Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Dear Former Self (Part 3 of 3)

Wow, you had big thighs even back then!

Geez, wait until you see yourself after baby #2.

Tragic, simply tragic...

So former self

this is my last letter to you.

If only I had something great to tell you.

Oh, wait, your kids are amazing


super smart

Oh you'll be in Dwell magazine

your big (and little) claim to fame.

That's fun news to share with you

Overall you're still a big work in progress.

I wish I had better news.

Sadly I do not.

You need to talk less.



Monday, January 26, 2015

Small Amounts of Good Luck

Okay so here I am

and it's almost impossible to tell,

but that birthmark on my cheekbone is actually blue.

(Blood vessel--- not a tattoo.)

I never really thought about it but a young woman

of Greek heritage

said blue birthmarks are lucky.

(They have a thing for blue--must ward off the evil eye or something?)

She showed me her blue dot on her hand.

Oh, okay... cool.

So, today I'm going to thank my lucky blue birthmark because

 I ran this morning and caught my work shuttle.

I ran for a good amount of time without jacking up my knee and

 I felt exuberant. 

I can't wait to start running again.


I also had a great healthy(ish?) LUNCH (aka breakfast/lunch/dinner) at

 Fog City Diner.

I highly recommend their tuna salad with miso dressing. 

They can forgo the fingerling potatoes--totally not necessary.

Oh they also make killer fries with drizzled nori (seaweed).

So damn good.

Not healthy at all.

Good thing I'll be running again soon!

See ya on the road!!!

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Dear Former Self ( part 2)

Dear former self,

I wish I could tell you to toughen up and grow up but I can't.

Sorry I let you down.


Friday, January 23, 2015

Hurray for Humanity

Last night I walking down the block from my office and I saw a young woman sitting on the ground looking rather distressed.

(Maybe she is in her early twenties---little hipster-ish?)

She stood up and tried the parking meter in despair and in tears.

Me, being the Mother Hen that I am said "Hon, you okay?"

(Yes I called her "Hon"--wtf right?)

She is sobbing that her parking meter card isn't working, and she already gotten a ticket and she has to go to work at the Exploratorium (which is about 3 pretty significant blocks away).

Now if she was scamming for some money, I have to give it up for this girl.

 She can cry like Meryl F-ing Streep. 

Well I was about to offer her some change 

(which I honestly may or may not have had given I'm a solely ATM kind of gal) 

when a gentleman walked by us and turns around and asked if she needed some quarters.

He handed her what looked like $1.50 in quarters (maybe his bus money?) 

which may or may not get her through to 6:00PM when parking becomes free.

Now, if I was the distressed woman, I would have hugged the guy, but hey, that's just me. 

(Boundary issues or just being super grateful?) 

Anywho, I was walking away not far from the gentleman and I was tempted to say something nice to him like " Good job, that was a pretty cool thing you did" but instead I decided to 

keep my mouth shut.

 It wasn't my meter after all and I have this problem of sometimes saying things 

and inadvertently giving people the wrong impression.

Still, it was nice to see a man act like a gentleman.

 So kudos for humanity!

Thursday, January 22, 2015

What NOT to do

I really don't like to be mean.


I feel nicer being a nice person,

truly, honestly do.

But when I'm put on the spot,

when I don't want to be nice, will I come off as being mean?

I never know these kinds of things.

I DO know that sometimes being nice will cost you.

 Case in point:

I used to see an old Sikh* cabbie every morning on the way to the train

and I (aka Idiot) trying to be


would say "GOOD MORNING!"

in my usual peppy way.

(It's always good to start the day with a little morning cheer I think---but wait, maybe I should revisit this thought...)

Anywho, old dude starting going OUT OF HIS WAY


and ummmm... not to any other woman (or man) 


And on mornings that hubby and I would fight (and me=cry)

the LAST thing I want to do is be approached by some old dude wishing me a 



And then his polite "G.M." would become "HELLO my best dressed friend!"

(Yup, me in a dress or skirt = me feeling ICKY now)

and then (get this)

"HELLO my best dressed beautiful friend!"

Double UGH.

So then the NICE in me was feeling not-so-nice.

(Hey, what I look like is none of anyone's concern, ok?)

and since I started feeling super UNCOMFORTABLE

I actually tried my best to avoid him

 (i.e. crossing the street, walking WAY WAY fast, pretending I was on a call, etc. etc.)

Finally I asked hubby what should I do.

His response?




would be

"                     "


from me

Which is of course WEIRD and all.

And then I just started feeling GUILTY as hell (being nice and all) and I would sometimes throw in

 a pathetic


when I felt especially judged (I know--that's just my brain talking)


Well good news...

 I moved (WHEW!)

and I hardly ever see Mr. Cabbie any more.

The whole thing still WEIRDS me out in a real ethical manner

because I do see him from time to time

and I still feel sorta bad

but not as bad as when he started getting a little too friendly to my liking.

To be nice or mean?

Still don't know how this whole thing works.

* His religion has nothing to do with this issue--it just is a big part of his look--turban and all...

** For whatever reason I always feel compelled to be nice to service people, like janitors, maids, house painters etc. I guess I feel like they probably feel shitty working really hard and being invisible in the labor force so I want to be cordial to them. I mean, fuck, everyone should be given a HELLO regardless if you are a security guard or a CEO, but of course we all know that doesn't happen. Okay that was my two cents.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

It Seems To Me

So I work in an industry of lots of pretty women and even prettier men.

It can make the old gal a little insecure, being that I'm not a Glamazon and all, but so be it.

This post isn't about me.

It's about them.

These guys we hire to do all the brawny burly jobs that girls in heels are too busy to do.

Like paint, build sets, assemble whatnot, etc. 

These guys are all former criminals

Working and living together in a program of sorts

All trying to develop new skills perhaps 

navigating the world as

law abiding citizens?


Kudos to them

Glad they are on the right track

Happy we are giving them another chance

Only thing is...

While they are on this program

They are on a no sugar, no caffeine, no women diet


In the land of eye candy (and skinny jeans) that seems kind of cruel.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Wish I could

I feel really messed up

I won't talk about it


I'm always the last to know

Wish I could matter

For Once