Hissytrips (original) (raw)
Thu, Jul. 21st, 2011, 08:08 pm
OK, so maybe this is a bit past due, since it's been almost two years since I last posted here. But my lack of updates here came up again recently, and I realized perhaps I should do some redirecting, for anyone interested in my goings on.
For those of you who do not know: I have a "new" blog. Actually, not new, I've been posting to it for years, but for a long while now I've been writing there pretty much exclusively. Come visit! Follow me! Comment on my posts!
Waiting for the J. The blog title is a reference to one of the public transit lines in my home town — it's one of the more notoriously-sporadic lines, in that you could be waiting five minutes, or 55, you never know when the next train's coming. It's a crapshoot ... and so is my blog.
Sun, Nov. 15th, 2009, 12:13 am
After an initial humiliating experience in the Conditioning class at my Krav Maga studio (which, I notice, I failed to mention on my blog at the time in a stirring act of self-censorship), back at the end of September, I was finally convinced to attempt it again by the instructor about a week and a half ago. Thought I'd only be able to make it halfway (the first time I lasted 20 minutes), but the instructor and some of the other regulars in the class talked me through the entire thing, until I found myself at the end of the hour, trying to support myself with my weak, shaky arms through Downward-Facing Dog and the cooldown stretches. Yes, walking (or any movement, really) was difficult for the next four days, but I was so damned proud of myself. You'd think I'd won the New York Marathon or something, instead of just making it through 60 minutes of full-body movement.
I went again this past Thursday, partly to convince myself that the first time wasn't a fluke, and mostly to try and make this into a part of my regular weekly routine. The Cute Guy was there, and he and I finally had a conversation while waiting for the class to start. Found out that he delivers wine for a living (access to wine = big plus!), but we also spent most of the 20-minute conversation discussing his new '07 Toyota Camry (car talk = somewhat of a minus). Not that he'd ever be interested in someone like me — I'm probably lumpier than the type of girls he'd generally go out with — but for some reason talking with him made me feel much more like a regular and a part of the "Krav Krowd". I made that term up, by the way. But if I do somehow become popular at the facility (hahahaha), I'm totally making a FB group called that.
In other news: Today I missed taking the Krav Maga test to move up to Level Two. I think I was ready for it, but I was also supposed to help my grandparents move out of the house they've lived in for almost 60 years into their new apartment at a retirement community. I was kind of torn, since I really feel like I'm ready to move on after about seven months of going pretty religiously, but you know how it is — sometimes you have to put things off in favor of the more immediate need ("family first", yadda yadda).
Except it turned out they didn't need me, so I should have signed up and just taken the test, anyway. Now I have to wait three months until the next one. Not that I'm peeved or anything. No way.
The day turned out to be not so much of a waste. My sisters called up to see if I wanted to hang out, and I drove down to Mountain View for a few hours to do breakf- err, a late lunch at Sizzler and shopping at Cost Plus.
Call me crazy, but any time spent with my nephew just seems to make life better. Does this mean I'm getting old?
Mon, Oct. 12th, 2009, 08:28 pm
Let's start with the positive: I had today off via a shift switch with another coworker, so I convinced my baby nephew to visit (along with his entourage of his mother, my mother and my other sister) for the afternoon. A picture of him sleeping on my bed — innit he cute?
Now the negative: While we were lying around waiting for the entourage to gather energy enough to drive back home, I got a knock on my apartment door — a rare occurrence in this fourplex — that turned out to be my neighbor telling me that my car had been broken into over the weekend.
How lovely.
I went downstairs with my mother to check it out. It's actually almost laughable: they smashed the back triangle (that wee one behind the rear passenger's window) and reached around to unlock the door. Which probably means they at least scraped up their hands and arms a bit to reach to the far side of the main window and get at the back door lock. On top of that, the only things that they took were my CD stereo — and the CD function was broken; my old cell phone — which was completely worthlessly dead and broken; and the small coin purse I kept my bridge toll cash in since my coin drawer had been ripped out by the last person to break into my car — and the coin purse, while not broken, was definitely broke.
So, dickhead that violated the sanctity of my vehicle: was it worth it? Because frankly, there wasn't really anything of value in the car in the first place (lesson learned from the first break-in), and it really peeves me that it'll take more cash to fix that tiny back window than the entire value of everything that you took. I hope the cuts you got end up gangrenous.
Thu, Aug. 20th, 2009, 11:29 pm
Cringing (Slightly) Trip Down Memory Lane
So recently, I co-presented on a webinar that was broadcast live and recorded for work. I've had a few compliments on my performance — mostly, the fact that I sounded confident and conversational (people seem most taken with the phrase "quick and dirty" ... is that really such a risqué expression?). I attribute this all to the four years I spent as a DJ on the college radio station at UCSB.
Most of my stint on KCSB was on a late-night show. I started on the 2 - 4 a.m. slot, and pretty much stuck with it most of my four years. There was a 10 p.m. to midnight show at some point, a late-afternoon show for another quarter, the awful 6 to 8 a.m. — or was it 8 to 10? — slot I slogged through for another quarter (hated it). One quarter I had two radio slots in the week, to pick up for someone who dropped out — I called that second show "Outside", which had always been my secret back-up name for my normal radio show, "The Dynamic Groovy Music Hour" (thank you, David Tanser, for the name). I was always Sarah the Great, though.
At night, I kept most of the lights in the station off. Most of the time I was by myself; generally until the person with the following slot would stumble sleepily in. There was just enough light to read the CD booklets while I picked the next song, to see the board, to read my notes if I had to study for a test the next day (rarely did that last ... was too distracting from my DJing). I would blast the in-studio speakers on my favorite songs and dance around like an idiot. A couple times someone walked in unexpectedly and caught me at that. And when the phone light flashed, indicating I was getting a call, from an actual listener, that was the best.
A few listeners were regulars, and would call every week. I went on a date with one of them the first year, just before he moved to Portland. Two of my later regulars were truck drivers for Trader Joe's, and one of them had a crush on my voice. He would request the same song every week, Mephiskapheles's "Bumble Bee Tuna Song", and I always called him Eddie, forgetting that his real name was Ernie.
I taped several of those shows, but for a long time I had no way to play those recordings back, since with the death of my old boombox I no longer had a tape deck. I kind of stuck the tapes into a box in the depths of my closet, and semi-forgot about them. But suddenly, with the departure of Geof to the East Coast, I have the ability — for he sold me his entertainment system, including a combo turntable/CD player/AM-FM radio/tape deck.
The webinar and its aftermath of fame and fortune (ha. ha. ha.) had me thinking about those good ol' days, and I finally remembered those tapes. Got home tonight and pulled some of them out of the closet — the collection includes not only my very last show (which my dad listened to on the drive down to help me move out of my apartment, since I was on the air while he was on the road) but also the very very first shows I ever produced, on the training station (KJUC) that every DJ on KCSB was required to do at least a quarter on before moving to the "big time". I popped the tape of the first show into the player while dinner was cooking, turned it up, and braced for the worst.
I was totally unprepared for how awful I was. No idea how to work any of the equipment (as evidenced by songs that would suddenly cut off in the first minute and then start over again ... or continue), no idea how to use the mic or pot up the volume (my voice was about half the volume of the rest of the sound), no idea how to talk on the air (all mumbles) ... but at least my taste in music was there. I found myself hearing songs I haven't listened to in years, good songs that I shouldn't have stopped listening to. It's like a mix tape I made just for my future self ... eleven years ago.
To make myself feel better, I quickly popped the recording of the final show in before moving on to KJUC Tape #2 and listened to myself after four years' experience. Much better. Clear voice. Good use of the mic and sound board. And I sounded confident. Back to KJUC Tape 2 showed improvement already — only one cut off song, and I'd learn how to pot up the mic volume. Wonder how long it took for me to stop mumbling.
I'll probably work my way through the rest of the tapes over the next few weeks. It's kind of nice to do, reminds me of all the awesome things I've done, and can still do.
Sun, Jul. 12th, 2009, 10:04 pm
It seems I have been negligent in my journaling. I apologize. A lot's been going on, and I didn't really have the words to say it. (I still mightn't, but here's to trying.)
In lieu of taking my planned trip to Portland — good thing I didn't, because I'm broker than broke these days — I ended up spending the Fourth of July doing something I've never done before: sail on a boat around San Francisco Bay, and seeing the fireworks from the backside. It was pretty neat — my friends piloting the boat, a couple that met while they were serving in the U.S. Coast Guard (so they should be somewhat trusted on "open" waters), even let me "drive" the boat for a little bit just to get a feel for it. A couple pics below, but the rest, as always, can be found on my Flickr account:
On top of getting to do something awesome and new, the not-taking of the trip also gave me a 5-day weekend to relax and prepare for my new big adventure: working days. It's official: I've permanently dropped my vampiric ways, and have become a complete Daywalker. A perfectly reasonable, 9 to 5:30, Monday through Friday job the likes of which I never imagined I'd have again while still in my 20s. With a new job title to boot — not so much a promotion as a side-motion, but still. It's movement, and it's actually the job I've been hungering after for months. It's perfect for me, and gives me some room to grow (I hope).
It hasn't been easy. I never imagined that joining the ranks of the "normal" (as my family likes to call it) would completely throw my body out of whack. I'm waking up now around the time I used to get off work, and sleeping when I used to be working. In fact, I should probably be in bed right now, but ... well, old habits are hard to break.
We'll see how long I last like this. I keep getting told that in a few months, I won't even know how I used to be able to do Graveyard. But right now, I miss my old crew, I miss feeling like a hub of everything, and I'm still trying to figure out my niche in the daylight hours.
Thu, Jun. 25th, 2009, 04:22 pm
It's Official -- These Things Come in Threes
The king of pop is dead at 50.
My trip to Portland is dead, not even born. Sorry, y'all — too many indicators (car breaking down, cell phone dying, other things) that kind of told me the universe didn't want me taking a road trip at this time. Sucks, too, because I was really excited.
On the other hand, I get to mooch around and eat and read and watch TV a lot. So that's something positive.
Sun, Jun. 21st, 2009, 08:34 pm
If I canceled my Portland trip, would you all hate me?
Mon, Jun. 8th, 2009, 05:55 pm
The official announcement: I'm taking my annual road trip to Portland and the Pacific Northwest this year. I should be up there July 1 through 5, leaving on the 6th. So be prepared. Who will be around?
I did a quick calculation of my remaining paid time off for the year in preparation for another trip (NYC this fall ... hopefully that pans out) and realized that, if I took my 4th of July vacation exactly as I had planned/scheduled, I'd be left with only one or two days for the entire rest of the year. This includes vacation and sick leave, since my company combines them both into PTO. So I lopped off a couple of the planned days for this trip, to try and save them for the fall vacation.
Interestingly enough, I think the restricted vacation opened my mind up to greater possibilities. My first night off is now Tuesday night, July 1. Since I work that morning until 6:30, if I wanted to do a straight 12-hour drive to Portland from SF, I'd have to waste that entire day resting up and sleeping, leaving the next morning, Wednesday. Which might still happen. But I was looking at the route and playing with Yahoo! maps, and realized that Crater Lake — a place I've always wanted to get back to — is only a 7-hour drive from SF ... still a distance, but I think one I could pull off. If I sleep right up until I have to go to work that night, and leave right after my shift.
So here's the plan, for those of you who need to know:
Tuesday, June 30: get off work, drive up to Crater Lake, get a camp site. Set up my tent and take a nap for a couple hours, leaving me with enough time (thank heavens for summer light late nights up north!) to do a little hiking and exploring before I have to retreat back to my site and hunker down for the evening. I just need a tent and sleeping bag -- I already even have a grill. Huzzah!
Wednesday, July 1: Wake up somewhat early, pack my stuff back into the car, go do some more hiking and exploring around the lake. Once I'm done, start heading out towards Portland, with the aim to be at Critter Cove sometime in the late afternoon/evening ... which is what I would have been doing, anyway, if I'd rested up and left SF Wednesday morning instead of Tuesday.
Thursday, July 2 - Sunday, July 5: Muck around Portland. I want to try to do some wine tasting in the Willamette Valley and/or Columbia Gorge areas. Relax. Enjoy my time with my friends. Maybe pop up to Seattle to hang with the peeps from my company's office up there. Celebrate the 4th. Cook dinner for y'all. Get drunk on beer and Goldschlager (do I have to bring my own, or will there be a supply waiting for me?)
Monday, July 6: Leave early, drive down in time for work, or even my ceramics class. Who knows? I'll be braindead, but I'll be vacationed.
Consider yourself warned. This is all Hzppy Happy for me.
Mon, Jun. 8th, 2009, 04:07 pm
It's been a whirlwind month. Mostly good — May was a good month, made up for the crappiness of March and April. June I'm still not sure of; I'm being hit from all sides with all sorts of changes in the Way Things Are. And if you know me, you know I don't like change. Much.
Geof is tying up the loose ends before he leaves for NY, and so it was bittersweet chance to get to hang out with him pretty much this entire weekend. I'm happy for the time we got to spend together (and the TV and stereo system ... yes, I have a TV now. And a turntable — I can play vinyl!), but the fact that now I know just how limited this time left is, in reflection of time wasted on stubbornness and hurt feelings ... I'm not sure I can put it into words precisely how I feel. I'm going to miss the doofus. I'm going to miss the late nights where I'm at his place while we get drunk and he starts throwing all sorts of things off YouTube and his music and DVD collection at me. I'm going to miss the late-night phone calls that go to 5 in the morning, even though we started saying goodbye at 2. I'm going to miss the lunch breaks after the weekly supes meeting, where we vent at each other about what's been bothering us. I'm also so happy for him — I think the move is finally becoming real for him, and he's getting so excited, and I can't help being excited with him. True, he took the transfer that I always secretly wanted, he's doing the dream I always had in the back of my mind, so I'm jealous as all heck, but I'm thrilled that one of my best friends is shifting his life back into some sort of gear, in the best place on earth.
Just, why does he have to leave to do it? So not fair.
So that's the happy sad thing that's been weighing heavily on my mind of late. Next entry: Happy Happy.
Mon, May. 11th, 2009, 08:32 am
I was at a dim sum place in Milpitas for a friend's birthday this Saturday and, in the middle of scarfing down a bunch of lobster bits, I was struck with a flash of genius.
Kosher dim sum.
An idea that will revolutionize Jewish cuisine. Imagine, if you will: a big open space, dotted with circular family-sized tables surrounded by cozy dilapidated chairs. Between the rows, bubbes in various stages of senility pushing carts laden with small plates of food, trying to coax you into having "just one more bite, you look so skinny, yingela."
You heard it here first, folks. Now to get cracking on recipes. So far I have matzo balls with various dipping sauces, matzah with chopped liver, lox, mini bagels and — the chickens' feet of Kosher cooking — gefilte fish.
Any other ideas?
On the other side of the calorie scale (and keeping with the Jewish theme, I guess), tomorrow evening I'm taking my first Krav Maga class. I'm scared and excited and can't wait to be sore all over. What the heck has become of me?! I must be going nuts.