eBay's Worst Nativities

It's three days before I leave to Kauai for the holidays. I have a ton of work. Am I working? No. I'm cruising eBay looking for their tackiest nativities. I'm not religious and I don't give a monkey's butt about nativities, but I have noticed that they are few and far between when it comes to holiday decorations in my neighborhood. I don't really care, I'm just saying.

Maybe if there were better nativities people would be more inclined to display them. The following are what amused me this morning...

INFLATABLES - the bane of any neighborhood, this one is 9 FEET tall!

SNOWMEN - I especially like Frosty the Magi in shades.


FIBER OPTIC CHRIST CHILD - but wait, there's more, the wings move!


MINIMALIST - not sure this one belongs here as it borders on tasteful, but if you told me they were chess pieces I'd believe you.


A PURRFECT CATASTROPHE - I nearly puked a hairball over this one.


PWESHUSH MOMENTS - Sold as "Nativity Starter Set." Starting pretty young if you ask me.

PENTHOUSE AND BUBBLE? - Packaged and ready for re-gifting.

And for you craftie types:

MARSHMALLOW NATIVITY KIT - You need a kit for this?

NATIVITY BAKE SET - I might order this for next year. Really.

Well there you have it, my personal favorites on today's eBay.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!

ebay, worst nativities, nativity, tacky christmas decorations,

Snotty and Stoopid

Last night after the theatre four of us decided to visit downtown Palo Alto because we hadn't been there in a while and we wanted some refreshment of the liquid variety. It was very cold so we tossed around the idea of Irish Coffees or some similar warming libation. Palo Alto is absolutely filled with restaurants and bars so there are many places to choose from.

How about a pub scene, The Rose and Crown for example, we thought? So we strolled in and 1) the bar wench was washing down the bar and 2) the place was dead and it was only 9:30, not good signs. I asked if they served Irish Coffee or some warm drink. She glared at me, guffawed and said "Irish Coffee? We only serve beer and wine here." Some inconsequential blokes in the corner also snickered "Irish Coffee??" but I ignored them. Yeah it's a British pub but it's faux and this was Palo Alto for pity's sake.

Always cheerful I said, "OK then, we'll catch you next time when we're in the mood for beer." To which she snarked, "You know you're not going to find any place that serves coffee this time of night." Double take, nay, triple take, and I'm thinking "Yo bitch, this is Palo Alto, it's only 9:30 and you're probably the ONLY establishment closing down." But the only thing more stupid than her statement would have been to respond to said statement, so I smiled and we left.

The only question I have is, was she trying to get us to leave by being such a snot or was she trying to get us to stay by lying to us that nobody would have coffee? It's still a mystery.

About 30 seconds later we strolled into Gordon Biersch and asked if they had Irish Coffees to which the host replied "Well if we don't have them I'm sure we can get them made for you." Ahhhh, now that's service.

We were so happy with our situation that we ordered three Irish Coffees, one pint of ale, one tea, one order of crabcakes and two pumpkin cheesecakes. Stick that up your flue you snotty bar wench!


customer service, gordon biersch, palo alto,

It's California for God's Sake...

...And it's fuhreeeeezing! Really, I think the very least we could get for paying the outrageous Silicon Valley cost of living would be an outside temperature of 60 degrees Fahrenheit first thing in the morning, even in December.

I must have a thermometer in my face because I am unable to get out of my warm bed until the internal house temperature reaches 64 degrees F. This morning I literally forced myself out of bed at 7:34 even though the temp was still only 61 degrees! That sucked. I looked at the outdoor thermometer and it was stuck at 30 degrees. When I left the house an hour later (yes I was late to work) it still hadn't reached 40 degrees.

When I got to work my calendar told me I had to go measure something at a customer's house ASAP so off I drove to a mansion in the ice cold hills. Even though the sun came out it was butt cold. I wasn't the only creature tortured by the cold. The birds were all waiting for their bath to thaw out.




Now, at 11:45, it is bright and sunny but still COLD! My co-worker just went outside to roll up her window because when she rolled it down this a.m. to look at traffic it froze in the "down" position.

I don't want to hear anybody complain that it is colder where they live. It is supposed to be colder everywhere else. This is the SF Bay Area and it is supposed to be temperate so we are getting stiffed big time on our weather. I demand a refund.

Next weekend I and 30 of my friends are flying to Kauai for the holidays. I can't wait to get the hell out of here.

silicon valley, california winter, cold weather

Telenovela Tot Torture

One of my many vices is watching Spanish language telenovelas. Since I'm trying to learn Spanish I tell myself they're educational, but the truth is that I simply enjoy watching the out-of-control mayhem that ensues every evening.

In many ways they are like American soap operas...the characters are over the top and larger than life, the themes of switched babies and questionable parenthood/adoption/unclaimed bastards loom large, people fall in love in 45 seconds, characters become rich or lose fortunes overnight, and many of the actors sport varying degrees of plastic surgery.

However, there seems to be one theme that pops up much more in the telenovelas than in American soap operas...children are often tortured or treated quite horrendously. For example, in my limited experience of watching only 3-4 telenovelas so far this is a mere sample of what I have seen:

Alborada (Dawn) - My first telenovela, the child abuse wasn't bad really; I only include Alborada because it's my favorite telenovela. Dona Juana, who wore black and carried a big stick switched her own infant, Diego, with the true heir Luis, the future Conde of Guevara, so that her son Diego would grow up with the royal title and all the wealth. Of course Luis had to grow up thinking that his mother didn't truly love him and Diego grew up to be a spoiled, petulant, alcoholic, sadistic and syphilitic disappointment. This was a great telenovela, historical and epic, manly men riding around on horses and brandishing swords, starring the World's Sexiest Man, Fernando Colunga (eat your heart out George Clooney). I just bought it on DVD; it's got English subtitles for those who don't speak Spanish, but I digress.

Barrera de Amor (Barrier of Love)



Dona Jacinta, the matriarch who also wore black and carried a big stick, kept trying to "accidentally kill" her illegitimate grandchild Pedrito by putting him in front of an open window during the cold nights hoping he would catch cold and die. Ultimately, when confronted with all the murders she committed in the name of God's purifications (loosing a bull that trampled her adulterous husband to death, burning alive two women who discovered she was poisoning her daughter-in-law, watching the Padre die at her feet in a diabetic coma while she held his insulin, etc.), she stole the baby with plans to purify him by fire at her in-house religious shrine. Thankfully Pedrito was rescued and Jacinta caught fire and imploded.

Heridas de Amor (Wounds of Love) - Two babies are born the night of a terrible hurricane, Nuria's baby dies, Florencia's baby Enrique lives. Florencia has a serious heart condition and cannot nurse so Nuria, grief stricken, becomes Enrique's wet nurse. Florencia sleeps a lot and every time she dozes Nuria snatches either Enrique or a pillow substitute and wanders the corridors crying over baby/pillow. Eventually Nuria is coerced by villainess Berta to kidnap Enrique for real. Currently Nuria and Enrique are trapped in an insane asylum run by evil nuns; Nuria is allowed to hold and sob over Enrique in between slappings and cold-water showers that the nuns give her. Occasionally Berta visits and she, too, hugs and cries over the baby, lamenting her lack of womanly insticts and/or fear that her growing affection for Enrique will thwart her evil plans. Oh, and Enrique may have inherited his mother's fatal heart condition. Nuria herself was stolen from her family as a young child, Berta stole her then eventually killed Nuria's grandma, but that's another story entirely.

Mundo de Fieras (World of the Fierce although my friend Maria says a more appropriate translation would be World of Hyenas)


I save the best for last. Joselyn is a beautiful and crazy woman who wears animal prints and too much eye makeup. She and her kind but unhappy spouse Gabriel have a son, Luisito, who is crippled as a result of Gabriel and Joselyn arguing in the car and Gabriel crashing it. Joselyn, currently separated from Gabriel and not happy about it, does many horrible things to Luisito to gain Gabriel's attention. Most recently, while Luisito was in his therapeutic water bath with his eyes closed, she snuck in and turned the heat up. He screamed bloody murder and simmered away while Joselyn stood behind the door looking smug and orgasmic. Eventually the bright red Luisito was rescued by his nurse and hospitalized for burns. Joselyn claimed Gabriel was an unfit father and she was granted custody of the little lobster. Her plan was a success and Luisito is still in her clutches.

As a result of all this evil-deed-doing against innocent children is it any wonder that my blood runs cold and I gasp every time a baby is born or an unsuspecting child enters the story line in telenovela land?

For complete english recaps of Alborada check out the Pratie Place blog, for english recaps of the others check out the Caray, Caray! blog, for english recaps of Heridas de Amor only check out the Trying To Translate blog.


telenovelas, barrera de amor, alborada, heridas de amor, mundo de fieras, spanish

Krampus, Santa's Scary Friend

According to my Hungarian friend Kinga, today is the Name Day for Saint Nicholas in Hungary and other European countries. Saint Nick, AKA Santa Claus, apparently has a European friend who is a bit of a rotter. His name is Krampus and starting around Dec. 6th he makes his appearance along with Santa.

While Santa is supposedly sweet, grandfatherly and the bringer of gifts, Krampus is horned and hairy (sound familiar?), carries birch switches and swats anyone, especially children, who get too close.

Where have I been? I've never heard of Krampus. Apparently towns have grand spectacles where hordes of young men dressed as Krampus complete with fangs, red eyes, furry coats and horns, parade through the streets brandishing their switches and scaring young spectators.



Krampus is a holdover from pagan times and was originally a figure intended to shock children into good behavior. None of that "he's making a list and checking it twice" nicey-nice crap for our pagan forebears. It was behave yourself or Krampus will show up, snatch you with his long tongue, throw you in a wooden backpack and cart you off to hell where you will burn forever kiddies. The lucky few would escape with whippings.



It seems that in recent years Krampus has devolved into less of a scare-tactic for children and more of an excuse to party in the streets and get blotto drunk, much like, (at least in America), the Santa legend has devolved from a one-night-only gift stocking for kids into months of crass commercialism and spending frenzies.

If you want to put a bit of Krampus in your holiday cheer just log onto ebay where you can bid on Krampus "art"...



...or even a cute little Krampus doll...


Of all the bizarre European traditions we have embraced I'm not sure why Krampus has managed to elude us here in America, but I think maybe this Christmas I might get together with a few of my friends, all dress as Krampus, (and maybe one St. Nick to ensure nobody really gets scared), and march through the neighborhood for some good-natured holiday cheer and fear. I'll bet the neighbors would really appreciate a bit of old-timey tradition back in their holiday season!




krampus, european christmas

Autumn In The Golden State

A couple of weeks ago an acquaintancefrom the east coast was visiting us at work. She used to be our office manager and moved to Boston several years ago. She was bragging about the beautiful east coast autumn and how California has no fall season.

I couldn't disagree with her more. Perhaps we don't have acres of land covered with the traditional fall colors, but here in California we definitely have a distinctive fall season. Our falls consist of the greening of the mountains, rich purples from hummingbird sage and lavender, veritable waterfalls of red berries that grow in the hills and in our yards, and an abundance of fresh fall fruits that help ease us into winter. Here are some pictures of Autumn in the San Francico Bay Area, (the exception, the lobster shot was taken in the Channel Islands off Santa Barbara last weekend) most taken within the past two weeks:

My neighbor's tree turns a brilliant red in October and usually retains its color well into January.

Starting in September and continuing into the new year Northern California is blessed with a glut of many varieties of apples. This tree grows a block away from my work in an empty lot. The apples are delicious.

The pyracantha and toyon berries are plentiful and lush, providing the birds with weeks of gorging.

When the Buffleheads arrive to take up residence in our wetlands and marinas we know that Autumn has arrived.

My favorite fall fruits are persimmons. Last weekend my uncle gave us a box of persimmons from my grandmother's tree and some home-grown Indian corn.

Dungeness crab season!!!!

California Spiny Lobster season!!!!

(Nice job Steve and Tim.)

But the best part about autumn...Midwinter sailing on San Francisco Bay. The raging summer winds calm down to more moderate blows, the weather is usually warmer, and nearly every weekend you can see kids taking advantage of these friendly conditions by participating in lessons and clinics all over the bay.

Autumn in California means packing as much activity into the shorter days as possible and enjoying the blessing of our beautiful surroundings and temperate climate.

california autumn, California fall, pyracantha, persimmons, bufflehead, sailing, Dungeness crab, spiny lobster

Thanksgiving - it puts the FUN in dysfunctional!

Sunday 26 November

Another nod to my friend Betty for reminding me about my favorite part of the Thanksgiving holiday...wacky friends and relatives imprisoned together in an overheated house and forced to make nice for the sake of...whatever.

It's amazing how many articles are devoted to this very subject as we careen headlong into that period between Thanksgiving and New Year that brings out the best, and worst, in all of us.

This from last Wednesday's NY Times:
"Cooks can control the Thanksgiving menu, but when the dishes leave the kitchen, things can unravel fast. Family grudges buried by time and distance resurface. New girlfriends meet ex-husbands. Prius drivers make small talk with S.U.V. owners. And vegans spend the meal defending themselves."

I don't think of myself as having a dysfunctional family. Certainly my immediate family is "normal" for the most part and we actually enjoy spending time with each other. But when one looks below the surface there are little, quirks shall we say, that are revealed...

For years my Aunt Rosie prepared the Thanksgiving feast at her place, a double-wide stuck in the middle of the woods. It was crowded and fuggy but we made the most of it and generally had a great time. She was a very good cook and dinner was always the American traditional: a huge turkey, quivering can-shaped cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, stuffing, giblet gravy, green bean/crispy onion casserole, sweet potatoes with a thick marshmallow crust, fruit salad, at least one color of "suspended" jello salad (often more), uncle Walt's homemade rolls, and a plethora of home-canned pickles and preserves. Dessert was always pumpkin pie plus extras such as apple pie, berry cobbler, pumpkin cheesecake or whatever inspired the rest of us. Aunt Lynnette always brought her gelled Krab salad for an appetizer and Rosie always had bowls of Nuts 'n Bolts for snacking.

Rosie's husband Walt was a grouch, and every year he would decide to "fix" something and inevitably screw it up, usually permanently. One year he ruined my guitar, another year he broke my parents' tape player. We learned to keep all things of value out of his hands.

My cousin Stan could be counted on to massively put his foot in his mouth about nearly every subject. My uncle Paul and aunt Lynnette would sit on the porch chain-smoking, hacking violently and guzzling beers. The smokers always "forgot" to shut the door all the way so that disgusting smoke would waft inside to irritate us, especially my Grandma who was never at a loss to express her opinion about that, or any, subject.

Our cousins by marriage (Walt's girls) were white trash of the highest magnitude and were absolutely reliable for providing entertainment in the form of skanky boyfriends, ill-behaved thieving children, slutty and frumpy clothing (different sisters, different styles), general bad judgment at every level, and the worst apple pie known to humankind. "Please don't ask for the recipe," cousin Karen would boast, "it's a secret." Bleck. The pie usually went untouched except for Walt's pity piece and the huge wedge she would serve her boyfriend (Randy? I can't even remember his name), who would force it down while gazing longingly at the other desserts...and sis and I, I might add.

Many of my cousins have eschewed marriage, so there was never any shortage of "little bastards" (as my grandmother called them) running around the house. And Rosie, who couldn't resist a stray of any kind, inevitably invited some disheveled but grateful urchin from the neighborhood to join us.

Yes, it was as chaotic as it sounds, but Rosie would manage to coordinate the grand feast and get it on the table before her eyes blurred and her words slurred from the effects of her cheap jug wine.

I'm not sure when it all started going downhill, first Rosie started buying pies instead of making them, so my sister and I volunteered to bring desserts. Then Walt's homemade rolls started resembling hockey pucks instead of bread. Grandma began having mini-strokes and got kookier and scarier as each year passed. She was the guardian of the door that separated the smokers from the rest of us and she started to fall down on the job. One year Rosie tried to slip in a bowl of instant mashed potatoes but my sister busted her. We would be in charge of the potatoes from then on. I believe that same year Rosie put way too many giblets in the gravy and we all admitted to her we hated giblets so she lost interest in the gravy as well. Sis eventually took charge of that task too.

Walt died and his creepy daughters left the scene. Grandma passed away and took some of the holiday's personality with her. Rosie's food started tasting more like cigarette smoke and less like food.

Rosie's middle son, cousin Mark, built a house in Kelseyville and Rosie moved in with him, so two years ago we decided to have Thanksgiving in their real house instead of the double-wide. We arrived and everything was going along well, and going, and going, and going with no sign of the food actually reaching the table. The food was more or less prepared but there it sat, the turkey getting drier, crispy onions burning on the casserole, as Rosie sat on the porch smoking and chugging her rotgut. Finally Sis and I took charge, coordinating the dishes and getting everything on the table.

That year we realized that the balance of priorities between getting looped and getting the dinner on the table had shifted for our aunt Rosie. She loved having everybody there but she no longer loved being in charge of the feast.

Last year Sis and I had Thanksgiving at our own place with a houseful of friends and local family and we didn't even see Rosie and the gang.

This year Rosie's oldest son and his wife hosted Thanksgiving. Cousin Steve and Eileen put together a wonderful feast for a huge crowd, just like old times. Rosie was there (with her grumpy boyfriend Bob) and all she had to make was the green bean/crispy onion casserole. It tasted exactly like it was supposed to so I guess she can handle 3-ingredient dishes. Lynnette stopped smoking so there was one less hacker. The mashed potatoes were real, the cranberry sauce homemade, sis made fabulous gravy and as far as I could tell there were no food disasters. (Except that my aunt Merna, almost blind, destroyed the cheese crust on the broccoli casserole and tried to put cranberry sauce on her potatoes before I rescued her.) The pies were delicious and nobody had qualms about sharing their "secret" recipes.

This year all Rosie had to do was show up with her casserole, sit on the porch, smoke and sip wine, ignore grumpy Bob's glares (he thinks she drinks too much), and visit with her family.

Thanksgiving was a lot less dysfunctionally funny, but it was a lot more fun, especially for aunt Rosie.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!!


family dysfunction, thanksgiving dinner, tradition

Bulletin Board Philosophy

I was at the local marina today installing some boat canvas and I noticed this on the bulletin board tacked amidst the usual boat-oriented junk:





It's funny how sometimes the most seemingly inconsequential thing, a small flower that insists on growing in a crack of the street, a young man who gives up his shopping cart for an elderly person, a simple hand-written note on a corkboard, can make one pause and think that perhaps there is hope in the world after all. I saw all these things today and am happier for it.

Can You Smell That Smell?

I read this in the news over the weekend:

"A passenger who was taken off a flight out of the Hawaiian capital of Honolulu because of his body odour, on Wednesday lost a lawsuit he brought in Germany against British Airways.

A passenger complained to the crew about his smell before take-off and a flight attendant requested the sweating German to change into a clean shirt. However, his clothing was in a bag in the hold, so he and his luggage were left behind in Honolulu.

The man had demanded $2,800 in damages from the airline, alleging his time was wasted and he had to pay more after missing an onward connection back to Düsseldorf in Germany.

He lost his case in a lower court because the fine print on his flight contract said the airline did not carry people who "have extreme body odour". Martina Griebel, a lawyer for British Airways, said it was the only time the airline had ever applied the "odour" rule to a passenger."

I know someone who was once kicked off a plane for bad BO. A few years ago my boyfriend's brother, a vagabond by trade, tried to take a plane from Southern California to San Jose. He didn't have a car and had walked for several days to get to the airport. When he boarded the plane some passengers complained about his terrible BO. Can you imagine how BAD somebody must smell for other passengers to complain?

Anyway, the flight attendants asked the Bro-Un-Law if he could change into another shirt. He didn't have another shirt or any money so the airline gave him some money, escorted him from the plane, and booked him on the next flight to San Jose two hours later.

He bought a new shirt at the airport shop, went to the public restroom and cleaned himself up a bit, and waited for the next plane out. When he boarded the plane the stewardess who looked at his his ticket said, "Hmmm, nice shirt."


bad body odor, body odour, odor / odour rule, smelling bad

Tell Me What You Eat...

I got an e-mail today from my friend Betty (an outstanding cook by the way) in Oregon. She had just spent time with ladies of a different generation than she(ahem...older) and was impressed, not favorably, by their recipe exchange. Specifically, she was horrified and amused that people would still be exchanging recipes for such ghastly dishes as green bean casserole and salads with marshmallows.

Betty wonders:
"The question that comes to mind is what is it about the group of people out there who think that recipes [like these] are "normal"? (I'm not sure if normal is the right word to use). Who came up with the delicious dishes like green bean casserole with cream of mushroon soup, covered with crispy fried onions? or putting marshmallows in a salad? or covering a cake with goopy PINK frosting? Is this some kind of long running cosmic joke? "

Betty, I'm sure this is not just a generational thing, and to many folks, especially in the midwest, it's no joke. I believe that recipes like these are ingrained deeply in our culture's psyche. My cousins also serve that green bean casserole every Thanksgiving and the recipe is NOT to be changed.

One year my sister and I tried adding cheese to it...it didn't fly.

In our own home we do a version with roasted root vegetables in a homemade Mornay sauce. But we still put the Durkee fried onions on top and it is a hit like you wouldn't believe. Maybe because it's a variation on that horrid convenience comfort food but with a culinary twist. Honestly, it is delicious and it is those crazy fried onions that drive the guests wild. Betty, I hope you're not too appalled.

Apparently the historic green bean casserole was invented in 1955 by a recipe developer who worked for the Campbell soup company. She developed so many recipes she doesn't even remember inventing that one.

Moving on to pink cake, those same cousins make a gigantic pink monstrosity every Easter. It is made by tearing angel food cake into pieces, packing it back into the cake mold with strawberries, then pouring strawberry Jello over the whole thing and chilling until firm. It is frosted with Cool Whip to which food coloring has been added until it is a bright pink.

One year my cousin's kid made the cake and instead of coloring the Cool Whip she poured pureed berries over the top. It was a masterpiece of mess and looked like an accident victim but it still got devoured.

Neither my sister nor I care much for Cool Whip, it looks too much like Loni Anderson's hair, so one year they relented and frosted with actual whipped cream. You know what? We liked it!


The only problem? We missed the pink.

My bro-un-law took these pics. He says he has hundreds of this cake and all its iterations from over the years. Good on ya Sock Monkey!

green bean casserole, pink cake, retro food, strawberry jello cake, pink food

He's Ho Hum & Humdrum

Last week I ran across a website devoted to dull men and to "celebrating the ordinary." It is the Dull Men's Club and it is very amusing, or perhaps boring depending upon your taste. It has no (or little) color because that would be too exciting. The format is uninteresting which is appropriate.

They advocate many dull activities such as removing exclamation points, watching ants (when the ants aren't too busy), watching a grape become a raisin, extreme accounting and binge flossing to name just a few. Actually, I think anything with "extreme" and "binge" in it should be disqualified because they imply too much passion, just my opinion.

Women are not allowed because women are too exciting. I agree with this.

Imagine my surprise when this morning I heard this website discussed on NPR (exclamation point removed).

Now I'm concerned, if the club makes the news will they have to disband because they have suddenly and against their will become too interesting?


dull men, celebrate the ordinary, ho hum, humdrum

Mass Achoo Bits

I had the opportunity to take public transpo recently and I have but one question.. Why oh why must people look into their handkerchiefs and tissues after blowing their noses? Ick!

Honest to God you can google anything; it looks like there is a word for what I described above:

MASSACHUSETTS (pl.n.) Those items and particles which people who, after blowing their noses, are searching for when they look into their hankies.

Tongue-in-cheek of course, but check out this list of "spare words" coined by Douglas Adams and John Lloyd in their treatise "The Meaning of Liff." (click on the red)

"In Life*, there are many hundreds of common experiences, feelings, situations and even objects which we all know and recognize, but for which no words exist.On the other hand, the world is littererd with thousands of spare words which spend their time doing nothing but loafing about on signposts pointing at places.Our job, as we see it, is to get these words now off the signposts and into the mouths of babes and sucklings and so on, where they can start earning their keep in everyday conversation and make a more positive contribution to society. "



blowing nose, mass achoo bits, nose blowing, massachusetts, the meaning of liff

Mired in Despair - CA general election

Today is the culmination of the California 2006 Gubernatorial Race and it's another year of the stink test. These are our choices:

Ahhhnold, aka The Governator - our movie star incumbent who "can't be bought" because he's already rolling in dough. But we know that everybody has their price. The nurses hate him, the teachers hate him, and he wasted 300 million on his bogus special election, a pretty high price for the people to pay for one man's arrogance. But Maria Shriver married him so he can't be all bad, can he???? (ominous music in background)

Phil Angelides - another insipid Democratic from the Gray Davis regime. On the plus side he managed to stay out of the radar while those around him toppled. But does he have the nads to be our governor? Is he the least stinky of the lot?

Janice Jordan - possibly the only candidate who could kick Arnold's ass...really. Nearly every campaign picture shows her with her grappling coach or throwing some victim to the mat. Aligned with Leonard Peltier, spells womyn with a "y", promotes all noble causes, so basically not a chance in hell.

Peter Miguel Camejo - I don't remember the miguel, perhaps included it this year as a last ditch effort to get the hispanic vote. Even the latinos won't vote for the guy so why should I? Just because he's possibly the least corrupt of the candidates...since when did that matter?

Art Olivier and Ed Noonan - huh?


So there you have it, our list of stellar choices. It's pretty obvious who should be our next governor, isn't it? Sigh.

I supppose there are always the write-in candidates...

despair, stink test

For the Love of Grits

Just got back to California from a four-day "business trip" to Atlanta, GA. Business Trip really means the boss and I went to the International Fabric and Textile Trade Show to check out "new and exciting trends in the world of textiles and soft goods fabricators." Yawn.

I lived close to Atlanta about 25 years ago in another life. It was OK but this California girl only lasted a couple of years before she had to get her liberal backside back to the west coast right quick.

Still, it was fun to be in Atlanta once again. It was beautiful then and it's beautiful now. Great new additions are Centennial Park and The Georgia Aquarium which was outstanding. That's high praise coming from a longtime member of the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

One thing that hasn't changed in Atlanta...GRITS!!! If anything the grits are even better than I remember. How did I ever let grits get out of my diet?

Our first morning, jet-lagged and sleepy, we stumbled through the hotel cafe on our way to the trade show. There on the buffet table sat two chafing dishes, one with oatmeal and one with grits. Next to them sat bowls of brown sugar, raisins, cheddar cheese and pepper. The boss went for oatmeal with sugar and raisins and I went for grits with cheese and pepper.

Oh. My. God. I was in heaven.

After that I saw grits everywhere, grit cakes with gumbo, grits and grillades, fried grits with ham, grits and crawfish etoufee, Parmesan grits with shrimp in lemon-oregano sauce...

In fact my last meal was at The Sundial Restaurant at the top of the Westin Peachtree Plaza Hotel. I had Seared Maine Diver Scallops on Stone Ground Parmesan Grits, Caramelized Winter Squashes, Baby Arugula Salad, and Balsamic Butter reduction.

Tomorrow I'm goin' to the store to git me some grits!

grits, grits and shrimp, atlanta, sundial restaurant

Those Wacky Finns #5

The Helsinki Complaints Choir:
Finnish artists Tellervo Kalleinen and Oliver Kochta-Kalleinen collected the pet peeves and angst-ridden pleas of people in Helsinki and then composed this choral work around the list of complaints: The Helskinki Complaints Choir. (Click on the blue to see the youtube video, about 7 mins. long).












While many of the complaints are universal to western urban life ("Tramline three smells of pee," "Bullshitters get on too well in life," "Christmas season starts earlier every year"), many of the complaints dive deep to the heart of the Finnish soul ("Our ancestors could have picked a sunnier place to be," "In the public sauna they never ask if its ok to throw water on the stove," "Old forests are cut down and turned into toilet paper, and still all the toilets are always out of paper," and most importantly, "We always lose to Sweden in Hockey and Eurovision"). But all the complaints end with the timeless refrain of all humanity, It's Not Fair.



wacky finns, helsinki complaints choir

Sorry I Missed It

Sure wish I'd seen this before he got arrested...

From the Mercury Police Blotter, 10/24/2006:
CAMPBELL
First Street and Campbell Avenue, 11:55 p.m. Friday - a man riding his Harley with three female passengers aboard was found to be driving under the influence.

I suppose a motorcycle with four people aboard would be noticeable here in California.

Obviously it's not a big deal elsewhere, say Bali for example:



police blotter, motorcycle, bali traffic

SPAM Haiku

Top ten, in no particular order:








Born in World War Two
Hogs marching off to battle
Dressed in tin armor.

And who dares mock Spam?
you? you? you are not worthy
of one rich pink fleck.

Oh tin of pink meat
I ponder what you may be:
Snout or ear or feet?

In mud you frolicked
Till they cut, cleaned and canned you
How now, ground sow?

Silken pig tofu
The color of spanked buttocks
Blushing at my knife.

SPAM, too, needs a wife
What consort for my Pork Prince?
Ah! The Velveeta!

Little slab of meat
In a wash of clear jelly
Now I heat the pan

The color of Spam
is natural as the sky:
A block of sunrise.

In the cool morning
I fry up a slab of Spam
A dog barks next door.

Clad in metal, proud
no mere salt-curing for you
you are not bacon.




spam haiku

Ugly Bettys of the World Unite!!

There is a phenomenon that has been taking over the world since 1999. It is a modern twist on the ugly duckling story and all started with the Colombian telenovela sensation Yo Soy Betty La Fea. When it aired in the U.S. a couple of work pals watched this telenovela and loved it. They discussed it nearly every day at work. At that time I didn't know a word of Spanish so never bothered watching it. I regret that now.

Because this telenovela was such hit it was copied in numerous other countries and has achieved its most recent manifestation in the new U.S. prime time program Ugly Betty.

Many thanks to Caray, Caray! La Fea Mas Bella recapper Julie, (who also recaps Ugly Betty), for turning me onto the following world tour of beautiful uglies, which I plagiarized from Entertainment Weekly:

COLOMBIA
THE SHOW: It's the telenovela that spawned all subsequent versions: From 1999-2001, Yo Soy Betty, La Fea (translation: I Am Betty, the Ugly One) followed unattractive but whip-smart Beatriz (a.k.a. ''Betty'') through life-changing experiences as an assistant at a fashion house.
THE STAR: Ana María Orozco, looking very much like the U.S. Betty, with her scary mouth gear and red granny glasses



GERMANY
THE SHOW: Verliebt in Berlin (loose translation: Being in Love in Berlin). Like most telenovelas, this version (2005-present) was meant to wrap up quickly, in about a year, but high ratings led to another season.
THE STAR: Soap actress Alexandra Neldel was Elisabeth ''Lisa'' Plenske, the ''ugly'' heroine who found her happy ending at the conclusion of season 1.






RUSSIA
THE SHOW: Ne Rodis' Krasivoy (loose translation: Not Born Beautiful); 2005-06
THE STAR: As Katya, Nelli Uvarova is stuck with the glasses and braces but is spared the heinous bangs




SPAIN
THE SHOW: Yo soy Bea (2006-present); the Bea is not only the heroine's nickname but also a playful combination of the Spanish words fea (ugly) and bella (beautiful).
THE STAR: Ruth Néñez is Beatriz ''Bea" Pinzón, who, like many of the international Bettys, ends up falling for the boss.



THE NETHERLANDS
THE SHOW: The Dutch version is simply named after its protagonist: Lotte (2006-present)
THE STAR: The actually-quite-attractive Nyncke Beekhuyzen (seriously, take off the glasses and she looks like she could play in an indie-rock band)




INDIA
THE SHOW: Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahi (translation: There Is No One Like Jassi), which during its three-year run (2003-2006) dealt with issues of beauty and class
THE STAR: Mona Singh is fashion-house secretary Jaisi, who's got kind of a mod '60s look goin' on...



MEXICO
THE SHOW: La Fea más Bella (translation: The Most Beautiful Ugly Woman), which also airs on Univision in the United States — in fact, one recent episode of the telenovela reached 5.4 million viewers, topping all The CW's shows that week.
THE STAR: Angélica Vale is Leticia ''Lety'' Padilla Solís, who works as an assistant not in fashion but at an advertising agency. She's got the glasses and the braces and — horrors! — even metal barettes.

THE U.S. AND CANADA
THE SHOW: ABC's Salma Hayek-produced Ugly Betty, which debuted to high ratings on Sept. 28 and has been called one of the season's best new shows.
THE STAR: America Ferrera, who's played memorably touching characters in movies like Real Women Have Curves and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, makes fashion-challenged Queens girl Betty Suarez a joy to watch. Will this sassy, independent Betty, like a few of her foreign counterparts, eventually get a miraculous makeover? ''I've been asked a lot when she's going to get pretty,'' Ferrera told EW, ''but it's so not the point of the show.''

I think it's fascinating that the ugly duckling theme is so very popular throughout the world. Is it because many of us identify with the plain janes and ugly bettys, always getting overlooked and ignored in favor of those few undeserving beauties who always seem to get first dibs on all the good stuff?

Of course if you Google Image the actresses you will see that all of them are incredibly good-looking to downright beautiful in real life.

The original "ugly"...NOT!!

Sigh...so the beauties not only get the beautiful roles, they also get the choicest "ugly" roles as well? Dang, that sucks!!

ugly betty, la fea mas bella, betty la fea, ugly duckling

You Can Run...

...but with Google you cannot hide. Thanks to old friends googling my name, which shows up on our company's web site, I have been e-mailed and/or telephoned by:

*Phone: a friend from elementary school days, after I made a joke about not ever wanting any brats running around the house he informed me he is thrilled with his first child, a perfect little girl, he never knew life could be so meaningful. Gee, never heard that tired old tune before. Chance of hearing back from him - 10%. Do I care? No.

*E-mail: a girlfriend from my high school daze, she always had the absolute sleaziest boyfriends, her entire e-mail consisted of telling me all about her wonderful new boyfriend, friends for years and just became lovers, both Deadheads. Hello, what century are we in? Chance of hearing back - 20%.

*Phone and e-mails: a boyfriend from my living-in-the-south days, accent thicker than ever, bragged about his genius son, sounded sad that I'd never married or had kids, probably thinks it's because of him. Why did he call? My theory - his church had a "beg for forgiveness" drive and he couldn't face life until I told him I didn't hold a grudge for all the crap he gave me. Yes, he broke my heart but that was the best gift he ever gave me. Thanks asshole. Chance of hearing back - unfortunately 35%, wish it were 0%.

*Phone and e-mails: hottie boyfriend from college days, worked on the campus farm and lived in a teepee, now works as an organic farmer and has a teepee on his property. I found this consistency in lifestyle oddly reassuring. Still hot. Chance of hearing back - 80%.

*E-mail and phone: pal from silicon valley work days, now lives in NY. Was always depressed in California but much happier back home in NY with all the other depressed city folk. Called me last year on my birthday, wonder if he'll call this year? Chance of hearing back - 99%.

I think there have been one or two more but I can't remember them off the top of my head.

I wonder how many other old friends/acquaintances have googled me but not contacted me?

Of course, thanks to Google I already knew what most of these folks were up to, heh heh.

googling

Busted in Berlin

"Police hunt breast enlargement cheats"

BERLIN (Reuters) - A German plastic surgeon who was cheated out of payment by several women has given pictures of their enlarged breasts to police, in the hope the photos will help trace them.

"The women registered under fake names," Michael Koenig, a surgeon in Cologne, told Bild newspaper. "After the operations, which lasted about an hour, they just ran away."

"Tanja" went out for "fresh air" after 8,000-euro ($10,000) surgery to enlarge her breasts. "She never came back and never paid," Koenig said. He now plans to demand payment in advance.

Bild published a five-column picture of Tanja's naked breasts. "It's probably the most unusual wanted poster police ever had," the newspaper wrote.

I logged onto Bild, (quite a trashy publication by the way) and found Tanja's wanted poster in all its glory, but I must say her breasts don't look very enlarged to me:



Der Busen von "Tanja" (26) aus Würzburg vor der Vergrößerung (von 75 A auf 75 C). Gleich nach der OP verschwand sie, ohne zu bezahlen. Schaden: 8000 Euro

Sorry, I don't understand German so cannot translate.

It seems that Dr. Konig cannot keep track of just breasts, he also has a couple of running noses as well, here is Silke's wanted poster featuring her new nose job:

If you long onto Bild Online today you can read this article in German, notice that Paris Hilton is on the front page, download David Hasselhof's new single and see a picture of a man sticking out of a sausage grinder.

Bild, breast enlargement, nose job

Up All Night - Race to The Farallons

Sunday 5:oo pm

Have you noticed that when you stay up all night it really messes with your internal systems? Today I am suffering the "hangover" of having stayed up all night...

Yesterday I raced on a friend's sailboat (mentioned on a previous post) from San Francisco, out the Golden Gate and around the Farallon Islands, approximately 25 miles offshore, then back again to San Francisco.


The Farallons are famous for whale watching, fishing and great white shark research.

I have done this race many times on my boat and on friends' boats. Usually we can finish this race between 7:00 pm and midnight, no matter how slow the boat. Yesterday's race was the longest Farallons race ever. We started at 10:00 a.m. yesterday and finished at 7:45 a.m. this morning.

Why so long? Because there was no frigging wind on the ocean! The race was long and grueling and even though I took a break from midnight to 02:30 I couldn't sleep because sailboats are very noisy.

So now I am delirious and lazy. I had a million things to do today but so far all I have been able to to is take a 2 hour nap, catch up on watching two telenovelas, blog about said telenovelas and feel guilty for not getting even one of my myriad of chores done. It's 5:40 pm and I haven't even taken a shower yet. Gross.

Sometimes I wonder why I do these ocean races...

Cons: This race was too long, we rounded the islands at night so I didn't get to see them, because the winds were light we were downwind of the island for hours and the air reeked of bird and seal poo, one of my crew-mates talks non-stop, Tom (my boyfriend and not the non-stop talker) had just read "The Devil's Teeth" by Susan Casey and kept telling us about the Farallon flies that live in the anus of seals, it was overcast and chilly all day except for about 30 minutes when we had some sun.


(Tom enjoying the sun with the islands in the background.)

Pros: I was on the ocean, the seas were flat instead of lumpy so nobody hurled, it was overcast and chilly so no anus-dwelling flies landed on us, I like my crew-mates even the one who won't shut the fuck up, even though the race was frustratingly slow we laughed all night long, we saw lots of dolphins and a humpback whale, it's always an adventure to sail out to the Farallons, for breakfast I had a chocolate muffin and a mug of rum.


Here's a what Arch Rock at The Farallons looks like when you get to sail around it during the day, sigh.

7:00 pm update. Took out the trash and recycling, watched the moon rise. Hoorah, day not a total waste. Can now go to bed.

sailboat racing, farallon islands, up all night