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June 29, 2009
How to Desecrate a Burrito
Step 1: Cut burrito in half
2. Unfoil the burrito and prepare for pulverizing
3. Pulverize until frothy
Step 4: Reheat burrito pulp over a medium flame just until sludgy. Enjoy!
Posted by debbie at 7:54 PM | Comments (1)
June 28, 2009
a early eve stroll down to
my pretend fancy neighborhood
a dinner of champagne & french fries
2. lemon gingerbread pancakes
poached pears & warm latte bowls
brunch in berkeley with my dad
"lemme have some of that bacon"
the sun refracting rays off his bald head
3. daisy-filled meadow in golden gate park
an acceptable facsimile of brooklyn sundays
except that a new york times is impossible to find
within in a ten block radius (we looked)
4. flopped on my old dorm-room blanket
talking about the coup in honduras
later, pondering the possibility of blenderizing a burrito
brian eno tranquil and dreamy on the stereo
Posted by debbie at 9:55 PM | Comments (0)
June 27, 2009
Posted by debbie at 9:34 AM | Comments (0)
June 25, 2009
What color IS my parachute?
What a peculiar day. Sunny then cold, calm then windy, switching up every hour. Still getting in the groove of full-time employment. Not sure I enjoy being robbed of my late mornings and no longer having Mondays as a natural extension of the weekend. I do enjoy a better income, but full time is no joke. I forgot. Everyone seems to still be recovering from the big fundraising event we had on Tuesday. It was a long and frantic night, but also an inspiring night, to see all these people in one place, people who believe in what we are doing. To think, just a year ago I was fresh off the boat. And now I'm a full citizen. At the very least, I'm at green card level. Certainly I feel much more invested in this work than in my last real job. And I think I'm adjusting ok.
But then Michael Jackson died and now I don't know what to think.
After work, I volunteered at 18 Reasons, the art/community/food space related to the Bi-Rite Market in the Mission, right near my office. I've volunteered there once before and it's a interesting scene. I've never met so many people who are REALLY into food. It's kind of nice. I mean, I love food, too. It's a friendly, open community of like minded unpretentious food snobs.
Every Thursday they have a different event and tonight was a photography exhibit for this SF-based journal called Meatpaper.
A journal on the culture of meat.
How publications like this survive in this economy is beyond me, but meat is certainly a fascinating topic. And it was a very meaty evening indeed.
Tonight, I was the bartender. I poured some crazy wines all night
and even got a schooling in how to properly open bottles from Bi-Rite's
wine buyer.I can now use a corkscrew with confidence!
You know, I'd actually like to be a bartender on the side. I've wanted to for some time now but have yet to act on the impulse. I mean, if I have to go to bartending school or be a barback first, then no thank you. But if I could work a few nights a week at a nice little neighborhood bar, I'd enjoy that. I really would.
Meanwhile during my foray into strange meat and meeting interesting neighborhood folks, Rafe was at home dying of starvation and going insane with boredom. He can't really talk and is still communicating via dry erase board. And he still can't eat solid foods. That supposed plus side to getting your tonsils out? That you can have all the ice cream you want? Sadly, it's a myth. Even it were true, it isn't really a "plus" unless you're 8 years old, let's be real here. Most adults of even modest means can eat all the ice cream they want, tonsillitis or not.
I
just blended up a frothy milkshake for him and he couldn't even take
more than sip as it was burning his throat despite his desperation to
drink it. How bad does that suck?
My coworker asked me what kind of nurse I was- more Florence Nightingale or Nurse Ratchet? I thought that was funny. All I know - milkshakes aside- is that I'd be a horrible nurse if it were my actual job. But I'd make a great bartender. G'night.
Posted by debbie at 10:45 PM | Comments (0)
June 21, 2009
And the Living's Easy
My days have taken on an extra frenetic and jam-packed quality lately. I started working full-time, right in time for a slew of deadlines; Rafe graduated last weekend (alas, we did not hop on a plane to New York immediately following commencement), had his sleep apnea surgery this week and came home all jacked up from the hospital Friday. All I can say is thank God for inventing Oxycontin!
He's still very Frankensteiny, but hopefully this surgery will change both of our lives for the better. All this is on top of a million other stressflakes that together have culminated into a giant hairy stressball....deep breathe. Sunday nights are the worst.
Despite my apparent frenzy, I have in earnest been tying to remember to chill out. Sometimes I thrive on this type of busyness (i.e. 8 years in New York); other times, I find it a touch...soul-crushing. For the last few months, however, as a curative measure, I've been reading this fascinating --and, I swear, non-new agey -- book on meditation (pay no mind to its hokey title).
It's about meditation, its practical applications, and both the scientific and Buddhist perspectives on how it actually works. Usually, I'm something of a speed reader, if may toot my own horn, but this book has slowed me down. I've been finding it so completely absorbing, I can only dip in for a chapter at a time as every other sentence literally has me pausing to contemplate for long stretches at a time. Reading this book has been a form of meditation in and of itself.
I keep this book in my monster-purse at all times but I only take it out when I'm on the bus. Like the way some passengers mumble along to their dog-eared copy of the bible or stare transfixed at at their iPhones, this book has become my escape. My particular bus line (the 22) seems to have an unusual concentration of unsavory San Francisco characters yelling and stinking up the ride (the other morning, a particularly fragrant and irritable gentleman squeezed into the seat beside me and
proceeded to glare right me, his eyeballs mere inches from my face, repeating in a satanic grumble, "I'm not going to kill you!" over and and over until I moved to the back). This book takes me to a different, more gentle place.
For the first time in my life, I feel open to understanding the idea behind meditation. I'll take a gander it has something to do with the hippie water I've been ingesting since we moved. Of course, it's no easy task in periods like this to take a step back and truly be present and at peace. For me, it's a matter of having enough alone time and enough free time to do as I please. But those days are, for better or worse, over. At least for the time being. I am recalling those days when I first moved here, and although I was generally anxious about Where Life Was Headed, I lacked the daily grind type stress that I now feel more acutely.
As I sit here in the kitchen writing this, and noticing how the sun is still golden in at 8 o'clock, I'm realizing that today marks the Summer Solstice, the beginning of summer. Not that there is true summer in San Francisco. Still, I'm all for acknowledging it. This time of year represents a time of renewal, purification, and great potential. High time for all of that. Off to take a long stroll with the dog..
Posted by debbie at 4:00 PM | Comments (0)
Posted by debbie at 7:07 AM | Comments (0)
June 6, 2009
The main reason I haven't written here in so long (aside from sheer laziness/forgetting my password) is that I spend the time I used to spend writing bloggy-type stuff here now on Facebook instead.
Writing here just seemed redundant when I could cover my bases "connecting" and chronicling the silly tidbits of my life by updating my status, posting photos, commenting on other people's profiles, etc. over there.
But writing in a more substantial way, even in this strange public medium, is something I miss. Mostly I miss it because for a long time this blog was able to give me some insight into my life. If only in a superficial way, it helped me to remember the tenor of my days, a vessel for snapshots and stories that would otherwise be soon forgotten.
So I am going to do my best to resurrect this blog, starting with a photo of the bottom of the funky, useless air shaft in our building. For what is more important to remember than moments like this?
The other day I thought I dropped my keys out the window in our hallway (which overlooks the shaft) and when I poked my head out the window I bore witness to this:
I already posted this one on Facebook to a variety of amusing responses but I'm reposting here for that random person in the Maldives that has checked my blog every day (who are you, by the way?) since I started it. Mr. (or Ms.) Maldives, these gnomes are for you. Thank you for bearing witness to this blog all this time.
Posted by debbie at 10:02 PM | Comments (0)