No. Just NO.

U.S. homeowners with subprime mortgages struggling under payments need federal government help to ease them through the crisis, a leading consumer advocacy group said on Wednesday.

EXCUSE ME?!?!?!
So people who saw nothing but greed and financial irresponsibility now are in line for BAILOUTS?

The group, which represents hundreds of low-income housing advocates across the country, said Congress should immediately step in to aid subprime borrowers.

Wait a minute. Two years ago, when these same people stretched themselves out, took out irresponsible loans, and said "housing only goes up," they were not looking to share their profits with the rest of us. Why in the hell are they entitled to shove their losses on us then?

Oh, yeah, it's called "privatize profits, socialize losses."

As I understand it, these same greedy "housing always goes up, I'm making tons of money doing nothing by buying a house" (and by "buying," they really mean "renting money from the bank to live here") are now crying about the downside of their risks? And the gubmint is supposed to bail them out? So WE should pay for their poor gambling mistake? Let me see... so it follows, that if it had gone the other way, and they had made money, they would have happily given that money to the rest of us, right? I mean, they wouldn't ask for us to pay their downside, if they weren't willing to give away their profits too, right?

I will be absolutely outraged if we have to pay for these idiots, and thereby prop up home prices to keep financially responsible people out, by subsidizing the gamblers. I'm offended that it's even up for discussion.

You gamble, you lose, you pay.

Home ownership is something you save for, and do responsibly. In the past few years, it has turned into an "investment" vehicle for the masses who were unwiling to consider the long-term reality and fundamentals. Guess what? "Investments" sometimes go up, and sometimes go down. Don't play if you aren't willing to pay. Now it's time to pay.

Bailing these idiots out punishes the financially responsible, by wasting their taxes and artificially propping up home prices instead of letting them fall to levels in line with fundamentals.

Ugh.

Won't someone think of the children?!?!??!

Are you concerned about this?!?!

YOU SHOULD BE.

Dihydrogen Monoxide (DHMO) is a colorless and odorless chemical compound, also referred to by some as Dihydrogen Oxide, Hydrogen Hydroxide, Hydronium Hydroxide, or simply Hydric acid. Its basis is the unstable radical Hydroxide, the components of which are found in a number of caustic, explosive and poisonous compounds such as Sulfuric Acid, Nitroglycerine and Ethyl Alcohol.

Well, color me shocked!

"The FBI improperly and, in some cases, illegally used the USA Patriot Act to secretly obtain personal information about people in the United States, a Justice Department audit concluded Friday."

This is so surprising!
Although, I think the P.A.T.R.I.O.T. Act stinks so much, that even "legal" use of it is wrong, wrong, wrong, and illegal, in many cases.

"The American Civil Liberties Union said the audit proves Congress must amend the Patriot Act to require judicial approval anytime the FBI wants access to sensitive personal information. "The Attorney General and the FBI are part of the problem and they cannot be trusted to be part of the solution," said Anthony D. Romero, the ACLU's executive director."

I know, the ACLU is so evil. They want a judge to be involved in, you know, making judgement calls and interpreting law. Wait, remind me again what it is judges are for?



Now, this is not tin-foil hat news for me. I sincerely doubt the FBI has spent much time tracking me. If they did, they would be very bored. "she ate pizza for dinner... again?!?!" "Look at this, boss! She bought $26 of groceries today!" (can they tell it's mostly beer?) "she's googled 'fancy pigeons' fifteen times this month! Is it a code for some terrorist cell operation?"

But this is so not OK. Are you all ACLU members yet? Wake up; this is important.

Dear Sportbike Rider

It would probably be better if you didn't wear such a puffy jacket, so you can actually see the fact that there is traffic piling up behind you. You know, through those shiny things that are sticking out above your handlebars?

Also, perhaps buying a Hayabusa, just so you could go slow while lanesplitting, was not such a good investment. It would be less embarrassing if you just rode a Hawk, and I could just write you off as someone's nervous girlfriend.

This time: vanity plate "DURBUSA"

You're freaking slow.
And you're an asshole for not checking your mirrors.

Mt. Whitney

need a permit to do this, and this year's permit lottery already happened:

http://www.fs.fed.us/r5/inyo/recreation/wild/mtwhitney.shtml

It might be possible to pick up dates if there are any left, after April 1st.

Perhaps next year.

anyone?

In honor of my dad

I have no idea what this means:

You're the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad!

Daring, risk-taking, and just the slightest bit dangerous, you
have a bold sense of adventure. Unfortunately, you don't really get an
opportunity to pursue real adventure, so you have to settle for the depths
of your imagination. It's a lively imagination, and one that captivates
countless people around you, but sometimes they tire of waiting for you. On
occasion, you've been known to say "Matterhorn Shmatterhorn".


Take the Trains and Railroads Quiz
at RMI Miniature Railroads.

Final

I just found out that someone I know (though not closely) killed himself over this weekend. I saw him a few weeks ago last, watched him play video games by James' bedside. We spoke quietly. I told him I was sorry to hear his mother had passed away. He said "thank you" under his breath while he kept entertaining James with the video games. Several months ago, he'd tinkered a little with my SV. Many nights we shared a little laugh here and there.

I had no idea that he was in such pain. I suppose no one did.

Sobering evening.

Just feels so FINAL. The words didn't even sound right. I expected to hear "got hit by a car," or, "his dad died," or, well, pretty much anything but those words that weren't meant to go together.

I wish I could all of you close tonight. Near and far, however infrequently we see each other, I love and value all of my friends and acquaintances, and, no, an answer this final and this wrong...

Makes me realize again tonight, how little we each know about the personal hell our loved ones are living in. I hope we can reach out into each other's hearts a little better, to fill the void, and stay afloat together.

Goodnight, J.

Seattle

This past weekend, Paul and I went up to Seattle to visit Maggie. My new neice is cute, I guess, but babies of this age aren't all that fun. I was sick, so I didn't, like hold the baby or anything. Mostly she just screamed and pooped and slept. I should have waited a few months if I wanted something more entertaining. Babies don't get interesting until they are a few months older, when they can actually interact. For now, she is a pooping and screaming machine, and she keeps Ben and Megan busy. They are quite possibly the most responsible and engaged parents I've ever seen.

So while they changed, bathed, fed, rocked, and gave bourbon to Maggie (just kidding about the last one, sort of), Paul and I walked around their new neighborhood a bit, and by around, I mean, straight to the pub, and then straight to the cupcake shop.

We screwed around with the cat, G, who is really a dog in kitty clothes.

We drank the beer, lots of it.

I felt a little better just in time to fly home. I just hope I did not get baby or parents sick.

But, but! Tulips ALWAYS go up!

And because I've been telling people about this, and often they just don't seem to believe me, yes. There was a Dutch tulip bubble.

http://www.businessweek.com/2000/00_17/b3678084.htm

http://www.damninteresting.com/?p=469

Oh, I know, "It's different this time." It's always different this time.

Sleeping Dragon, Indeed!

Interesting NY Times article about the Chinese stock market, "slot machine," as they apparently call it:

“I don’t know how to choose a stock,” says a 61-year-old retiree who gave her name as Miss Hou at a local brokerage house a few weeks ago. “But I trust those technology companies. Maybe the names of some companies sound lucky to me, so I choose to buy these stocks.”

oh, my. This is worse than I thought. Maybe they are as stupid as we are?

Hmmm
Apparently, today, my type is this instead:
http://typelogic.com/enfp.html

I am ready for the Seventies now.

I'm Doomed

OK, so everyone knows about Gavin, right" Blah blah blah.

Who cares, right?

However, Gavin has decided to personally pay his (ex)friend's salary until he can get a new job. Oh, that's sweet. Nothing wrong with that.

Tourk is not talking to the press. His representative, Sam Singer, said that Newsom was following through on the commitment he made to Tourk, 35, who has a 3-year-old son. "Alex needs this assistance until he finds whatever he's going to do next. He has a son, a wife and a mortgage," Singer said. "He's highly respected and has many job offers right now, so it shouldn't take long."

Oh, Gavin's thinking of the kids. Don't want that three year old and wife to starve (well, maybe the wife, I mean she is a cheating skank wot outed her adultering partner for reasons I can only guess involve a need to stir shit up and get her name in the paper). 3 year olds eat a lot, and you gotta buy them new clothes all the time. And the mortgage. So how much does it cost to keep your (ex)friend's three year old off the street, Gavin?

San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom has agreed to personally pay $15,000 per month to his former campaign manager, who abruptly quit last week after learning his wife had had an affair with Newsom.

Holy CRAP! $15-THOUSAND DOLLARS?!?!? A MONTH?!?!??! THAT is what it costs to have a small family in these parts?!?!?!?

I am doomed.


As a sidenote, I suspect that makes Ms. Ruby whatever her name is, one of the most expensive "ladies" in town.
I wonder what it costs to bang your buddy's wife in Crockett?

oh, my.

In looking at my sitemeter, I often find it interesting to see how random people found their way to my blog.
Last Friday, someone in Canada ran a google search on "how to firebomb someone apartment" which led them, apparently, to my post about my neighbor. Oh, my.

Well, sir or ma'am, in case you search again, please note that I do not recommend you do this. As noted if you read the entire article, they did catch the guy.

Impossible

I recognize that I need to be strong all the time, but lately, I keep thinking about my grandfather. I miss him terribly, and several times a day, wonder how the world could go on without him. It makes no sense. Of course the world goes on. Of course we fight back tears and move forward. But it doesn't seem possible, at all, that the world could hold itself up when the foundation falls away. Nothing really makes sense, but it appears to be going on around me, with or without him. Even that frustrates and worries me. I just can't imagine it, but there it is.

I guess I'm just extra emotional, these days.

Cry for your help

Dear friends and family,
As some of you know, I am currently working through the process of trying to figure out what I ought to do with my life. Again. (If this is news to you: I hate the place my career has taken me. If you're curious, I can explain more to you in detail)

Part of this process involves an inquiry into who I am, and what my true talents are. I have been thinking about it a great deal on my own, but I also think that sometimes we are not best poised to recognize our own talents (and weaknesses) objectively. Because of that, I am sincerely asking for the help of all those who know.

The world is wide open with opportunities and paths, and I'm trying to choose mine.

There's a difference between skills and talents. Skills, I can figure out pretty well: I have fabulous Illustrator skills; I lack cooking skills. That's easy. Talents are harder. I'm told I have a talent for writing; I think I have a talent for learning; I'm told I have a good voice for singing. I feel I lack the talent of negotiation and sales; I'm a really terrible dirtbike rider. Forcing these things, I could get better at them, but the natural talent is not there.

I'm asking now, if you have anything to add to my consideration, please take a moment to give me some input: Is there some talent, skill, or weakness you have seen in me that I might add to my inquiry into what path I might follow? Have you seen me do something better than others might have done it? It could be a practical, defined talent, or something sort of fuzzy and nebulous. Any input is appreciated.

If nothing springs to mind, please disregard this message. I'm not looking for forced answers or a stretch of your imagination. I just know that some of the people I know have a better objective look at me, and would like their valued input.


Thanks for reading, and thanks for helping

Credit whores

Hello Houston, we have a problem:

2006 Personal Savings Drop to 74-Yr. Low

The Commerce Department reported Thursday that the savings rate for all of 2006 was a negative 1 percent, meaning that not only did people spend all the money they earned but they also dipped into savings or increased borrowing to finance purchases. The 2006 figure was lower than a negative 0.4 percent in 2005 and was the poorest showing since a negative 1.5 percent savings rate in 1933 during the Great Depression.

OK, this really bothers me. What the fuck are you people buying? What could be so important? Big screen TVs? Hermes handbags? The new iPod? Cable TV? All of this crap is more important to you than, oh personal and national security, retirement, responsibility?

Economists have put forward various reasons to explain the current lack of savings. These range from a feeling on the part of some people that they do not need to save because of the run-up in their investments such as homes and stock portfolios to an effort by many middle-class wage earners to maintain their current lifestyles even though their wage gains have been depressed by the effects of global competition.

Oh, I get it, you don't need to save, because your house is "worth" 5x what you paid for it (with your stated income, option-ARM loan, but details, schmetails!)

My savings rate is well, well into double digits, more than a little. OK, so my salary is low, so maybe a normal Bay Area salary would only have to save a few percent to keep up with me.

I don't have cable TV. I find the idea that I should PAY to watch TV, utterly ridiculous. TV is a waste of time anyway-- I will not pay for that. Hey, when I was a kid, cable TV didn't have commercials-- that's why you paid for it. Now? Um? Why should I pay to watch this crap? My television is the size of a large toaster, and it was given to me about ten years ago since I didn't have one at all. Again, why have a larger one? I don't want TV to be the focal point of my life, so why should it be the focal point of my living room?

I live in a place that's small and won't move until I can do so responsibly. Everyone who bought into "housing can only go up" is in for a rude awakening if they bought with an irresponsible financial plan. "I'll just pay interest-only and sell it in two years for a profit" is not a financial plan. It's called speculation, and you will get burned. Median incomes haven't gone up much, what makes you think there will be a greater fool to buy your overpriced specu-home? I mean, I'll be happy to buy it from the bank, later.

I rarely have the latest thing. I finally bought my bottom-of-the-line iBook (with a student discount) after like 8 years with the old Mac. That's a dinosaur, considering I do use it for graphics and all. I will ride my motorcycles into the ground and then buy again and repeat. I can't tell you how many times I've been in a conversation with some dingus that is trying to keep the miles off of their zooty new bike so the value doesn't go down. Hey, dumbass, how about buying a bike you like, that you will ride for a while, instead of trying to turn it over and buy the latest one every year? Bikes don't retain much value anyway. STUPID.

I have a credit card, which I use frequently. Most people would tell you to look for a low rate card, but I could give a shit. Who cares what the rate is when you pay it off every month? Paying interest on crap you bought is stupid. You should only pay interest on important purchases (education, a solid home purchase, maybe a car), not clothes you've already gotten tired of and gadgets that are already broken and outdated by the time the bill comes. Anyone paying the minimum due on a credit card is an idiot. You are making some rich guy richer, at a great detriment to yourself. Congratulations. Enjoy the big-screen TV. Remember how you got such a screaming deal on it before Christmas? Guess what, you're going to pay three times that amount in interest. Yay.


Why this upsets me is that our central bank and other guv'mint institutions are, I have little doubt, going to try to bail your sorry asses out come judgement day. Did you lie on your mortgage form about your income and sign up for a loan you didn't bother to understand? Oh, POOR YOU! Did you use this funny money to drive up home prices to the point where responsible people couldn't buy homes? Did you use that extra "equity" to buy an SUV or a trip to Maui? BOO FUCKING HOO. Are you now complaining about gas prices? Get a bicycle! Live responsibly for once, buy what you can afford. No, buy LESS than you can afford. If you feel that savings bothers you, give the extra to charity. Please for the love of god, sock it away for your retirement, cuz I do not want to pay for your sorry, freeloading ass.

Whatever the reason for the low savings, economists warn that it the phenomenon exists at a particularly bad time with 78 million baby boomers approaching retirement age. Instead of building up savings to use during retirement, baby boomers are continuing to spend all their earnings.

Boomers are only a few years from retirement. What the hell are they thinking? Instead of healthcare and security in their golden years, they would like to have some crap from Chinamart? A Precious Moments figurine collection, a surround-sound stereo, a breadmaker machine, a BMW... oh, and: Why on earth are kids this age even driving BMWs and Lexuses?

(01-30) 10:30 PST PETALUMA -- A 24-year-old Petaluma man is in the hospital with major injuries after a fight Monday afternoon involving two couples, a car chase, a baseball bat and, finally, a car crash.

The incident began shortly before 4 p.m., when two Petaluma women, a 17-year-old and a 22-year-old, got into a physical fight on the 400 block of Ely Boulevard South, Petaluma police Sgt. Matthew Stapleton said. Police are not naming the women.

The 22-year-old left the scene of the fight in a BMW sedan, closely followed by the 17-year-old, who was driving a Lexus sedan.

What is wrong with you people? Spending money does not make you cool. Keeping up with the Joneses just means you are constantly one step behind them anyway. Did you ever stop to think maybe the Joneses have more money than you? Or perhaps that they are also destroying their own lives with credit abuse? Hope you and the Joneses repay your debt all the way to the poorhouse together.

PUT THE CREDIT CARDS DOWN, PEOPLE! YOUR HOUSE IS NOT AN INVESTMENT. A FLASHY CAR IS NOT WORTH YOUR RETIREMENT FUND.

And get the hell off my lawn.

tribe

I've detoxed from tribe.net for a few weeks. I realized I was arguing with people I thought were stupid, about things I don't really care about.

That makes *me* stupid.

Besides, I'm busy these days.
I'm back to studying the putong hua again, and spending any other "free" time doing a structured exploration of what the heck I want to do with my life.

I know I do not want to do this any more.
I really just want to work with intelligent, nice people, in a place where I'm challenged and constantly learning, and problem-solving with visible results of my hard work and brainpower.

There, that was easy.

Oh, yeah, boatloads of money and a company car (which I'll promptly crash since I don't know how to drive) would be nifty too. And a free pen with the company logo.

I know I ride a girls bike, but...

I got stuck behind an Aprilia on the bridge this morning. Another SV650 got stuck behind us. When we finally passed by going a few lanes over, the Aprilia rider finally found the gear shifter and decided to race. That's a lot money to spend on being so slow and stupid.

Maybe he didn't want to speed up until he was on land near a dealership, lest one of his parts fall off?

Roommates

I got bogged down.
The Epiphany party was great. The next day Charles came over and we made baby blankets. All was spectacular.
Monday night, I was awoken by my noisy neighbors around 1am.
Not a big deal, but then the rustling in the kitchen. Yes, I do indeed have a roommate.

I knew it a few weeks before. Around 5am one morning, too much rustling of plastic bags or something... too much to be just the wind or something I stacked poorly.
I told myself maybe there was a mouse. I imagined my mouse was cute, shiny, full-coated, with long eyelashes and a charming smile.

But at 1am, with the kitchen trash roughly 5 feet from my head, I couldn't ignore it.
My thought was that if I turned the light on, threw some crap into the kitchen, waited a few minutes, my roommate would go away, not wanting to come face-to-face.

Then I went and wahsed a few dishes. Washing dishes calms me, and I decided that after I finished, I'd go back to sleep. And I was calmed, and as I put the last pot onto the dish dryer rack, my roomate scurried from the refrigerator across to the other corner, just where I could see him. I even yelped a little bit, but quietly, so as not to wake the (paying) neighbors. Now I was wide awake. And if that wasn't bad enough, my rommate whacked into the wall (clutz!) and then proceeded to rustle around rahter loudly for a minute or two. Sheesh! Just shut the hell up already, noisy little bastard!

I called Paul and was at his house within a half an hour, around 2am-something.

Long story short is that the roomate is not a problem, at least not in my apartment, anymore. We locked it out. Apparently, the building and block are infested, and my apartment managers have been fighting them valiently. They'll be gone soon. But at least it's not my problem any more.

I mean, it's not that I have anything against Rats, I just don't want them in my house.

Those darn neighbors!

It's really my fault that I found my neighbors on a porn site. I mean, if they allow you to sort the models by geographic area, that's pretty much just asking for it, right?

I didn't need to see that, but I do recognize that it's nobody's fault but mine.

Should I start calling them by their porn names?

These are the People in Your Neighborhood

This guy used to live in my apartment building.
I would see him daily sweeping in the hallway and foyer.
I always thought he was a little weird, but it wasn't until the fire on the floor above me that I found out how weird he was, more importantly, WHO he was...

what's not mentioned in this article is that the whole Bush St. apartment thing came to light when one night in the wee hours, the fire alarm went off, which, in a large building like mine, happens more often than it should, and frequently just because of bored teenagers. Expecting to be greeted once again by a lot of people coming out in their PJ's to a non-event followed by a return to bed, I threw on some clothes, opened my door, and was greeted by smoke. But not a lot of heat, or flames, or anything of that nature. So I investigated. Went up one floor and there, on the floor in front of the apartment one floor up and on the opposite side of the hallway (this doorway would face me if I were on the 3rd floor instead of the 2nd) was a bottle, like a wine bottle, with smoke coming out. The door it sat in front of was charred black (burned, not smoked) but not on fire. Most importantly, the sprinkler system was going off. WHOA! and DAMN! Because a.) someone set this fire, and b.) the sprinklers were destroying the building.

I ran down and scurried to remove anything that was in that area of my apartment. the water was gushing in from the ceiling. In the hallway, the rectangle slats of the ceiling were disintegrating and bursting out. Firemen finally rushed in to do whatever they do when there isn't really a fire anymore. The water gushed through even to the floor below me. In the end, they had to rip out the bathroom and redo it, and the hallway carpets, and do this thing where they drilled a bunch of holes in the walls and used some machines to dry them out on all three floors.

Creepy?

a day or so later, the fire department or police department ( I can't remember now) called me to find out what I had seen. I told them, and asked if they found anyone. they told me they were investigating to find out what caused the fire. I was like, "um, maybe the firebomb someone planted in front of that door?!?"

The following Thursday I came home from visiting a friend at SFMC to find a big white van double parked in front of my building. The white van had a wide black stripe on it, with big white block letters
"BOMB SQUAD"
As I walked up the stairs, I could see men carrying out assloads of stuff and some computers.
I turned around and went back to SFMC for a bit.

The next day I asked my apartment manager what was going on, as this was starting to make me feel uneasy at home. He told me that there was an investigation to see how the fire started. I told him I saw what started it. I asked him why the bomb squad was there last night. He told me the bomb squad had not been there, but there were detectives. I felt like I was being lied to. Maybe the DETECTIVE car was out of gas, so they borrowed the BOMB SQUAD van? The funny thing was, my apartment manager (who was always kind of a dick) started going on this tirade about "this is what happens when people let people into the building." He was stuck on the idea that non-residents were getting let in all the time. Ironically, HE was the one that rented to this guy.

A few days later, one of my coworkers mentioned she saw an article about a fire, and showed it to me. I still have it somewhere. Yes, that's my building! Holy SHIT, that's the weird creepy guy I see in the hallway all the time. OMFG, that's the guy who burnt his son! Even *I* remember that, and I was like 6 years old when that was news. If it weren't for Jamie catching that in the paper, I would never know what happened in my building.

So, what's not mentioned in the article below, about the Bush St building, is that he (or, someone else, I guess they never proved it?) set a little firebomb in front of the door of a couple of girls he had been stalking. He was also charged with, as I recall, some sort of breaking and entering and stealing debit and credit cards from some of the apartments. I guess none of that ever went anywhere, but they did find a gun and a bunch of ammo on my nutjob psychotic creepyman neighbor. And that during his time at Bush St, he had been working at an IHOP in (I think) North Beach or Marina or somewhere, and carrying a picture of his son (pre-burn, I assume) and telling coworkers that his son died of leukemia.

And so here's to Charley Charles...


from sfgate

Man who burned son could get life
Court says he had 3 strikes, orders new sentencing hearing

A man who tried to burn his 6-year-old son to death in 1983 is eligible for a life sentence under the three-strikes law for two weapons convictions in San Francisco, a state appeals court ruled Thursday.

Charley Charles will get one more chance to persuade a San Francisco Superior Court judge to set aside one of his past convictions and sentence him to less than the three-strikes term of 25 years to life. But the First District Court of Appeal agreed with prosecutors Thursday that the judge was wrong when she ruled last year that she had no authority to sentence Charles as a third-striker.

Charles, now 66, was known as Charles Rothenberg when, after a custody dispute with his wife, he took his son to an Orange County motel, gave him at least one sleeping pill, doused him with kerosene and set him on fire. The boy survived but was badly disfigured and had part of his fingers amputated. The father was convicted of attempted murder and arson and sentenced to 13 years in prison.

He was released in 1990 after serving half his sentence, was paroled to Oakland and later moved to San Francisco. After another arrest and a final jailhouse meeting with his son -- who, according to a statement he released, told Rothenberg he was an impostor and not the youth's father -- Rothenberg changed his name to Charley Charles in 1998. He also bought a handgun, which he said he needed for protection after someone shot at him on Market Street in 1995.

Charles was arrested in June 2001 and charged with being a felon in possession of the handgun as well as 44 rounds of ammunition, which police found in a fanny-pack in his Bush Street apartment. He was convicted of both charges, and has also been charged with credit card fraud and with making telephone threats from jail in 2005 to the prosecutor in the weapons case.

Under the 1994 three-strikes law, Charles faced a potential life sentence for the weapons convictions because of his two 1983 convictions. But Superior Court Judge Cynthia Lee ruled in April 2005 that Charles' arson and attempted murder convictions had to be considered only one strike because they arose from the same act.

Saying the three-strikes law was made for someone like Charles, Lee nevertheless sentenced him as a second-striker to seven years and four months in prison.

In Thursday's ruling, however, the appeals court said Charles' 1983 convictions were both strikes because they involved multiple acts -- taking his son to the motel, giving him a sleeping pill, attempting to murder him and setting fire to the motel -- and multiple victims: his son and the motel owner.

Rather than imposing a 25-years-to-life sentence, the court ordered another sentencing hearing to let Lee decide whether to dismiss one of the strikes.

Does this bike make my bike look fat?

When I set out looking for the SV, I loudly complained that everyone was trying to jack their prices and list all the great mods they'd done. "I just want a stock bike," I insisted.

Well, it was true.
I didn't want to pay for the most common mods, like carbon fiber widgets and expensive exhaust crap.

So, after Christmas, which brought me a few more doohickeys for the SV, I am now astounded at how my bike got so bloated with aftermarket bling.

1.) lowered seat (came with the bike from previous owner. Nice, but my knees are a bit cramped. But with the stock seat I *may* have tip-toe issues.)
2.) Some front springs I already forgot about (came with the bike from previous owner)
3.) Tank bra. I don't know why. It seemed like a good idea at the time?
4.) Suzuki windscreen (replacing the cute but not-good-for-distance aftermarkt flyscreen that came with the bike from the previous owner)
5.) Heated vest plug. Well, duh. I'm not a sucker, are you a sucker?
6.) Used gixxer shock. This is nice. Phil from Aftershocks does good stuff. He also serviced the front, but no *bling* added there.
7.) Renthal bars. Wait, they are renthal, right? This is because I actually bent two other pairs of bars: the stock ones, and the ones Paul gave me since I bent the stock ones.
8.) Barkbusters. Silly, but cute.
9.) Loud horn. this rocks, except when it doesn't. When it works, it's loud and great. But often iot doesn't work at all. feh. And they're mounted up front where they look like big red earrings. Or else, maybe I'm crazy.
10.) Scottoiler. I am teh lazy. And having no garage or center stand, chain maintanence was getting sorely neglected.
11.) Headlight modulator. Yay!
12.) Center stand. Paul says this will make changing the tires easier. Does that mean my mimosa will pour itself?
13.) Givi rack and ginormous topcase. I literally can't see around the thing one one side. But I can go grocery shopping! And bring home all that wine I bought last time I went drinking, er, I mean, wine tasting, with my dad!
14.) I've just been reminded that I also have frame sliders. These are a necessity, what with the SV's crashiness, and all. I bought them at MotoJava, can't remeber the brand, but I have tested them, and they help a LOT.


but god forbid it should ever fall over. I think I need to install some sort of scissor-lift lever thingie on the side(s). that would be cool.

Critter...

...is now Margaret Caroline Turner
11:49 pm, January 3rd, 2007
She weighed 8 pounds, 1.7 ounces
measured 19.5 inches long

I know nothing about babies, but my mom tells me that's sort of big-ish.
Congratulations Ben & Megan! Now mom can stop hassling me for grandchildren!

I'm an Ayi!

I will now start collecting for her ribbon allowance & cedar chest.

jouYour Type is
ENFJ
Extroverted Intuitive Feeling Judging
Strength of the preferences %
67 50 25 33

http://keirsey.com/personality/nfej.html
http://typelogic.com/enfj.html

2006 (good riddance)

1. What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
I baked my first pie
I saw a bald eagle in the wild
I made my first web page
I spoke at a wake
I met a friendly pigeon



2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I've never been one for New Year's resolutions. I did set a financial goal, which I've done well with, and will continue.
I talked about short and long term goals with Paul. I guess those could be New Year's resolutions:
-New Career
-Learn Chinese (quantitatively: I want to be conversational and understand movies)
-Sew more (quantitatively: I want to finish at least one project a month, and not be afraid to tackle a wedding dress should a friend want me to make theirs. I felt bad having to say I couldn't.)
-Travel (quantitatively: One big trip out of the country, and several short trips on the weekend)



3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes. And my brother's wife is about to pop.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes. My grandfather, John Pulskamp, a man the likes of which the world will never see again.

5. What countries did you visit?
I got as far as the check-in at the International Terminal.


6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2008?
Still, from last year this time: a new place to live.
Also, travel, success.

7. What date from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
May 27th, 2006. Excitement, shock, disappointment, anger. To say nothing of the truly horrible thing that happened that day, which I didn't find out about for a week. (oh, yeah, and that fucking CHP officer with a lisp. I'm just glad someone else punched him the face already.)

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Not buckling.


9. What was your biggest failure?
Didn't nag enough. Failed to line up all the ducks. Failed to move on and make the best of what was left. Biggest failure: failure to get a new career.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No. I got a really good bruise crashing at the GP track on Charles' recommendation.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
A headlight modulator for Paul.
and a new Pfaff sewing machine for myself.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Paul's. He took care of me when I was trying to do everything, for everyone. He didn't get mad when I took care of things at the cost of our own sanity.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Still BushCo. I mean, how far can this thing go?


14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent, motorcycle, food. Savings. I should eat out less.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Isle of Man. Looking forward to seeing James race. Looking forward to leaving my job. Baking pie. Christmas music.

16. What songs/bands will always remind you of 2006?
I dunno. I'm not a very musically-inclined person.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?
Sadder.

ii. thinner or fatter?
Fatter.

iii. richer or poorer?
Richer

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Riding my motorcycle. Seeing my friends. Having adventures.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Working, feeling sorry for myself.


20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent it with family, same as always. But no grandpa, changed everything.

22. Did you fall in love in 2005?
Every day.

23. How many one night stands?
No.

24. What were your favorite TV programs?
I almost never watch TV any more. We did Tivo, and watch, a tribute to the Yule Log. I also watched a whole lot of Arrested Development on DVD.


(what happened to 25?)


26. What was the best book you read?
Wild Swans. About 3 generations of women in China.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I'm really starting to enjoy that Wo Ai Ni song, but that's so 2005.

28. What did you want and get?
Two sewing machines: one which I needed in order to sew, and an antique, which is beautiful and serves no purpose.

29. What did you want and not get?
A lot. Isle Of Man, Cliffs of Moher, Guinness in Dublin. Learning to drive on the wrong side of the road in a Panda.

30. What was your favorite film(s) of this year?
I don't think we saw anything in the theater? So I'll have to go with any of the bad chinese movies I've been renting from netflix to practice my Mandarin. Like, Hero, or Warriors of Heaven and Earth.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I think we went to Saha or something. I turned 29. This year I want to be with friends and stuff.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A passport.
or
A couple more months.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
Concept... I'm cold a lot at work, so it's all about scarf, gloves, sweater at my desk. Also, toe socks. I love toe socks.

34. What kept you sane?
Paul. Otherwise, I surely would have lost it around August.

35. Which celebrity/public figure(s) did you fancy the most?
How about Warren Buffet? He seems pretty cool.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Fighting the rollback of freedom in the name of security. Killing the un-American "Patriot Act." ACLU is the best, and I am a card-carrying member.

37. Who did you miss?
Grandpa. James.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
New person...? I guess I don't get out much. Jesse and Amy? Quinn? Saul? Emiko?

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006.
It can't always be good times, but how we get along and through in those not-good times is the stuff our character and relationships are truly made of.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
But take your time, think a lot,
Why, think of everything you've got.
For you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not.

First Christmas Tree!

It's almost that time, and, well I'm a sucker for Christmas. Really any excuse to hang out with my family is a good time, but Christmas is just more. I have spent the past few weeks listening to Christmas music non-stop, baking the hell out of some Christmas cookies (we baked double batches of 12 kinds of cookies two weekends ago at the Turner Compound), and wondering what to get for the people in my life. When people tell me they hate Christmas, it makes me angry. I don't want to hear that. If you aren't enjoying it, you're not doing it right, and that's a personal problem, not Christmas' fault.

So Paul and I got a Christmas tree (a first!) and decorated it at his house. The cat hasn't knocked it over yet, and it has yet to catch fire.

Last weekend we had dinner with the folks (mine and Paul's mom) at Priya, the oh-so-yummy Indian restaurant near Paul's house. Sunday, we went to the International Motorcycle Show in San Mateo. Which was bigger than last year, but a lot of it was crap. I witnessed the ugliest motorcycle I have ever seen, and wouldn't you know, it had a little sign next to it saying that it had been voted #1 best in show? The most offensively ugly motorcycle I've ever seen in my life, hands down. The best thing was a 50cc cafe racer a guy had made so his two-year-old son could have a bike that matched daddy's restoration project bike. So cute. And, well, a whole lot of fun stuff over at the Husqevarna booth! We entertained the idea of dual-sport sidehack riding again for a bit, then jumped around on some ATVs and a Honda Ruckus. I got some stickers and signed up to win all kinds of crap. Which I never win. We saw people, and that was nice.

I'm pretty sure one of those Husky motards will be in my Christmas stocking? Or maybe that's why Paul put the tree on a table, so bike could fit under it...


I, of course, never got around to making Christmas cards, so consider this yours.


Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, quit your complaining.

Babytown

Saturday we went down to San Joser to see friends who we have not seen in way, way too long. I am so sad I haven't spent more time with my friends lately, whatever the reasons are. However, I am a little scared of the fact that it seems like I blinked, and parties are now baby parties. There were like a million babies there. That is frightening. Charles took some time out to offer some career advice outside, and we were joined by all the other folks that were skeered of babytown. I guess I am of that age now? Where everyone else starts having babies? I do not know the first thing about the little creatures, so I hope this does not mean we'll drift apart.

Sunday I got to hang out with my sister, who is now happily back to her own last name and officially dee-vorced! Yay!

We went to the Dickens Fair, which was a lot of fun, and I ran into a few people I know.

I feel so overbusy these days, but I can't quite put my finger on the "why." My class is pretty unintrusive, and the hours flexible. I am tempted to do two classes next semester, and also tempted to do none at all. Chinese is so hard, especially with the semester I took off to forget everything... It would be nice to have time to sew, now that I have a new sewing machine. It would be even nicer to keep seeing people I mean to see. But when?

Worthless

I decided to get a handle on my finances a year or two ago. This year's big goal was to get my net worth to zero.

I know, yes. ZERO.

I have student loans. this is something our country has decided is a good thing: crippling college graduates with outrageous loans, and discouraging potential college students from saddling themselves with a debt and education. Educated masses are no good for the route we are on anyway.

but, whatever.

I have reached my goal: I am worthless. The positives slightly outweigh the negatives. (and, no, I did not pay off my student loans. I am too smart for that: the interest rate is lower than my savings account interest rate, and student loan interest is tax-decuctible.)

December is the time when I need to map out my goals for next year, but with career change hanging in the balance, I may actually end up bogging back down into the red. Leverage, I hope, for a future payout. But for now, I am just where I hoped to be: worthless.

Thanksgiving

I got hung up on posting because I got stuck at Thanksgiving. Normally, I have a lot of thanks at the ready, but frankly, this past year hasn't been the kind you would be readily thankful for. Should I be thankful for the disastrous ending to my dream of going to the Isle of Man? How about thankful for one of my best friends being in the hospital with a major head injury and no good prognosis (I still think he'll do well, just slowly)? Maybe about my grandfather passing quickly and too soon. And then sprinkle in the crappy work environment I suffered for months, the bleak occupational outlook and accompanying feelings of being trapped and being a failure, the speeding tickets, the weight gain and generally feeling like ass, the horrible luck we showered onto my brother's house, the inability to move into a new place, and, gee, while I'm feeling sorry for myself, we lost the good cats!

Well, OK, you know, all said and done, this has been a shit year. So the thanks didn't come readily, but where I can find them, they are meaningful.

I'm thankful for the late night conversation I had with James when he crashed at my house. I got to tell him exactly how much he meant to me, point blank. I'm thankful that I showed him how much I admired him. I'm thankful that sitting on the couch at the SFMC alone one evening, he said to me "that's the nicest compliment anyone's ever given me." Because I don't think we'll ever have those times again. But I made myself known. James was one of those presences that changed my life for the better. I'm glad I told him that when I had the chance.

I'm thankful for the home and family that my grandfather built for me. I'm thankful for the wisdom and meaning he passed on to me, for the time we got to spend basking in his character and frighteningly broad intellect. I'm thankful for all the love, and for the love I witnessed him giving to the world at large. I'm thankful for all the too-strong hugs and the courage he's given by example. Mostly, I'm thankful for the last time Paul and I made it up there to help with the garden and enjoy my grandparents without the rest of the noise when we had the chance. There's just not always another chance when you think there will be.

I'm thankful for the courage I've been given, to tell people what the mean to me, in the time that I have with them.

I can't find too much thanks for missing out on the Isle of Man, but I did learn this, and it's got to be worth it:
Paul and I have had a lot of good times, so many it seems unreal. But good times are easy, and it's easy to love someone when times are good.
I'm thankful for the knowledge that Paul and I can withstand extreme stress. I know what it looks like when we are angry at each other. I know how Paul will care for me when I overextend myself, when I have great loss, when I feel overwhelmed, or face failure.



Overwhelmingly, this has been a shit year. Next year, I hope to be thankful for much less heavy things, but for now, these will do.

um, OK

Which File Extension are You?

Now we'll just have to start buying raccoon food

Last night we realized that the good cats moved out.
I'm terribly sad I won't hear Squeeky's big, manly "mew" or Fluffy's pathetic "ack" anymore, and there won't be anymore piling into the hammock with cats.

poo.

For we may and might never

Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

One of Uncle Carl's kids or grandkids, or someone, got married at Chaminade a few years back. It was a beautiful ceremony, and I was there with my parents and my grandparents. During the reception, the DJ announced for all the married couples to get up and come to the dance floor, and then dance. My parents and grandparents went up and danced for a bit. Then the DJ asked for those who'd been married 10 years or more to remain while the rest sat down. Then 20 years or more. Then 25, 30, 35... and soon my grandparents were the only ones left. But they still had a long way to go. 40, 45, 50, 60!

The image of the two of them up there dancing alone while everyone cheered (and they did cheer!) will always stick with me. In all the noise and ruckus, there was just my grandmother, smiling in the arms and eyes of my grandpa. They were so proud and happy that day. I think the bride actually gave her bouquet to my grandmother instead of throwing it to the unmarried women. (at least that's how my mother remembers it) When they came back to the table, they were a little tired, and a lot ecstatic.

After the wedding, my grandfather made us all drive to Marianne's to get ice cream. I thought it was a place they'd been recently or regularly, but in fact it was another of those things my grandpa had done once many years ago, and kept filed in his encyclopedic brain. Worth it; I am hooked forever, and going there always will remind me of Grandpa.

My grandparents were preparing to celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary this December 27th. We were all excited, and preparations were being made. Invitation postcards were already mailed. 65 years of marriage is so rare, and 65 years of happy marriage... We all were so excited.

And in the end, it was pretty sudden. My grandfather was out cleaning up sides of highways, having meetings, going door-to-door campaigning for local ballot issues and his favorite congressman. He had climbed Mt. Whitney a few times. He was a strong, hearty man, who gave painfully slappy hugs right up until he didn't anymore. Paul seemed surprised that I didn't take what would have been the last bit of peanut butter for my waffle the last time we visited. Normally, I'd do just that, but you just didn't take Grandpa's peanut butter. Even *I* wouldn't do it. He wasn't the sort of man you'd want to upset.

My grandfather was a champion bellower. He would famously declare at the end of the evening, when parties were still in full swing, "I'm tired, everybody go to bed." And they would.

One of my favorite memories of my grandfather is the time I got to go to a Peace rally march, before the war in Iraq started. Grandpa, my mother, myself, and my cousin's daughter, all got to go together. Four generations, and I know my grandfather was proud. When can I grow into a person I feel would really be worthy of his pride?

For all his loud showy strength and power, my grandmother is the quiet, soft voice that reigned him in and made sense of his life. I cannot imagine my grandfather without her. I grew up in the world they built for all of us; my strength comes from them; my sense of right and just comes from them; my love of peanut butter and family come from them. My big, strong eyebrows come from Grandpa. We've all been trying to cultivate his eyebrows on our own faces. I hope I can cultivate his sense of responsibility, justice, and service as well.

Recently, my grandparents went to a charity auction where one of the prizes was a part in the local drama school (or club, or whatever)'s play. One of the local winemakers actually started bidding on the part, for my grandmother to have the part. My grandmother has been a teacher all her life, by calling, and when I was a child, was very active in getting the kids into drama (specifically, the Wizard of Oz, but I also remember her taking me to see The King and I which one of her students was in). They won the auction, soo that my grandmother would be in the local play, and my grandfather, who is notoriously frugal (well, he is a child of the Great Depression, and wasn't a big spender) got so excited by it, that he started bidding on a prize of the local drama/singing students coming to the winner's house or event to sing "There's no Business Like Show Business." Totally out of character for Grandpa to spend money on such a thing, but, see, he adored his Kay, in a way that outweighed every practical bone in his body. For all his brashness and loud grumpy-face show, Grandpa was a man who lived every deed and thought in love.

It's hard now, to wake up to the reality that Grandpa won't be there to ask who left their glass half full on the table, or look for that piece of paper (he's spent most of his life looking for a piece of paper). I can't imagine that we won't be told where to go (15 miles out of the way) to get cheaper gas. My uncle said it best, that whenever you didn't know something, you could just ask grandpa. Now who will we ask? Who will jump up from every dinner to grab an encyclopedia, almanac, atlas, or dictionary?

I miss him so much.

and all I have is, that, we did make it out there once this year. I meant to go again, though. But things aren't always where you left them; things won't always be there next time. My grandparents have always been my heroes, and I wish I'd made more time, to be there, to absorb everything, all the stories, all the wisdom, all the character.

Don't let it pass you by, and always tell the people that matter, how much they mean to you.

From the Amador Ledger Dispatch:




John Joseph Pulskamp, an honorable and honest man born in Pittsburg, PA, December 17, 1920 died shortly after midnight on the morning of October 31, 2006 in Jackson, CA. His wife, Kay, is doing well, confident in her faith and appreciative of their sixty-five years together. He spent his last hours in relative comfort, surrounded by his loving family, singing to him and recalling stories from the beautiful life they shared. The impact of his life is large and will continue through his children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and many friends.

Retired from the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power, John and his wife, retired teacher Caroline (Kay) Pulskamp moved to Sutter Creek in 1994. Locally, John was active in the Immaculate Conception Men's Club, the county Democrats club, the Knights of Columbus, the Duck Race, and Call To Action of Northern California (an organization of progressive Catholics).

John is survived by his wife, Kay, five of his children: John Richard Pulskamp (and wife Betty Rose Pulskamp), Ellen Jean Pulskamp-Turner (and husband Ray Turner), Patricia Theresa Busch (and husband Ron Busch), Mary Catherine Pulskamp (and husband Robert Lockhart), and Michael Ignatius Pulskamp (and wife Debra). Their oldest daughter, Carol Ann Pulskamp, died April 29, 2003. John has seventeen grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren with a new great-grandchild, currently known only as Critter, due on John and Kay's 65th wedding anniversary, December 27, 2006.

Asked how he wanted to be remembered he said, "I tried to help." What more can a person offer?

John will be Lying in State at his home until Saturday morning. A vigil and wake will be held at the home Friday evening, starting at 7:00 PM. A Funeral Mass will be celebrated on Saturday, November 4, 11:00 AM at Immaculate Conception Church, Sutter Creek with a reception at the family home following the service. The church is at 125 Amelia Street Sutter Creek. The home is at 290 Gold Strike Court in Sutter Creek. All are welcome.

John would be honored with donations to: Jericho, 926 J Street #410, Sacramento, CA 95814 or to Sutter-Amador Hospital 200 Mission Boulevard Jackson, CA 95642


Services provided by: Mc Crory's of Pine Grove

John J. Pulskamp died yesterday morning just after midnight.

He was the tallest man I'll ever know, an inspiration, and a yardstick few in this world could ever measure up to.

His wake will be held this Friday in Sutter Creek, and his funeral will follow Saturday morning.

I'm so glad they solved the meth problem though

I have been foiled AGAIN by the goddam cold medicine company.

I keep buying cold medicine and forgetting that the manufacturers took out all the useful ingredients in order to stop people from making meth. Which totally worked by the way. Nope, you absolutely cannot get meth anywhere anymore. (file this next to the TSA banning lip gloss: making life worse for those of us who don't know or care, while the perpetrators just work around.)

Last time I got sick and my Nyquil wasn't doing shit for me, I was thrilled to learn that Paul, who almost never gets sick, still had some of the old-style nyquil at his house. That shit WORKED! But now it's gone, and I accidentally got suckered into buying this useless overpriced crap again.

I hate you, Dayquil.

Yes, I'm super sick again. I don't know why, but apparently I have a really weak immune system.

Where should you go, if your home won't have you?

I've come, again, to the conclusion that I cannot afford to live here.

On a day-to-day basis it's all fine, but I know that it can only be day-to-day. Yes, including living in the same apartment, now 11 years, and having to stay here for another 11 or 22, or maybe more like 55?

Rents are too high to move; homeownership is a joke. I have no meaningful gains in earnings in sight.

Staying here means just living day-to-day.

Last year I made a goal and laid groundwork to clean up my financial house. And then I did. But I can see that things being as they are, I can't make any real progress.

About a year ago I started thinking about buying a place. Everyone seemed to be doing it. I guess I figured I was around that age or stage in my life...

But a little research showed something much weirder going on. The majority of these people took out toxic loans, or are living in buildings they bought with strangers... I'm too financially conservative to consider either of these options.

But it will take a long time to correct itself, and I do think prices will remain sticky on the downside, for a long time. I don't know enough for this to matter, but my uneducated guess would be winter of 2008 would be a nice time to buy. Maybe even later.

In case you don't know, wages have been stagnant for several years.
The US savings rate dipped below 0% recently.
Millions of dollars of ARMs are set to adjust next year.
Trillions the year after that.

So it has to come down.

But this is life, not investing. If the best time to buy is in 2011, shall I put my life on hold until then? What if it isn't until 2015? I'll be 38 before I can move out of this apartment?


I don't see any future of much better salaries in my current career path. I don't have a clue what else I can do. I assume I'd have to go back to school, but I don't even know for what? Could I afford to go back to school? Would it be another mistake?

I know there are a few manufacturers in the Seattle and Portland areas I could pursue, but I don't know how the salaries stack up there. I really couldn't see myself living in LA. New York would probably be a similar problem, although I know the salaries there for my position would be nearly double.

The vision I have for my ideal is working in downtown SF, living in the downtown or Potrero Hill or possibly Hayes Valley/Duboce areas... Mainly, specifically, walking to work or taking a bus down Market St. if needed.

But it's meaningless if wages and housing can't line up. I really can't stay.

Firehouse

Jesse, are you listening???
it's finally on the block!

#5437290

Dear Cager,
There are two reasons you should be in the left lane:
1.) You are passing that guy, right there.
2.) You are an asshole.

Please advise.

Thanks
Passedyou Ontheright

Another horrible day in the City

OK.
It's possible that I maybe drank a little too much beer yesterday. But just a little too much, thankfully, and not a LOT too much.

We made mimosas and walked out to the waterfront on Sunday to watch the air show and the Blue Angels. Although I've lived her for, like 11 years, I've never actually watched the show. I've been awoken by the practice on many occasions (it is so so so much louder in my apartment than it was from the pier on Sunday) but never actually watched.

It was nice. We walked out onto a pier which is the home of several historic boats (which we will have to visit on a less crowded day) to watch the first air show, which was a really cool stunt airplane guy from Red Bull. And then later the 6 Blue Angels, which were fun too. I could totally do that, I just don't wanna.

We drank a bunch too, and walked out toward the Marina. Which was scary. Marina people are scary. I went toward something I identified as Thunderdome, but which turned out to be a bunch of army dipshits letting people pose with their automatic weapons. Kids holding assault rifles is fucking creepy and wrong. I liked it better when camo-net just meant a bunch of death-hippies beating the crap out of each other with foam-covered weapons?

We fed ducks and a seagull at the Palace of Fine Arts (I just really want to hug a seagull, at some point) and hiked back in, stopping at the small bar on the way back. YAY! I love the small bar. Except, perhaps I should have only had ONE of those beers. Oh, well.

Sunday was perfect, and just reminded me that I love San Francisco (Marina and all, including those fucked up little doggies that are so inbred they can't even keep their tongues from hanging out of their mouths.) Berkeley is nice, but it's really got nothing in San Francisco.

Oh. AHEM. I mean, San Francisco is HORRIBLE and TERRIBLE, and you shouldn't come here. Don't even think about moving here. There's, like, traffic, and stuff. And no parking ! How on earth can I go to the mini-mall without parking? And what about Applebee's? What can I eat if there's no Applebee's? Am I supposed to fry my own cheesecake?

Yep, San Francisco sucks. Stay away.

boom

The Blue Angels are in town this weekend. I have never actually watched the Blue Angels. I have been awoken by them on many occasions, particularly when I was in school and on a strange napping schedule, but never done the whole "watching the blue angels" thing.

I know, it's militaristic, and I'm not exactly a fan of the military. I know, it's Fleet Week, and I am officially annoyed (remember, I live in the middle of this shit. Marines Memorial Hall is just down the street, and totally within "WAHOO!" distance) but it's, like, so totally gearhead-y too, right? Vrrooooom, BOOOM, it's kind of like stupid motorcycle tricks, but much more expensive if you fuck up!

I propose sunday morning walking down to the "farmers market" at the ferry building, and then walking over to join the mob scene at the waterfront. Or, actually, I think that's the wrong waterfront. So maybe walking over to fisherman's wharf, and then... well, whatever. It probably involves mimosas. In my mind, sunday mornings should always involve mimosas.

or maybe I was just reacting to something my boss said

This weekend was another baby shower. Everybody's having babies. I'm not really a baby person, but I do like Jesse and Amy's baby, Quinn, so maybe that's changing? I don't know. But I think it will be pretty neat to be an aunt. And I'm excited for my brother.

So we went to the Turner Compound Friday night. Ben and Megan were flying into Oakland, and would show up later, and we would stay up all Friday night drinking wine and eating chocolate.

Except that's not what happened. Instead, we got to the Turner Compound, looked at some old family photos, then I got sick and had food poisoning and spent Friday night puking every 30-40 minutes. Good times. I felt like shit the rest of the weekend too. Saturday night I wasn't puking but my stomach had a war of the worlds going on inside it, and it was so noisy and bubbly and gurgly, it sounded like we were camping next to a babbling brook.

Ugh.

Sadly, I did not enjoy much festivity with the family this weekend, but I did get to drink mai tais during a few hours of OK-feeling on Saturday evening.

I feel mostly better now. But I feel cheated out of a weekend.

OK Fine

This semester's failure is official: I've dropped my Mandarin class.

:(

I have too many things on my plate. Mandarin was more important, but the opther class is online, and a lot easier for me to fit into my schedule. Feh.

Bu hao! Bu hao!

Wo yao ren shuo putong hua. Wo bu yao wan Zhongguo. You meiyou ren?

Not that I have time for that either.

Windoze Can Blow Me

How is it that my bottom-of-the-line 12" iBook is blowing my top-of-the-line Windoze graphics machine out of the water in dealing with Illustrator files?

I know Illustrator is a notorious pig and party-crasher, but this is ridiculous.

Next time my IT wonk suggests "upgrading" me to another $3000 machine, I'm gonna suggest he spend $800 on a little student-sized Apple, and spend the savings on beer.

Getting run over by a train is fucking retarded, OK?
No, you don't get my sympathy.
These trains need to run faster, not slower.

If you're concerned about it, stop spawning stupid humans, and you'll have no problems with it, mmmmkay?

I want to cry

It's been a long time since my caller ID has shown James Cornell calling me.



my gloves are ready at Helimot.

Critters!

Awesome weekend, in the middle of all this hectic-ness.
Thursday I went and purchased Adobe Illustrator finally. I'd been putting it off... but I really need it for my work and sanity. With the student discount, it was only $100. School has paid for itself!

Then I rushed over to Laguna Honda to visit James. Which was more crowded than I would have liked. I can't take the crowds, but am glad he is getting so much love.

Friday night we went to Lanesplitter and saw Daniel, who is doing well. Yay!

Saturday we went to a wedding in the afternoon, then an after-wedding party at the Rats clubhouse in the evening. Which is a rare appearance for us. It was nice to see folks, and I drank too much crappy beer, so Sunday morning, I had a hangover.

I felt worse than I expected, and begged Paul to get me hangover treats, which he did, despite the fact that he really wanted to sleep, and really should have been cleaning up around the house in preparation for visitors. He returned with my 7Up and Salt & Vinegar chips, which made me feel human very quickly.

My sister arrived and we had a wonderful visit. After gawking at the reptiles and amphibians at the Vivarium, we had ice cream at Sketch on 4th Street, and grazed the cheese at the Pasta Shop. We went for a hike and picnic at the Albany Bulb (feral cats and a pelican), then got some shitty screwtop wine and went to Aquatic Park to subject my sister to ducks and geese (and a few cranes). Dinner at Priya (yum) and then, damn the Templebar closed as we walked back. Feh.

Monday we went up to the UC campus and fed squirrels (which were very aggressive, and climbed all over Paul), then we went up to the tower for a view, and then out to Tilden Park looking for some brush-clearing goats Paul promised. We couldn't find them, so we went to the Little Farm and pet those goats and slapped the sheep a little. Also a few cows, more ducks and geese, some showy turkeys and roosters, and boring bunnies.

A quick walk to Jewel Lake revealed tons of tiny fish, a frog, which I petted with a piece of grass, and several turtles which were parked safely out of slapping range (presumably because they knew we were coming).

All told, this was our critter tally for the weekend:
various reptiles and amphibians
feral cats
a pelican
ducks
two big white geese
a bunch of grey (Canadian?) geese
cranes
squirrels
goats
sheep
roosters and hens
more ducks and geese
cows
pigs
bunnies
sheep
frog
fish
turtles

oh, and the livestock at the Paul homestead, minus the possums, which we earnestly tried to draw out with a jar of jam, but to no avail.

I think my sister had a nice time, and she seemed in very good spirits.
I spent Monday night trying to catch up on some of the stuff I "should" have been doing all weekend: my portfolio book, my homework. feh. I have not even started studying my Mandarin. Aiya!

Times

Sometimes I just have to say to myself "Self, you are having a shitty time right now. Things are bad, you feel like ass, and you've lost all your patience. This is how things are right now, and not how they will always be."

Aside from the whole "busy" thing (two business trips in the past week, and two classes at CCSF right now), there are a lot of unhappy things. Notably, James still isn't ready to go for a ride with me to get that hot chocolate I promised him, and I still have to come to work every day at this horrid place.

I tried the straightforward channels, and now I have to get more creative about the job thing. It's going to reach a head next week, when my boss finds out that the rest of the department is quitting. Which just leaves me here. I do not want to be here, and have not wanted to be here for a long time. But I'm not as flexible as the other two (one is just going home to Indonesia and has no need for a job anyway, and the other is open to moving to LA, New York, or even Shanghai, which looks like the likely place he'll land. Were I open to moving, I wouldn't have a problem either) But I won't leave the Bay Area. But I *really* need out of this job. I won't go into why, but to say that this is a dead end job with people I really don't respect (can't respect, knowing and seeing what I do) and I need to go where I'm challenged and have room to grow. Besides, I'm so bored here. Same thing over and over? Ugh. No sign of ever having a change? Ugh.

Sadly, there are very few places for me to go in this industry. Levi's, GAP, Gymboree are three of the big ones in The City that I'm looking at (but good luck getting your resume in front of an actual person!) and two other places I'm most interested in are Mountain Hardwear (in Richmond) and The North Face (in San Leandro) These two companies would be perfect for me. Really. Remember all the stuff I did when I was in school? Remember how it always had to have functions and complicated parts? Remember how I was the only one there who could pull off such technical stuff? Well, oops, that doesn't mean anything. HR people screen out everyone who doesn't have 5 years experience doing exactly the same thing they are hiring for. Feh. I would be a perfect fit, but how to convince them? How to find someone to convince?

Outside of that, I also have some wish to get out of this industry. I always thought I should be a project manager instead. But what that actually means seems a little screwy, from reading job listings. Need to contact some people and find out what they do, how they got there, how they think I may or may not fit in and get in.

Mostly I just want to work somewhere where I'm learning and helping and growing, and not surrounded by idiots. That is a really tall order in the fashion industry in the Bay Area. I want out. Or, I want into North Face or Mountain Hardwear. Confusing? Well, OK, maybe I don't really know what I want. But I know what I don't want. I'm really clear about that.



I won't be able to be happy until I get out of this job.
Besides that? James is in San Francisco, but when I went to see him, it was way too crowded, and I hate putting up with other people's bullshit.
I want to see James, not really to see anyone else. Honestly, I've just never been very personable, so I have to be asked like ten times if something is wrong or I'm angry. No, I'm not, I just have hit the bottom of my tolerance for other people. I put up with a lot of personality bullshit when we were doing the events to raise money recently, and I had two rude emails from one of you, got yelled at and hung up on by another one, on the same fucking day. Did anyone ever apologize? No. Did I ever call you out on it? No. I powered through the task at hand. But now, I have no taste left for working with this group. It will take some time for me to come back to it, and then it will be different. I know this is important, but so is my sanity. I have other things going on in my life. I'm tired of making nice to you.

Since I was out a lot in the past week (Milwaukee and Las Vegas, both for work) I'm a little behind on my classes. But for the record, I'm taking my third semester of Conversational Mandarin (which I feel behind in, since many of the other students are already pretty fluent) and my first internet/html class. That one is an online class, hopefully one I'll have more success in than the Chinese Characters online class I dropped this summer.

I have to say this has been a challenging few months. This year is shaping up to be a big downer, on a grand scale. Not good times. But they can't always be. There are the ups, and the downs, but mostly I have it pretty damn good. I have the most wonderful man in the world waiting patiently for me to come down from my stress. Somehow he knows I have to keep pushing. It's not like I have to take classes in my "free" time. But I hate the idea of sitting still, of stopping learning. I don't want to stay where I am, at this job, getting older and staler. I have to keep expanding my education and skills. He knows this. He knows I have to keep going to meetings about James and doing fundraisers. He knows I have to do this even though the politics and personalities drive me up the wall. He pretends to listen when I come home and download all of this. Paul even understands my deep connection to my family, spending time with my dad, and mowing my grandparents' lawn in the boiling sun.

So as bad as times get, and they have been on a downswing, I still have it better than most. I still have so much, and so much to look forward to, in better times.

but if you're trying to deal with me now, you might find me less pleasant. Unless you can help me find a cool new job. Then I'll be your best friend, and bake you brownies.

Progressive

Poo. I had been tooting their horn for the past couple of years.
But this year, despite zero claims, zero incidents, several discounts, and a clean record, they have raised the cost of insurance on my SV650, oh, about *400%!*

If the cost of insuring it went up, I assume it actually appreciated? Or else how does it cost more to insure than it did last year, given no other changes (aside from a longer history of being a great customer)?

Hey, guess what? Fuck you, Progressive!

You know I have never made a claim; you know I have never costed you a dime. It was free money for you. No more free money for you!

Here's how much the value of my bike, and therefor the cost of insuring it, has gone up:

Liability:
Last year: $53
This year: $160
Percent change: + 200%

Uninsured:
Last Year: $60
This year: $228
Percent change: +280%

Uninsured Property Damage:
Last Year: $7
This Year: $25
Percent Change: +258%

Comprehensive (no collision, $250 deductible)
Last Year: $57
This year: $432
Percent change: +658%

Total Premium for SV650
Last year: $177
This year: $845
Percent change: +377.4%

You'd think I got three DUI's and reported fifteen bikes stolen or something.
I mean, I'm sort of flattered that you think the value of my bike has gone up so much, or it's somehow become more cool.

Incidentally, the insurance cost on the DRZ shows that that bike actually *depreciated* during the same period, by 64%. That doesn't surprise me, given what I know about what that bike's been through this past year.

I contacted Mike Felder to come up with a better answer.
I switched to Progressive after I got sick of Pacific Specialty's bullshit. Progressive cost a little more, but their cusomter service was head and shoulders above and better.
But now it cost a *lot* more. Not worth it, particularly since I feel you're just trying to bilk me for no goddam reason. Is the value of your service going up? Have *I* become a greater risk? NO.

Mike tells me that Progressive (and some other companies) have been targeting SV650's. Which seems kind of dumb to me since I ride the damn thing, and, well, it's sort of a girl's bike.
I have to admit, they are kind of "crashy"
Maybe I need a different bike. I am not sport riding the thing, just toodling around, and really, it is a bit cramped. Beemer time?

Well, Mike found me a more reasonable company, but I am giving up that nice customer service. Nice customer service is not worth $500 per year. Nice customer servioce might be worth $100 per year. But for $500, I should get a weekend in Vegas along with it, or they should throw me a birthday party, something.

Mike Felder is great. Everybody call Mike.

Fuck you very much Progressive.

Rollcages are for Pussies

The SRL show on Friday was sold out, and we had to stand in line a lot to see it.
We were standing in line behind some guy and his geek-hipster-(wannabe)-trash friend. She was a late-thirties woman with blond hair and horrible fashion sense topped by a "kooky" hat. Oh, how outlandish!

she liked to talk loud so people would overhear the cool hip things she was talking about.

Fine.

We were standing there in our moto-gear minus helmets, but I'm pretty sure it's obvious we came by motorcycle, which must be why she felt the need to start discussing some friend's motorcycle accident. (People do this to me; I don't know why.) Which culminated in the mutual shaking of heads and smug looks of just knowing better than those idiotic motorcyclists...
"you know, it's just, rollcages are so much safer."
and laughing. smug. knowing better.



dumb. boring.

Listen, you stupid, boring, SAN JOSE, over-the-hill, washed up, hipster-reject, you want "SAFE?"
STAY HOME AND WATCH OPRAH.
This is an SRL show. "SAFETY," more specifically your illusion of safety, is not really what it's about.

You want a rollcage in life? Stay home, watch TeeVee. Don't think. Don't do anything "risky." Please wait here and someone will be by shortly to tell you what activities are "risky" and which are "safe." your call is important to us, and will be answered in the order...

Happy Brithday to me

Paul took me to dinner last night for my birthday. He is the best. We drank a bottle of wine and ate chocolate cake.
Next year should involve friends. And tiki drinks, or something like that.

Oh, that's wonderful!

I once had an instructor in art school named Rod Corder. He was a fashion illustration teacher, and I am NOT an illustrator. I can't fucking draw.

anyway, in class demos or even one-on-one help, whenever he'd draw, every time he lay down a stroke, he'd ooh and ahhh. "Oh, that's wonderful!" "wow, beautiful!"

In addition to being a good illustrator (none of which I picked up), he gave me this little attitude to carry around. When I feel shitty about what I'm doing, I often speak to myself in his voice.

It's retarded, but it makes me laugh, and it sort of works sometimes.

Once your stroke is down, it's down, you might as well love it and move forward.

Boom!

We just came back from an SRL show in, of all places, *San Jose.*
I still think San Joser is an armpit stripmall, but the show was great.
Ran into a bunch of people there, probably would have seen more if we'd stayed longer, but I was tired. I somehow have *ANOTHER* cold. I seriously don't understand what's going on anymore with my immune system... ugh.

Fire, boom, robots, 2 x 4 projectiles, ground shaking, etc.
yay!

It turned out my parents are out of town so we have the Compound to ourselves. Tomorrow we go to Helimot to take care of glove needs. I tried to wait for James to come back to work, but he seems to be taking his time on that. After that we'll look at more artsy crap in San Joser, and then back to the City, in time for me to cashier NWC.

Sunday is ours. finally.

Paul is the best.

San Jose

I'm reminded once again why I'll never call that cop-infested strip-mall of a podunk town "home" again.

But at least I can sleep well tonight knowing we're all a little safer.

Fuck you pig, I know my rights!

I fought the law, and *I* won.


"dismissed"

WTF WEEKEND

(please spread the word!)


August 5 & 6th is WTF WEEKEND. A two day benefit for James Cornell.

SATURDAY AUGUST 5th
For the adventurous, the weekend will start out Saturday morning, with an organized ride led by the Vampires Motorcycle Club, from Santa Cruz up to San Francisco, stopping along the way to pick up people at Alice's Restaurant.

Santa Cruz: meet at Cafe Pergolesi at 10am. (418 Cedar St, Santa Cruz CA) Ride leaves at 11am.

For those starting from Alice's, meet at the parking lot across from Alice's at 1pm. Ride leaves at 2pm. (Intersection of HWY 92 and Skyline/HWY 35)

The ride will end at the San Francisco Motorcycle Club for activities, beverages and fun. Bring your sleeping bag if you want to camp out at the clubhouse Saturday night!

SFMC Clubhouse will be open at 3pm on Saturday for those who don't go on the rides. You can still participate in the events, just show up from 3pm on. Bands, BBQ and games! Bands include: The Nads, LuridBliss, and the Hut Dwellers. We’ll have BBQ for veggies and meat eaters, NEW Tshirts for sale, and of course, beer, bench racing, videos, raffles, and games!

On Sunday, August 6, there will be a San Francisco city ride that departs from the SFMC Clubhouse (18th & Folsom) at 11am. The ride will end at McLaren Park, where we’ll continue the party with more BBQ, games (bring your helmet for keg wrestling—James’ favorite!), and the raffle of the grand prizes. Map of McLaren Park: http://tinyurl.com/kqy2s

If you can't make the ride on Sunday, show up at McLaren park!

Come on out and check out the activities!

All funds raised are being used to cover James’ expenses and bring him home and back to health. For more info about James, please visit the website:
www.jamescornellfund.org

what I'm thinking about RIGHT now

Beer makes me burp. A lot.
Paul calls it "burp juice." (only for me)

"Drink your burp juice, and let's go."

I plan to drink much the beer this weekend.

Earthquake!
I *heart* California.