremely important events will mark your last days on earth: First, you find out you can buy uranium over the Internet. The second and third pretty much follow as the night follows the day.

Everything I know about history and literature, I learned here:

<>Actually, this quiz is totally lame, but I'll take any excuse to put Iron Maiden here.


You're Iron Maiden! Developing from punk roots, and
now with Bruce Dickenson back on ship, you're
still the leading British Heavy Metal band.
Form has greatly slipped as of late, however,
even your new three guitar onslaught with the
returning Adrian Smith just isn't as impressive
as it used to be. \m/ rating of 7


Which Legendary Heavy Metal Band Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Friends aren't just for dogs anymore

<>A few days ago, I wrote a little bulletin about stupid people on Myspace. Specifically, about people acquiring "friends" and then commenting on them without even taking a cursory glance past the main photo. (In that case, it was a guy selling car stuff getting hit on by guys who were just looking at the main photo of a model, despite the very clear profile description everywhere else)

John responded by forwarding me a message some knucklehead sent to HIS DOG. Something about how great/hot/whatever she was, and how happy he was that she was still has friend, and would love to take pictures of her sometime. (this guy is a "glamour" photographer, or whatever. What he wants with rat-sized dog, I do not even want to imagine. Wait, on second thought, my imagination of it is pretty funny.)

Last night he offered to be my friend, ostensibly because he perused my profile, read my thought-provoking essays, and believes we share interests, and possibly could have witty repartee?

Generally, I’d just say “deny,” but John’s dog made me want to experience the stupidity for myself. If this guy will try to sell a photo shoot to a Chihuahua, I must know what’s in store for me! Michael Vincent Photography, sign me up!





Comments:
John Foley (ape)

Man, you couldn't have written this without blasting Dugans? That was cold. The Chinese have shredded what was left of your soul.

Posted by John Foley on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 8:12 AM




Rebecca: Where did I blast Dugans?

I mean, unless you're seriously going to let her sign up for those slutty pics. C'mon, step in and be a parent for once. NO SLUTTY PHOTOS. Or you're grounded.

Posted by Rebecca on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 8:13 AM




dugans fife

i think i look good naked.

Posted by dugans fife on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 10:25 AM




Rebecca: Apparently, so does Michael Vincent
Posted by Rebecca on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 10:25 AM

Easter Morning

<>I’d like to say we went to Mt. Tam and watched the sun rise, but really it was more like we got there, as the sun rose, and didn’t feel like hiking to the real vantage-point.

It’s my fault really. After 4 hours of not-really-sleeping, we woke up at 3 and I proceeded to pump myself (and my bag and raingear, when my thermos barfed) full of coffee.

Met with the SFMC folks and I drank a little more coffee. There’s my mistake. When I realized that I ought to have gone to the bathroom before I left, I could only think that it would take me twenty minutes, with all the gear I was wearing. Ugh. So we just hop on bikes and start through the City. This is one of the best parts of the ride, because, really, there’s not a lot of traffic at 4 in the morning on a Sunday. But there are a lot of hills. A few years ago people thought my dirtbike lust was odd, but now it just looks like one of the pack. A big pack. A pack taking the hillcrest at every block as a wheelie or jump. (not me, of course) Wheeee!

On to the bridge, into Marin, off the freeway, stop at the gas station. I really had to pee, and last year we spent quite a while at the gas station before heading up the hill. So, yeah, I was in the bushes when the group I came with headed out. And so the sky was beginning to show light before we approached the top. We were going slow, but I’m not so interested in passing on a ride like this. With all those riders, it could easily become a clusterfuck, and to what end? It’s quite beautiful, the darkness with a line of red lights twisting up through the hills.

So, yeah, by the time we got there the sun was already coming up. Just a few minutes of darkness, and then the people around us came into focus. Drank some coffee, talked some smack, and looked out over the fog and hills and cities below. This view is stunning, sunrise or no.

Two crashes that I know of coming up the hill, and probably more on the way down. We made our way down around 7am I think, and back into the City to the SFMC where we’d been invited to their pancake breakfast. After a few minutes there we decided to leave, because the last thing I need is to spend my day reeking of cigarettes. I do not understand why someone would want to smoke at 7am before breakfast. So icky. Breakfast at Bugaloo’s was OK.

Spent a few hours at my house, working on my dress (for my brother’s wedding next week) while Paul napped peacefully on the couch. Then to San Jose to see my family for Easter. My raingear was coffee-soaked, so I left it. Which was really dumb. The ride home Sunday evening ranged from sprinkling to pouring. And windy. Everyone’s favorite combination.

Sunday morning I spoke with a new SV owner, who ACTUALLY ADMITTED THE SV’s SUCKINESS. Incredible. I feel like everyone who buys one of these things is in intense denial. “It’s not that bad” seems to be a common sentiment. (imagine if people described their marriages that way) Well, if just saying that over and over makes it true, please explain why I see SO many SV’s with crash scars. Seriously, take a count. Matt had pretty much the same experience as me. “Great little engine, horrible handling.” He also freely admitted the whole headshake thing in corners and over bumps. This little headshake made me stack hard last year, and I’d at least like to know that people are experiencing this problem and making solutions. I know everyone likes to be in love with their bike, particularly one they just bought. I honestly wouldn’t have guessed that I could *not* be in love with my motorcycle, but here it is, and admitting the problem is the first step to a solution, eh? Something I need to deal with, AFTER China. Or at least after Italy.






Comments:
Charles: i'm sick of hearing your whining. SV. Set a price, I will sell it for you. You have already psyched yourself into a dislike of it, the only answer is to sell it. Sell it now. Stop whining, unload it. Get another bike.

Just like Jack and his XR. After his crash, he does not like it. Same Ting, sell it. Replace it with something else

Posted by Charles on Tuesday, March 29, 2005 at 11:40 AM




Rebecca: After you sell the girlfriend you keep whining about.
Posted by Rebecca on Tuesday, March 29, 2005 at 11:41 AM

Culture of Life and Death

<>You can’t really believe this isn’t a political issue.
I mean, it shouldn’t be. But it is. It’s been turned into one, and that’s why you’re hearing about it.
I’m appalled that it’s being billed as a right-to-life issue. Does any one of those people really believe that they would want that for themselves? This has nothing to do with a so-called “culture of life.” It’s about an issue some people thought would polarize us more, and bring more conservatives on board. And maybe it did, but I don’t think it’s coming out the way they wanted. Turns out, the vast majority think Schiavo should be let go. Including Republicans and Democrats, church-goers or not.

I’m lucky that my parents already know not to keep me on that kind of life support like that. We’ve had a lot of talks, and even some things in writing, some hard decisions made, who will be in charge, make decisions for you? Funnily, most of us chose my sister for that task. I don’t even understand all the terms and variations of life-support and states of life and consciousness. Who cares? Technology will change those rules. The important thing is the quality of life.

I can’t say I was lucky exactly, but maybe in a way, that I learned a lot about dying from my aunt a couple of years ago. It was around this time (March 29th, 2003) that she finally passed away. Carol had been an activist for cancer and death and dying issues for years; when it came for her, it seemed a little too suitable. She knew the stages and all the things the doctors should have had to tell her. She would only allow laughing in her hospital room. She had my grandparents bring her peanut butter and vegetables that the nurses would keep for her. There wasn’t talk about when she was going to get better, all the things we’d do. Why lie?

Later, she was released from the hospital and sent home to my grandparents’ house. Why stay in the hospital? Just so the nurses are there to drag your life as long as possible? She was moved into the ground floor bedroom and spent the last several weeks there. Getting around a bit, running out of breath all the time. Her lungs were failing her at the same time that the ovarian cancer attacked her. One night an ambulance was called to revive her. She made her sisters promise never to do that again. Ambulances and hospitals are harsh things. Even the gentlest nurse or the coziest hospital bed, it’s not your family and home. It’s not restful. It’s not where you want to live or die. Mary was chosen to be Carol’s decision maker and guardian. She was most available and able. Carol had plans for her funeral, she probably had had them for years. She wanted to be buried in a pine box, a very simple casket, in her bicycling clothes. She had an Emily Dickinson poem chosen for her prayer cards. She dyed her hair bright green since it would fall out anyway. She counseled those who grieved early. She laughed at her death, on its way. All of this under my grandparents’ roof.

The time came and no ambulance was called. We were all on our way from various parts of the state anyway, to see my cousin’s daughter in a local play. Carol held on as long as she could, but when we got there, she was gone. When we came into the house it was a little quieter than usual and most of the people were in Carol’s room, some on the bed next to her, some in the chairs, waiting with Carol. People trickled in and out and hushed. We ate a talked a little. And finally, my grandmother thought that she should call someone from the mortuary. Things became a little painful when they arrived, as my grandmother became distraught that she couldn’t find her shoes to walk out with the body, and flitted around the back of the house not knowing what she was supposed to do. “I should go out with them. That’s my baby. Shouldn’t I? Should I? What am I supposed to do?”

I don’t know what a mother is supposed to do when her daughter gets carried away.

It’s probably one of the most painful things I’ve ever experienced.

But it happens. My grandparents learned volumes from Carol. She guided them lovingly through the dying process, and made us all better people.

Carol’s death touched hundreds or maybe thousands of people. She’d been very active with cancer patients and survivors, hospice care, the deaf community, and lately Murder Victims Families for Reconciliation. I can’t remember exactly, but I think it was about 13 years between her breast cancer and the ovarian cancer/pulmonary fibrosis that final killed her. She had inspired thousands, and touched millions through her work. If you have cancer or are close to someone who does, you are probably benefiting from her work. My grandmother received emails and letters from strangers all over the place, condolences and stories of her impact on their lives. A woman none of us knew came to her funeral because she had met Carol when she herself had breast cancer and didn’t know what to do.


If you haven’t talked with your family about your wishes for your death, do it now. It’s an uncomfortable discussion. It’s a complicated one. At the very least, name someone whose judgement you trust, to make those decisions for you. I don’t think there’s a person on the planet who would choose to be kept on a life support system for 15 years as a vegetable. It’s no good for the person who’s dying, and it’s even worse for the people who love them.

I want to make my own “culture of life,” and it sure as hell doesn’t include laying unconscious in a bed for 15 years. I’ll live my life now, thank you very much. When it comes time for me, my family know to pull the plug. I’m an organ donor, and I want to be cremated. I know there will be songs and drinking at my funeral. You can cry, but there should be some laughter too. If anyone wants to know, I had a blast.

Comments:

<>Charles: don't croak too soon. I still need you around. But, you are right, don't keep me alive with a tube up my kiester, pumping it in and out. If I can't feel my penis, pull the plug on me.

but YOU! better be around. I wanna get so drunk I piss myself at your wedding, and I wanna be the first to barf on the floors in your next home.

i think I am about to lose my office betting pool. I put my money on the Pope going before Terri.
Posted by Charles on Monday, March 28, 2005 at 8:40 AM




Rebecca:
Freakishly, I suspect the pope has another month in him. I have no idea why. By all counts, he ought to have gone off by now. I'm a little perturbed that he's clinging so to his life. I mean, what is he afraid of? Doesn't he have himself all spiritually in order? Does he doubt his afterlife?

Anyway, I'll be in Rome soon, so I'm partially wishing to hit it at a really interesting time. Maybe I could go see the smoke signals and all that.

Posted by Rebecca on Monday, March 28, 2005 at 10:04 AM

Amador to Dakar to, um, King City?

<>So it’s been a while since I’ve updated this thingy.
Is it boring to say I’ve been busy?
Last weekend we rode up to gold rush country, Amador County, Sutter Creek to be exact. Turned out that my folks were also there, so it was a neat little convergence on my grandparents’ house. It was wonderful to see them. My grandma took out some old pictures of my mom when she was probably my age or slightly younger. Neat stuff. Sunday Paul and I tooled around on our motorcycles through the little towns and country roads. Could have spent a few days doing that, but just had a few hours. The roads up there are wonderful. Hardly any potholes, very little traffic, and the scenery is incredible. Rolling green hills and layers of far off fog, cows and goats and chickens, ponds, barns, little spurts of flowers in tiny twisting creeks. Yeah. Timing was perfect, and we stopped off at Daffodil Hill, which was just in bloom. A few acres of daffodils, peacocks, chickens, and a donkey and rabbit. Nice. Rode a bit more, found some fun historical landmark plaques, and then headed home again.

-The SV tires track atrociously on rain grooves. I have to remember never to buy tires with tread lines going around the tire parallel to the rain groove. I almost pulled over to pull the thing apart on the way to Sutter Creek, I was so sure there was something wrong.-

Thursday we went to see the SFMC meeting, and Paul was nice enough to let me ride on the back so I could drink some stout. And drink I did.

Friday we went to Saha , a little nice-ish restaurant near my place. We’ve been there three times now, and like it rather well. I recommend it. But check that they’re open before you go, since we’ve been disappointed at least twice by their schedule or a rental. The food is delicious. The wait staff is friendly, but kind of ditzy. They brought me something totally different from what I ordered, but it was delicious. Chocolate cake was omigod. Stop by if you’re in the neighborhood.

Saturday we went back to SFMC for a slideshow presentation by a guy who did the Dakar rally. It was a really neat talk and the photos of the guy’s bike with the front wheel suddenly sunken into the sand (on several occasions, apparently, with a trip over the handlebars each time) were really fun. Wish I could have stayed to chat with all the folks who came out of the woodwork, but we had to go eat.

Yesterday I unfortunately caught wind of some stupid bad idea endurance rally. I say unfortunately because now I really want to go. Really really. And of course it’s a bad idea. I have a 400 single dirtbike, and my aim here is to do 1000 miles in 24 hours and get points and whatnot. My boyfriend is way more reasonable than I, and trying valiantly to talk me out of it. I suppose it’s mainly because I am pained by the fact that I can’t do the Sheetiron this year, but I’m stubbornly interested in this.

Upcoming:
1.) Seattle
2.) Italy
3.) China
4.) Stupid Bad Idea Endurance Rally

Open to other stupidity after that.

To be fair, I have to admit this

Current mood: embarrassed for all of us

Some of my friends are morons.
I know this because I get a lot of stupid bulletins.
I'm not talking about the funny stupid ones. (surveys, etc.)
I'm not even referring to the boring stupid ones. ("how old are you? Repost.")
Really, not even the incredibly annoying, but on-point ones (like the 5,000 announcements for Rocket I got that one time)


But the paranoid "Women, watch out for men spraying perfume," "Women, deoderant causes breast cancer," "Republicans are sneaking the draft back," chain letters and "virus warnings" and other shit, um.
I'm sorry, you are a dumbass.
When was SNOPES introduced?
And, please, since you've forwarded me a million of these "forward to ten people and your crush will call you tomorrow" things, I mean, tell me honestly, how many times did it actually come true? You've forwarded them enough to come up with a number by now.


I'd say you know who you are, but odds are, you don't.

Comments:
John Foley (ape)

I love you.

Posted by John Foley on Thursday, March 10, 2005 at 10:52 PM






Ka'ryn

Exactly!!

Ok, guilty of re-posting a realllllllllllly annoying & DUMB chain mail on occassion, but the sheer multitude of them posted in bulletins on here is....sad.

Oh & HEY!!! I haven't talked to ya in a while, grrl...Dirk is in town--you should come see him in SF.

Ciao sweetie : )

Posted by Ka'ryn on Wednesday, March 23, 2005 at 1:43 PM

It would be cheaper to get a penthouse at The Venetian

<>I suddenly realized last Thursday that I needed to get this trip to Italy planned. It became pretty clear on Friday that my mother was way too busy even think about it, so I took on the hotel search and stuff. Rome and Venice have consumed me all week. It took many hours, sifting through so many fucked up websites… ugh. I want to kill the asshole that invented Flash websites. Just give me the goddam info already!

Italy is fucking expensive. You could very easily spend upwards of $350/night on a ONE star hotel room there. Anyone who was expecting souvenirs, or telling us how great the food was going to be there, um, sorry. We’re not buying anything, and we can’t afford to eat either. Thanks Mr. Bush, for that Strong Dollar you keep talking about. At least admit it.
Anywhoo, I’m still not oriented in Florence (three nights there) or the Tuscany countryside (four nights there), so if anyone has input, please let me know.

And the trains, if you can clearly explain the trains to me, it would be a godsend.

We plan to arrive Rome (8am), get on a train to go up the coast, probably Pisa or somewhere like that, rent a car, and drive into the countryside (wherever we determine to stay, any ideas?). Spend four nights there, with the car, to make day trips to various things in that area.
Drive to Venice, dump the car, and stay in Dorsoduro for four days. Room is booked.
Train to Florence (But HOW?) , stay there for three nights. No hotel yet, any suggestions for cool areas or hotels?
Train to Rome. Apartment booked in Travestere for four nights.
Fly home.

Help! I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to buy a train pass, or individual tickets, and if so, do I buy now or when I’m there?

Last night I watched a movie called The Control Room. I highly recommend this movie to everyone. It’s a great look at the media coverage in the Iraq war and Al Jazeera in particular. Netflix has it. There are some really stupendous hairdo's in this movie too. Go forth and see the rest of the world.

Comments:
John Foley (ape)

Poor baby. Having trouble getting your posh European vacation to go the way you want? Sounds like Bush's fault to me too. I blame him for my huge nostrils.

Posted by John Foley on Wednesday, March 09, 2005 at 2:01 PM




Rebecca: uh, yeah.

I'm travelling POSH, was totally the point of my blog.

Posted by Rebecca on Wednesday, March 09, 2005 at 2:11 PM

damn, I was counting on them to be the smart ones

<>Apparently, the Japanese are just as dumb as us:
Hint: It's Above South Korea

I mean, I have to come out right now and admit that my placement of certain states (including a lot of red ones, to be honest) and a lof of countries is full of giant voids. (there are a lot of damn countries out there. Honestly, can you place every country in Africa and do you even know where Myanmar is? OK, I know that one, I'm just saying, is all) I know which states are on the edges, and where Texas is, because drinking is cheap there. I know where Kansas is, just on account of family history, and Tennessee, since I've vowed never to return. Having ridden into Nevada, I could pick it out of a lineup, and I hear Utah is around there too somewhere. Not that it matters. Utah doesn't matter. No one wanted it anyway, is why the Mormons have it.

Countries that regulary make the news, countries I've been to, and countries with really good cheese-- I know where these are. If I've called them trying to figure out why they didn't answer my emails and where the hell are my samples, I also KNOW. (I'm watching you, China) That includes South Korea. Which makes me an expert on where North Korea is. (just for shits, they should have put North Korea somewhere else entirely.)

But, placing USA in China? Or Congo? We should be so lucky as to be in Brazil.

Uhh, huh.

This gives me a little faith and a little terror. I mean, I guess I'm not as stupid as I always thought, you know, compared to brainy Japan.
On the other hand, If the A-students of our world class are getting dumber, the whole curve is thrown. If they can't place the USA, I'm going to start saying "nucular," just to keep things in balance. And maybe also develop a complete misunderstanding of the concept of sovereignty.


I'm just babbling.
Anyone offer any good advice about Italy? Like, I cannot decipher the whole train thing, and where can I stay for cheap, but not icky-cheap. My mom will be with me. No hostels.
I know where Italy is.

Comments:
John Foley (ape)

I can name every country and capital in Africa, so there. I can't point to every one of them on the map, but who the fuck can? And Myanmar was formerly known as Burma, capital Rangoun. Put not your faith in Chinamen.

Posted by John Foley on Friday, March 04, 2005 at 7:22 AM




Rebecca: You need to get out more.
Posted by Rebecca on Friday, March 04, 2005 at 8:40 AM

What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas

<>But only because it's too boring to mention.

I spent the weekend in Vegas with my boss.
Wait, that sounds bad.

Went to Vegas Saturday morning to set up our booth for the MAGIC show. The work wasn't too bad, but shopping for belts Sunday really sucked. I don't think my taste is really in the same place as my boss' or the other people in my company, so I was really nervous about that. Other than that:

-Delayed flight Saturday morning, damn, I could have been sleeping! Next time, check the flight first, before leaving your warm bed. Arrived around 1:30 Saturday, worked on setting up the booth for a bit, checked in to our hotel. My room was way bigger than my apartment, and had two televisions, two beds, a fold-out chouch, three telephones, a printer/fax, three stools, six chairs, and I think about 6 tables. I kept getting turned around downstairs, but, yeah, the Venetian is nice. The downside to my room was the sunken living room (!) which had a light on the stairs for safety, which you could not turn off.

Saturday night dinner at the Mandalay Bay. Picked the wrong restaraunt. Yuck.

-Sunday, drama with the salespeople (just one, really) and more booth set up. Lunch at Venetian Cafe, Dinner at Zefforino, in the Venetian. The new office girl from our New York office is sweet, but who the heck orders "White Zinfandel, but it should be pink?" unless they're talking about box wine?

Spent almost two hours Sunday shopping for belts for our booth, and it was a strange feeling to stroll into some of these uppity designer stores with the real possiblilty of buying something. Hello! I'm in Gucci, and ready to buy! Thankfully, they didn't have what I needed.

I think the tiki bar is gone. :(

-Monday, up bright and early, good breakfast, then to MAGIC. The show is cool, very big, but also very boring in reality. Picked up a bunch of magazines (they have all these free magazines) and hiked around the fabric and trim sourcing area to look for stuff. I still have no business cards to give these vendors, which makes me look like an ass. Took off for the airport shortly after lunch.

All in all, a fine trip. But I feel old. I mean, here I am in Vegas, it's supposed to be all "woooo!" and stuff, and I'm just, work, eat, go to bed. Next time I need to bring more comfortable shoes, and sneek my boyfriend in.

Now it's time to make a dress for the wedding, and start getting ready for Italy. Shoes, luggage, reservations! oh MY!

Comments:
B.

oooohhhh, Vegas can soooooo suck it.

Posted by B. on Thursday, February 17, 2005 at 4:06 PM

year end, a month or two late

<>I did this last year, and here I am, but this time a month and a half late.
How much my life has changed...
I always told my friend Eric (who I've known for like 11 years) that 27 was the perfect age. He was miserable at 26, and I reminded him that for years I'd been telling him, 27, perfect. He loved his 27 and frequently told me I was right.
My 27 is halfway over, and it has been the very best. I'd like to say I have everything I ever wanted, but I guess there are a few things I don't have (like a jetpack, and my SV650 dual sport), and, more importantly, I have something I could never have imagined.


1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Fell madly in love.
Got Road Rash.
Went to a tradeshow for work.
A couple of little wheelies
Get hit by a car, for real, like, go all the way down. (I’ve been winged before but never “Whack! Thunk! Crash!”)
Got a hangover from BEER.
Went to a Hell’s Angels party.
Fired guns.
Took a longish motorcycle road trip by myself.


2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't believe in New Year's resolutions.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No.

5. What countries did you visit?
None.

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
I didn’t lack in 2004. But I’m looking for more travel.

7. What date from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
July 11th. I crashed my SV650, hard, and that’s how I got Paul to spend some time with me. Messed my finger up good and destroyed all of my riding confidence. It was worth it.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Riding into Seattle by myself was awesome. The pass over Mt. Ranier was beautiful. Next time I hope to have company though. And conning that hot guy with the XR650 to hang out with me.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Crashing, not regaining my skills and confidence. Thousands of little temper flare failures.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Uhh, yeah. I will never be a hand model again. My finger doesn’t bend as well as it used to, and the nail grows in softer now. The scar is still shedding off hard skin constantly.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I wish I could say my SV650, but... hmm, that’s a tough one. I really like my furry boots with chrome heels.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Paul’s, he treats me so well. My parents, for constantly working to make the world better.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Same as last year:
My own, at times.
George Bush's, at all times.

But, this year, also:
The voters, ugh. I’m glad to see that the po’ white trash contingent is selflessly giving their vote to those who would screw them over the worst. And “Christian” and “moral” are two words that we need to reclaim.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent?
Followed by my motorcycles.
And some paying down of debt, this is my goal to finish the bad debt thing early this year, and then start chipping away at the student loan.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
My motorcycle, the Sheetiron, the ride to Burning Man, Grand Theft Auto. Those are all the same as last year. Except, that where last year I also said “being single again,” now I will say the most exciting thing in the world to me is my incredibly hot boyfriend. I also got pretty excited about my trip to Seattle, and my brother’s engagement.

16. What songs/bands will always remind you of 2004?
I don’t listen to new music, really. So, anything that I had in my RIO when I rode to Seattle. That’s a lot of Snog, Rob Zombie, and Jimmy Luxury

17. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?
Happier. Omigod, am I ever happier.

ii. thinner or fatter?
Fatter.

iii. richer or poorer?
Richer. Since I paid down debt.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Riding, and I keep meaning to get back to sewing.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Crashing.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Oops. I spent it with family as always.

22. Did you fall in love in 2003?
Yeah, I think that’s a theme here.

23. How many one night stands?
None.

24. What were your favorite TV programs?
The Simpsons, still. I still don’t have cable, but I sure as hell wanted to catch the season of Surreal Life featuring Flavor Flav and Charo. I really really wish I could have seen that.

26. What was the best book you read?
“Your Disgusting Head,” and “Giraffes!”.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Um, I didn’t have one.

28. What did you want and get?
An SV650. Be careful what you wish for. I mean, I did want a red one, and I ended up with a blue one. Maybe a red one would not have crashed so easily, and had a better suspension?

Also, something that started with something like “what kind of tires are you running on your XR?”

29. What did you want and not get?
A good, rideable streetbike.

30. What was your favorite film(s) of this year?
I really enjoyed The Life Aquatic. Was that 2004? Faster was pretty great. HATED Napoleon Dynamite, and everything else is a blur.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Had dinner with many friends at Don Ramon’s. Drank several yummy margaritas. Dropped my cupcake on the floor. Rode around on the back of Charles’ ST1100 like a drunken idiot. 27yrs.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
It’s honestly hard to ask for more. Crashing less, riding more, and more confidently would have been better.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2003?
I have a corporate job, and a corporate uniform. Other than that, I have a bulky snowsuit to wear every single day for riding. On the 2% days, when I get my own clothes and no riding, I’m all about the furry boots with chrome heels. And the very occasional latex.

34. What kept you sane?
My DRZ (it’s PERFECT) and Paul (he’s PERFECT). And, as the background to my entire life, my family. It’s a constant, in support, framework, and inspiration.

35. Which celebrity/public figure(s) did you fancy the most?
Still Rob Zombie and Tim Burton, though I can’t think of anything they did this year specifically. Politically, I have to say, I was impressed by Gavin Newsom’s stand.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Omigod. Don’t get me started. With the election behind us, I’m pretty fucking disturbed, politically, on a federal level. Right now, I’m just hanging on by upping my donations and interest in ACLU and Planned Parenthood. I talk now with my grandparents about the importance of Planned Parenthood. These organizations need our support now more than ever to get through the next four years with as little damage as possible. I have very little hope to make anything better in the immediate future, only to try desperately to hold on to the rights we have now. And wait for a better day. I hope it’s coming. I am doing a tiny part by boycotting a few companies that I know to support an administration that would put me back in place and then watch and limit what I do there. I am most disturbed to find that Victoria’s Secret/Express are big Bush supporters. As a company that makes its money off of women and their developing career-orientation, sexuality, and freedom, I cannot fathom why they should support a regime that would limit that and take away our freedoms and reverse the sexual revolution. This really doesn’t sit well with me. It’s just the tip of the iceberg.

And it’s all too much. What do I work on now? Sending emails and letters to my representatives to preserve my civil rights, and my interests as a motorcyclist. Showing up to meetings about land use to preserve my off-road riding rights. What the fuck is it with people who have no qualms about paving shit over, and then driving on it, but see something wrong with cutting a little trail and riding through?
Would putting a strip mall next to the single track, maybe a drive through Starbucks next to the dirt road, make it nobler, more acceptable? Seriously, go fuck yourself, cager.


37. Who did you miss?
Charles.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
Paul. Duh.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.
Miniscule pothole + streetbike= blood and guts, and lots of dollar signs and depression. Stick to Dualies. When people tell you that that’s how a bike is supposed to be, people need to be ignored.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
"Candlelight dinners, and just being with you
Feeling so romantic and so warm inside.
Yes I do, I really do
I start to thinky
Of just how stinky
That the things, they really are

I think of Chernobyl, and toxic waste dumps
And the hole in the ozone the size
Of the United States
I think of dead fish
And the dolphins that wash up
On our shores
I think of Condors, and Black Rhinos
And tens of thousands of animals
Facing extinction today.

I wanna forget, all this madness
And just think about the way
You make me feel
Yes you do, you really do

I see the pictures, of reindeer in Norway
Dying from being downwind from
Nuclear air
I think of children, in San Francisco
Dying of leukemia, and new terms
Like cancer clusters
It makes me feel so blue
It does
It makes me feel so blue"

(actually that’s a fucked up blenderized version, since I haven’t heard that song in a long time, and forget a lot)

Comments:
Charles:

don't miss me. I am right here.

Posted by Charles on Wednesday, February 16, 2005 at 8:56 PM

2:20 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

I don't even NEED to make this shit up

<>Or, why I love places like Tennessee
she had all her teeth

Maybe we should reconsider what exactly is meant by "a jury of your peers"

He really focused on finding what you really love to do

Good career advice for your kids

I need to annex the neighbor's place

<>I need to take a car for a test drive, just so I can stop by my house and schlep a bunch of crap to Goodwill. I was thinking mini coopper, because they're so darn cute, but my second thought is that I'll need a truck.

Or maybe I need to learn how to sell stuff on ebay. I'm just a little unclear on the whole shipping thing.

Somehow, I need to get all this crap out of my little apartment.

When I moved into this place, it seemed huge. For the first couple of years, I didn't even use two of the closets. Then, very suddenly and very quickly, it started to fill with crap. Being an art student, I compiled a dizzying array of art supplies, artwork, fabric, sewing machines (there are THREE in my studio), shit I thought might make an interesting project someday. I have a problem with books and magazines. Since I've dabbled in different mediums, I have acquired equipment and supplies for all kinds of shit: darkroom gewgaws, metalworking tools, of course sewing and patternmaking. Don't forget bookmaking, etching, millinery, and textile printing.

Then I got bikes, and now all the shit normal people would keep in their garage is crammed into what is essentially my nightstand. Want a glass of brake fluid? No need to leave the bed!


Ugh. It has to go. Or I need to move to Tennessee, where I could afford a nice spacious place to house all my shit.

Sadly, even after I decide something needs to go, I have no way to take it out of the house.
So, test drive a mini cooper. Anyone know how to drive, want to go for a test drive?

<>Comments:
Charles: you have a freind with a HUGE goddamn van. You set a weekend date, get everything ready, have a location for it to go TO, and I will bring a big BIG van.
Posted by Charles on Tuesday, January 25, 2005 at 10:09 AM

Why I'm not going to fucking Rocket

<>Goddamit, my FRIENDS are spamming me now.
You're throwing a party? Great.
You want to tell me? Great.
You want to tell me FOUR TIMES? NO.

I've gotten six bulletins about this stupid club in the past TWO days, and FOUR of them were from ONE person, two of which were sent within twelve hours of one another!


riiiiiiight.
I'll be washing my hair that night.



Comments:
Rebecca:Make that eight total bulletins, five from one person.

Keep trying! Twentieth time's a charm!

Posted by Rebecca on Friday, January 14, 2005 at 8:41 AM




Rebecca: In a bizarre spam fest from my friends, the grand total was 9 bulletins (not counting things like "this is where I'm going to be Saturday night, call if you want to hang out" or etc.)

Two spam-happy people tied with SIX posts each flogging this event, and three other people politely sent the announcement out only once.

No Kudos for anyone.

Posted by Rebecca on Tuesday, January 18, 2005 at 11:15 AM

Sometimes China is just in the WAY

<>So, Paul came back, and New Years Eve was nice and mellow. I’m a bit relieved since I’ve never been much of a “woo-HOOOOO!!!!!” New Year’s Eve person.

I found out a couple of days ago that my company is making me go to China in May for our sales meeting. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except that it’s the weekend of the Sheetiron! GODDAMMIT !!!!! Seriously, like one of those things that I measure my year by, but I cannot go. Really, really sucks.
This year will be different anyway. The past couple of years have been metered by Sheetiron, Burning Man, Christmas. These are the markers and highpoints of the cycle. This year, no Burning Man, no Sheetiron. I decided not to go to Burning Man after last year was kind of a let down to me. I put in as little effort as anyone, so I’m not complaining, just recognizing that if I’m not working for it, I’m part of the problem. Maybe I’ll change my mind. I figure I’ll go somewhere on my dirtbike instead.

The year looks like this now:
February- Vegas for the MAGIC show for work. I stay at the Venetian. There’s a Tiki bar there. But tiki bars aren’t so great by yourself. Sigh.
April- 4 days in Seattle for my brother’s wedding. It will be fun. I’m excited.
April/May- Two and a half weeks in Italy with my mom.
May- Fucking China trip for work. Grrrrrrrrr….
July- Nothing. I’m thinking another four day road trip is in order for Independence Day. (Seattle again, or somewhere else?)
August- Nothing. Labor Day weekend dual sport trip of some sort?

It looks like a whole lot of nothing after a very busy May. I’ll be all out of vacation after Italy, so I guess the rest of the year will be mostly local. I want to do more dirt riding. I need to learn how to wheelie anyway. What to do to make up for missing out on the Sheetiron? sniff sniff…

dig deep, dig shallow, just DIG

<>Before you say to yourself "I'm too poor," please consider the difference in meaning, of what you consider "poor," and the poverty that exists on a daily basis in much of Asia. Now consider that even those low means of living have been wiped out completely for hundreds of thousands of people. The death tolls from the tsunamis are incredible, but what's really going to hurt is the struggle after.


If you give 10 bucks and skip your lattes this week, someone might get clean drinkable water so their kids don't die. If you then pass this on and each of your friends gives 10 bucks, well, it grows and grows, so quickly, and so easily, doesn't it?


http://www.ifrc.org/helpnow/donate/donate_response.asp
The website is bogged down right now, but be patient, it will load (I hope this is a good sign)

All I want for Christmas is for you to stop bitching

<>I baked assloads of cookies this weekend, but did not send out the Christmas cards I bought, and even started to write in. I am about 75 percent Christmas ready, and ready to blow the rest off so I can lounge in my boyfriend's empty apartment for the next couple of days.

I miss him, like, a LOT. His cat is an incredibly sorry substitute for his presence, but I figure we can commiserate about not having someone to feed us and rub our chins until we drool.

And I am going to LOAF for the next two days.
Before Christmas. That rocks.

And, I want to take a moment to address all the obnoxious people who keep saying things like "I hate the holidays," "I can't wait until the holidays are over," "No presents, I hate Christmas," or whatever your fucking problem is...
If you don't like Christmas, shut the fuck up and get on with your life. Don't go out and feel like you have to buy shit because of Christmas. Go spend time with your friends and family, go do something nice. Do not go to the mall. If you really don't like Christmas, don't fucking participate! But complaining is just rude to those of us who DO enjoy Christmas.

I did some shopping and stuff, but the things I've enjoyed the most this year (and in years past) is the time I get with the people I love. I also love the Christmas music and lights, the crispness of the air, and the thouroughly-ingrained-despite-my-having-left-the-church-ages-ago sense of anticipation and wonder.

Christmas is totally about gifts. YES. From a religious standpoint, it might be the gift of god's son, or hope. I've received priceless gifts of friendship and love throughout the year, and it's this time of the year when we all think of the people around us dearly. Some may get material gifts to signify this, others may not. I had the gift of a wonderful dinner with friends last Sunday. And then I have family coming up this weekend. If you're reading this, you have the gift of life, and we all know a few who don't have that this year. It's a gift you ought to share with others around you like RIGHT FUCKING NOW, because you don't know which of us won't be sharing it next year.

Sometimes I've not been able to do gift-buying for christmas. One year, I was hospitalized just before the holiday, and sick too much before and after to shop. Didn't make a damn bit of difference to anyone around me. Trinkets are cool. But don't kid yourself. You don't really care about them, and neither do the people around you. They care about the gift of you. So give it up, scroogey, and stop yer bitching.


I am done with christmas shopping, now I have to come up with a bridesmaid dress.

<>Comments:
Charles: Presence, not Presents
Posted by Charles on Sunday, December 26, 2004 at 6:53 PM

creeping death

Current mood: sick

Now entering Week 2 of the Creeping Death cold. It just gets worse and worse. Last night I couldn't even get through the night-- woke up at 2am and couldn't stop caughing. For like an hour. After which, I finally decided to take ANOTHER dose of Nyquil (on top of the dose I took before going to bed but after a giagantic glass of wine)
Waking up and getting my shit together this morning was difficult. If I weren't so goddam busy at work, I'd stay home. But there's piles of shit to do, and more coming in all the time. I'm sick as shit and people just keep giving me more crap to do. Hey, here's an idea... if I'm the only one staying until 8 every night, maybe you should give that work to someone who is leaving at 5? My one comfort is the knowledge that they're all walking out of my office with a colony of Creeping Death germs. I hate it when work gets like this. I hate it more when I'm totally fucking sick.
Bitch, moan, complain. I hope this will ease up next week. I think it will.

It's all just distraction from the most miserable part of this, which is that Paul's away right now. Blue Christmas, indeed. Aaargh! three weeks is too long! I'm too busy with working to even do anything weird like go to his house and make a scarecrow from his clothes, or smell his pillow or something creepy. I'd make a terrible stalker.

And speaking of Christmas, I picked up something really cool for my sister in-law (assuming I actually get my ebay stuff in time) and now I'm really just stumped by my dear old dad. Dads are so difficult!

hack cough ugh

he's still on the airplane

<>but i miss him terribly already.
:(

Or my personal favorite:

Current mood: cranky

Sorry! an unexpected error has occurred.

This error has been forwarded to MySpace's technical group.


I don't know about everyone else, but I'm thinking, after the first hundred or so times, how "unexpected" is it, really?

Dear Myspace: Don't you ever get tired of sucking?

Current mood: aggravated

Error Occurred While Processing Request

Error Diagnostic Information

An error occurred while attempting to establish a connection to the service.

The most likely cause of this problem is that the service is not currently running. You can use the 'Services' Control Panel to verify that the service is running and to restart it if necessary.

Windows NT error number 2 occurred.

Back to The One I Love

Current mood: excited

Saturday we breathed life back into the DRZ. It had very sad valves, and we put the new shims in, fired it up! Not only does it run again, but it feels like a new bike! More power, happier in general, still need to fine tune the idle and all that, but for now, it RUNS!
And, as I took it around the neighborhood to test it out, I was very immediately reminded of the way riding used to make me feel. Corner once, twice, and oh HELL yeah, this is the bike for me! Lately I'd been very much NOT enjoying riding. I never used to say "couldn't we just go somewhere in walking distance" so much (unless there's liquor involved) and I was getting more and more depressed about it. All of that was gone as soon as I pushed the bike down under me to take sixth street. You can tell the bike is pushed down enough when you are looking at your teeth in the opposite mirror. Would the SV take that? Uh, no.
So all is well again. At least, enough is well. I am in heaven on that bike.

The SV finally got its new battery and is safely off of the street and away from the meter maids. It will sit there for a few weeks until Paul comes back, during which time I'll hopefully formulate a better plan of action. And, most importantly, ENJOY riding again. Then I'll be in a better frame of mind to approach the thing.

So far, the things floating around in my head:
-numero uno: replace fork oil. For $12 and a pan of brownies I can get this little thing fixed, and maybe make a little improvement.
-numero dos: someone to help me set the rear suspension properly. I suspect it's set up for someone heavier, though I don't know why, since the previous owner was my size. Might this help keep it planted in the turns?

Other considerations:
-tires: I'm tired of EXPECTING the tires to slip at least once in every ride. Last night it was when I got off of the freeway; the ride home before that was when I was on West Hill leaving work. Whatever. I don't know what it is, but it's nerve-racking. Rain Race Tires? The tires I have now are good for trips to Seattle, but how often am I really riding to Seattle? I know sticky tires are not long-lasting, but maybe it would be worth it to get rid of some of the icky feeling.
-Suspension: if I keep the thing, and the fork oil and rear shock don't work for me, that's a thousand dollars to sink into my bike. hmph.
-Selling it: which seems sort of logical, but I don't think there's a more suitable bike that I can think of. (except that SV dirtbike conversion?) Which leads me to believe that I might do better to just work on the one I have. Also, I DO like the motor. A bunch. And it's such a pretty blue.


Now, I don't have any real understanding of suspension, and I probably never would have noticed it had I stuck to crappy bikes like my first bike. But the DRZ has me spoiled. It feels so solid, really strongly stuck to the ground, anchored. Beautiful. The SV feels like it is rolling around, but not in a sticky tire sort of way; it feels like marbles on glass, gliding around this way and that, no real connection to the ground. That and all the clunkey stuff. I don't know how much of that is just my spoiled DRZ-riding ass, and how much of it is a nasty combo of suspension, fork-oil, and hard tires.

I DO know, that I am thrilled to have my real bike back up. And to enjoy riding again, and feel perfect again. The DRZ is like my own pair of legs, completely natural, and wonderful...

9:53 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

dead battery, and hope

I'm stuck at home today. My bike would not start this morning, and there isn't really any way for me to get to work without wheels. Nevermind all the work I was complaining about piling up on my desk. It's a beautiful day to spend at home, work will wait. It has to.

So it's Christmas time, I've become a little reflective.
This is what's inspiring me today:
http://sorryeverybody.com/


I've also looked just a tiny bit (not enough yet) into where some of my money goes. It's too much to handle perfectly, but I've found that several of my favorite retailers are BIG republican funders.

Victoria's Secret? WTF?! Do I need to remind them that their bread and butter comes from the sexual revolution, which, in a world where we aren't allowed to to discuss anything but abstinence, DOESN'T FUCKING EXIST!
WTF? Damn, but that's just as well, think of all the money I'll save on shit I don't really need.

Sadly, they are part of the Limited, Co., and that includes my very favorite place to buy clothes. Goodbye Express. Oh, and I have two shirts I bought a month or so ago I need to return to the store now.

And since Christmas is coming up, I've been thinking about gifts. I'm making something for some people, other people I'm not sure. But I do now have this handy list to keep in mind:
http://www.projectbluechristmas.com/
Nobody I know needs anything besides more time with the people they love, anyway. I'm making something for my sister that she will really like. I don't know about my dad yet.
Anyway, I've been meaning to look into changing banks for a while.

Our politicians are on a mission from God. They say they want to unite, but the actions show otherwise. They know that roughly half of the country does not agree with them, but they look forward blindly into what they want to see. In short, they don't give a shit about what you think.
But their financial supporters DO care what you buy.
Boycott, make informed choices. TRY. Make micro-movements, follow up with a letter.

Dreamy

My dream bike.

Well, I mean, in addition to my 400. This is more for the road.

gimmee.


http://home.swiftdsl.com.au/~sv650/Frame%20Enduro.html

Comments:
Pauly Unsaturated

Things must be crazy cheap in Australia. $1900AUD=$1500USD. You'd be hard pressed to just find those forks here for that much.



Hey!


hey!

Posted by Pauly Unsaturated on Tuesday, November 30, 2004 at 9:23 PM




Rebecca:

Cool, well, christmas is coming. Tell my parents that's what I really need!
Convince them that I would crash less, they dig that kind of thing.

Posted by Rebecca on Wednesday, December 01, 2004 at 11:19 AM

My deadbeat brother

<>I am completely at a loss of what to do without my brother around for the holidays.
It made a little bit of sense to me, that my sister, once married, would alternate Thanksgiving dinner with her in-laws and Christmas dinner with her in-laws, every year. We still saw her Christmas morning, so this was somewhat acceptable. But my brother, who has apparently gone over to the dark side, is not even going to bother coming home for either of the two! And he’s not even married yet! This is pretty depressing to me. I am a complete sucker for Christmas, and I really can’t imagine it without my family all together.

Thanksgiving was a little depressing, first, because my brother didn’t come, but second, because my sister and her husband could not make it, since their car crapped out in Livermore. So neither of my siblings showed, and furthermore I had no real food since my sister was bringing the veggie food. That’s fine, Thanksgiving feasting turned into Thanksgiving snacking, which I can totally live with. But not having them around was weird and sad. My uncle and aunt had gone south, and very few of my cousins were there. My grandparents seem to have been ambushed by aging in the past couple of years, and this is visibly upsetting my grandfather. Maybe it’s a good thing that our numbers were so small: less stress for my grandparents?

Friday was a much better day. Grandma Kay’s waffles for breakfast (with peanut butter and maple syrup!) and then we went wine tasting, bringing along my grandparents. Which they REALLY enjoyed. I got tossed, and bought way too much wine. We picked up fancy-pants cheese on the way home, for a quick wine and cheese party. I was already drunk, then we all binged and ate too goddam much cheese, until we felt sick. Well, at least I did. I considered puking to make myself feel better, and for old times sake, since I always got sick at my grandma’s house as a child. But instead, crashed out face down in the turret room upstairs. Nap time was crudely interrupted by my mom who wanted me to get up to see a crappy movie. They only show crappy movies in Jackson, and The Incredibles was the least offensive. My grandparents had a wonderful time with us on Friday, and that night my grandmother slept through 8 hours for the first time in months.

Saturday, breakfast at Rosebud’s (best coffeecake in the world), tiny bit of shopping, and then home again. I baked brownies for my folks, which we scarfed with port, then we pulled out the Christmas stuff from the observatory. (no spiders this time, but did get one dead cricket.) Somehow it’s all left to me, and no siblings, decorating the tree with my mom. Sigh. I’m going to go cry now.

Currently listening: Merry Christmas From the Space-Age By Esquivel Release date: By 20 August, 1996

valve lash and meeting the 'rents

<>Wahoo!
Good news! My DRZ exhaust valves are too tight. Finally, the dang thing shows signs of how it can be fixed. It was getting ridiculous to ride for a while. Parts are on order.

Everyone knows I can not cook to save my life, so Friday, I tried to make Paul teach me how to cook stuff. It worked, and was not too scary. I’m sure it bewilders him how I can be a vegetarian for 15 years and know nothing about vegetables.

Saturday afternoon was one of those sunny San Francisco Saturdays that make you wonder what exactly you’ve been doing with your time that makes you miss out on these lazy shuffling around the city days. It will start raining soon, and the sidewalks will become empty and the streets hostile again. Christmas time in my neighborhood is the worst, and I saw this weekend that the traffic has already started. Union Square before Christmas is as bad as it gets. One year this guy in a Lincoln Town Car Limo thingie ran over my foot on purpose. He was stuck in the predictable traffic snarl, and angry I suppose. I crumpled up the bag of chips I was eating and emptied it into his lap for shits. Oddly, getting your foot run over by a car doesn’t actually hurt. But it does make you mad. (like crashing motorcycles)

Saturday night I did something I haven’t done since I was about 13, and went to meet my beau’s mom. I was nervous, to be honest. But it was OK. She was pretty much like I’d imagined, and did not say anything like “stay away from my son, you floozy!” or “when are you planning to get a real job?” or “so, are you knocked up?” No, she was just as sweet and intelligible as I’d imagined, and fed me ice cream and wine and cheese and olives. Perfect. She did NOT, however, break out with any nekkid baby pictures, sadly. And didn’t seem to have any embarrassing stories to tell. Maybe later.

But Sunday, Sunday was the icing on the cake. Mimosas for breakfast, and then took apart my DRZ. And found the exhaust valves were omigod tight. Which is almost certainly the reason my bike has been dying constantly. This can be fixed, fairly simply, so that’s a great relief. I have really been missing my DRZ.

I was feeling sorry for Paul, as we rode back over the bridge, that he is riding with me, and it’s like riding with a goddam newbie rider. Every time I get on my bike, I ride a little bit worse. It’s embarrassing for me and surely for anyone unfortunate enough to ride with me. Putting air back in the SV tires spooked me a little, but I’m sure it’s a good thing once I get used to it. Need to learn more about suspension and figure out what steps to take with that bike, since the SV is the culprit, I believe, that makes me such a shit rider these days. I’m thinking, set the rear suspension more correctly if possible, perhaps do something with fork oil. Try to get advice from Charles. Then consider the options of throw money at it, or get out. Anyway, having the DRZ back up to snuff will be great.

Then I COOKED. It was unbelievable and fun, and did not turn out disastrous. I had a little supervision and moral support, but mostly, I am capable of a simple recipe. Hmph.

Aaaaaaand, Christmas is coming. Which I LOVE. I am crazy for Christmas music, and cookies, and family time. So I’m pretty excited. All starting this Thursday with family stuff in Sutter Creek. Wine tasting on Friday, and hopefully a Christmas tree at the folks’ house this weekend. Woot!

Comments:

Pauly Unsaturated

You forgot to mention the $230 enima.

Posted by Pauly Unsaturated on Saturday, November 27, 2004 at 7:26 PM



Rebecca: well, I still think you paid too much for that, so I wasn't going to bring it up!
Posted by Rebecca on Saturday, November 27, 2004 at 7:27 PM

sit on my lap

<>OK, shit. What the heck do I get my parents, brother, sister, and in-laws for Christmas?

Last year, I made my brother and sister footie pajamas like we had when we were kids.

Now what?
Ack!

Tell me what you want for christmas. Sit on my lap. This will be our little secret, right?

Currently listening: Dr. Demento Presents: Greatest Christmas Novelty CD By Various Artists Release date: By 31 July, 1989

today's horoscope

<>Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
Opening a free amusement park was a great idea, but people will be revolted by your idea of amusement.

validation

<>oh good. I'm finally getting spam on MySpace.


"Yo. This is that site our mutual friend shot for. It's an amateur site but
she is naked as a jaybird in there. Keep watching the video. She get's real
nasty. I can't believe she did that! :)"


I wouldn't find this so offensive if it weren't for the abuse of the apostrophe.
I was totally fooled by the "mutual friend" thing too! darn those clever spammers! uhhh, yeah.

what's underneath, even when the shiny side's up

<>It’s not so often, but sometimes the self-doubt becomes too much. Maybe I really suck at this. Maybe I should take the fucking hint. They’re not exactly subtle hints, anyway. They’re violent, painful, shocking, smelly bad hints, with metal snapping, fingers grinding, sparks flying. I can hear the motor as it spins away. Sometimes it’s a quick one, and sometimes it unfolds in slow motion. Maybe you're looking at the bottom of the motorcycle behind you, rider in panic; you can see his suspension load up as he screeches to a halt. What an interesting view it is down here!

For a while, I got better. I got better, and better, and it was fun. Then the fear set in. It started on July 11th, and it’s been getting worse since. There’s no explanation for that one, so it’s only me.

I can excuse myself somewhat for last night, but in the end, it’s always only you. That’s what makes you the rider. You are always responsible. Hit a deer? What were you doing speeding through the forest? I know. I do it, and when it happens, that’s what I’m going to ask myself. Car made a left in front of you? We all know that’s the most common accident, you should have taken some precaution. Did you make enough eye contact? Was your headlight working? Did you slow down for the intersection? You should know this, you’ve heard the stories, read the articles, you’ve even professed it to others. So what’s your fucking excuse?

I could explain it, that someone put three bottles of motor oil in the intersection where I make my turn after crossing Market Street. Going back and seeing the bottles and puddles meant something to me for sure. But the frequency tells me that there’s something wrong with ME. How many miles have I gone? Probably more than you. So why now, why all of the sudden, have I completely lost it? And what am I doing ignoring these messages?

I started out scared and it took a few years and many thousands of miles to gain some confidence. It was an uphill battle but there was a golden period earlier this year where I HAD IT. But the past few months I’ve just been sliding down the other side of the mountain, taking twigs and rocks in the face and hating myself more every minute.

The pavement hurts, but not so much as this. I’m not so much afraid of the falling off literally, it’s all the falling that continues even after you’ve picked up the bike.

Comments:
Joe

This too shall pass. You sound like you know how to ride safely... you've just had some bad luck. It'll turn. I'm still trying to conquer my own fear of getting on a bike. I've always wanted to, but deaths have cooled my desire. But I don't think we should be hogtied by our fears. So I plan on getting a bike next year. Any bike recommendations?

Posted by Joe on Sunday, November 21, 2004 at 11:54 PM