it's only ten minutes...

No, sorry, it's not a sign that Spring has arrived, even though we all
know that pitchers and catchers report in 21 days. This means that
my 16th (!) class of the Round Robin Daily Writing and Teeth Gnashing
begins today. It's all done via email and eventually we will each have
a writing partner, but for the first 3 days all 26 students send each other
their 10 minute writes. I call this stage the Robin Cluster Fuck, but don't
tell my teacher that.

I'm happy to be forced to write everyday. I say that now because I
have not even begun. The first prompt is RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE.
Funny, here I am dragging my feet with absolutely nothing to write
about. Welcome back to the daily discipline...nada under this nose.

it must have been the squash

What a delightful time we had last night at Ristorante Milano!
Just a couple of food photos to irk the Blogmaid. That's my salmon and
here are lamb chops (sorry Fevered Brain) and The Great Plotnik's veal
chop and you can see polenta and squash which caused heated discussions
because all 9 of us agree on politics and religion, or lack thereof. The
service, food and conversation certainly sparkled and we once again
thanked our lucky stars as we fell asleep last night, because we indeed
have the finest friends in all of North America.

It was Free Day all day yesterday, no tasks for either of us. Husbando
LOVED his commano-in-print and I already warned him that the author
does not accept belated "'scuse me, I think you're wrong here" comments,
which I understand afflict other bloggers with loyal spouses who read
their daily word droppings.

Today is the opposite of Free Day. Housey tasks galore. That's OK,
we're game. Did I mention that I have four days off in a row? Sweet!

the b.day and the printed page

Today is Husbando's birthday and there is a gaily wrapped package
awaiting him on the kitchen table. It's this blog, all printed out,
fat (364 pages) and full of my often boring little thoughts and our
activities since I started posting here on May 11, 2005. He doesn't
"do" computers, and even if he did, this was a great excuse to get
all this stuff in print. August 26, 2007 is the last post here.

Mr. Z. did a tremendous amount of work here, transferring this
(I lack the technical terms, sorry) to a file so I could send it to
Kinko's® for printing and binding. They made two copies and I
am thrilled beyond words with the results. Thank you, Joe, and
I'm sorry this was so frustrating for you so often. Oh, it even has
a table of contents!

I showed it to my writing group last Thursday night and we were
all amazed by how much a little writing every day can produce.
Thanks, too, to Michael in Goleta for his endless technical help,
especially in the beginning when nothing made sense.

Then finally, thanks to my readers. It seems like each time I
wanted NOT to write, someone would comment and I'd feel like
a million bucks and I'd come back the next day to post something.

One last thought that I've already shared with some of you. I've
always kept journals, probably since high school. I HATE reading
them and I really should probably just burn them now so they
don't fall into the wrong hands when I pass through this veil of
tears (what's that expression?). Anyway, I don't feel that way about
commano-in-print. I like it ~ not great writing, but sheesh, it's fun
to read what I was doing and thinking these past many months.

Tomorrow I'll report on the b.day reaction. Tonight is a special
dinner with close and treasured friends. Happy Birthday to dear
Husbando, this will show up for you in Commano the Sequel...

tripping into the past

We helped ourselves to some nostalgia from Flix® last night and
enjoyed seeing Mort Sahl, Professor Irwin Corey, The Limeliters,
Kingston Trio, Jonathan Winters and even Maya Angelou. Some
folks certainly change over the years, but it's amazing to me that
many of the voices stay strong and sweet. Enrico Banducci was so
important to so many performers and to SF back in the day. I do
recommend this documentary ~ it's short and very upbeat.

it's about acceptance

Not much to say this morning, so I'll report that we watched this
lackluster DVD the other night. I'm a HUGE Robin Williams fan
(he comes into the big box sometimes) and I also read the book
when it first came out. The story is intriguing ~ a mysterious
14 year old boy, or is he? But I can't really recommend the movie
because it simply isn't all that great.

Lots of changes at the big box and since they involve me and the
future, my mind is in a bit of a whirl. I need to constantly remind
myself that there are many things (most?) over which I have
absolutely no control. Let it go, Woman. Breathe. Cough.

bitch slaps in a brick building

The Writing Salon has a glamorous new home at 720 York Street and
last night our Tiapos writing group met here to inaugurate it.
Isn't it elegant and professional ~ warm and cozy too? There is also a
kitchen and a bathroom with a door that closes! Congrats to Mistress
Jane for the two months of work getting moved. How did you do it?

We were almost complete last night, a rarity considering that Chef P
drives down from Napa and Eric has to battle the Bay Bridge. Only The
Great Plotnik was MIA. As usual, we had fascinating tangential dis-
cussions including the correct definition of the term "bitch slap" which
Will used in his piece on driving around and through Pittsburgh, PA.
Eric read the memorial to his grandmother and Chef P wrote about
her mother who died last September. Karen had a zen experience in
her '92 Prius while Jane and I listened and made insightful comments.
It was a delightful meeting ~ I am so, so fortunate to have these talented
people to enrich my life. We laugh, we cry, we question and praise.

baseball in utah in the forties

The shame of the Japanese internment camps during World War II
is tempered here in American Pastime by seeing how stoic and
adaptable the prisoners are. They only had 10 days to pack up their
belongings and climb on buses to the camps after the bombing of
Pearl Harbor. And of course then we have some fun baseball games,
a little mixed-race romance and an almost believable epiphany.
One Kleenex® for me, but in a good way.

sloth triumphs again!

I decided to skip yoga this morning because
I have this nasty cough and I promised Husbando
that I would call the doc. I don't really have a doc
because mine all retire at approximately age 45,
but I called the office anyway to appease him.
For too long I was a walking cigarette and although
I haven't smoked for decades, all little bugs end
up lodged in my lungs. Thanks for listening...

So I'm cleaning out my office ~ see 01/01/08. Remember when we thought we might have a paperless society?
This isn't really my office, but I do collect a lot of paper.
Among other things, I decided I could toss The Great Plotnik's trip to Turkey and when we go there he can just provide us with the highlights. Ditto many notes and cards from friends near and far, some in fact now departed. Those I keep.

Truthfully, I didn't really toss much. I did reorganize and am trying to get
stacks off the floor. Mine looks like a lawyer's office without the fat
salary. The nice big difference is now I "file" using those plastic
Costco salad boxes rather than icky shoe boxes ~ and no one knows
that I have big feet. It's a mess, but I still love having a room of my own...

we speak of glass and fog

I am finally reading The Glass Castle, a memoir by
Jeannette Walls that has been on my night stand
forever. It remains one of our top selling books and
I can understand why. Such a rough and strange
childhood and yet she continues to love her parents
and isn't bitter at all. First chapter ~ the author is
in a taxi and sees her mom digging through garbage
on a NYC street. Tough stuff.

It's v. foggy outdoors this morning and my inner spirit reflects this,
especially since I didn't get enough sleep after closing the big box
last night. It wasn't busy, but there were a few difficult people and
one young drunk with whom I spent far too much time trying to usher
out of the store. He kept apologizing and wanting to hug me and
I said, "I don't hug customers". We did call the police, but I didn't
want to have him arrested, so I kept walking him down Powell
Street until he finally disappeared. The cops were busy with far
more difficult people (I assume), so he was gone when they arrived.

warning ~ rough territories ahead

I had some comp time yesterday, so we had lunch at Fresca
out on Fillmore ~ great mussels, adequate calamari and a
"breakfast sandwich". But so nice to be out and about on
Sunday which is indeed different from the rest of the week.
Every restaurant on Fillmore was packed and some happy
people were sitting outside enjoying the rare January sun.

Do people eat breakfast sandwiches at home?

Then we went to the 2:30pm Magic Theatre world premiere
of Territories by a local Palestinian-American playwright. I
thought it would be right up my alley: invisible woman impacts
the entire world and we never even know her name. The 3 actors
did a fine job and we both really wanted to recommend this,
but no go. Husbando remarked that it was like a high school
play and I noted that it was a good thing that there was no
intermission or everyone would have left. Many slept despite
lots of noise on the stage. Maybe there will be a re-write and
I await the professional reviews. But the next Magic play is my
fave Edna O'Brien in Land of Youth and that will be terrific.

(I do like this program note: Alfredo Narciso, like many New
York actors, has predictably, appeared on Law & Order.)

333 geary street

We had an all female lunch here yesterday (the Blogmaid and RR,
my ex-boss Jeanmarie and her daughter Sophie Pie) and it was
early enough (before some silly football game) to have lots of space
for the 4 and 5 years olds to play crawl-cat and princess games and
we could chatter away while we pushed our food around. Lefty
O'Doul's is not gourmet cuisine, by any means, but it certainly is a
bargain and great for kids who mostly play with the mashed potatoes
and macaroni. Alas, no chocolate available. There are only two or
maybe three hof brau type restaurants left in SF, due to the fact that
we Northern Californians now insist on bbq'd carrots, etc.

today's the day!

It's Maverick's down at Half Moon Bay. I can't even write Pumpkinville
because this is a completely different side of that small town ~ and don't
call it a burb! Here I am last year and I don't know whether to wear the
red wet suit again (like my scarf, it matches my ~ oh, never mind) or
the bright yellow one that I know will look fabulous in the photos too.
Good luck to my fellow surfers. See you on the tonightly news!

slugs need noodles, naps & friends

We slithered out of the house for hot noodle soup at noon. SF has 433 noodle restaurants, but we love Mifune in Japantown. Usually we walk on Fillmore after lunch here, but it was just too
wet and dreary, so we rushed back home to be lazy. Sluggo helps not one bit, just in case you were wondering if it's some kind of grey day miracle druggo.
Then dinner over at The Great Plotniks! Here he is BBQing carrots in the rain. It was a truly fine evening and we felt alive-o just being with friends and talking about everything including politics. TGP kept wanting to take Iraq off the table and we wouldn't let him.
Home made pasta! Here is their machine which the Plotniks bought in Little Italy a few decades ago when they lived in NYC.
I had to crop this BBQ lamb chop photo too fuzzy-close because I had gnawed away at the other chop and the picture was most unattractive. Cooked perfectly and delicious, I hope you can see that. Then strong coffee and the Great Ducknik's fabulous sour cream lemon pie. It was a perfect evening and so nice to get out of Slug Haven and actually talk to smart, nice people!

thoughts from a frisco slug

I was going to use a photo of one of these creatures, but it made me feel even worse about my non-day Wednesday. The highlight was the trip to Costco and finding blueberries for an extremely reasonable price. Then I napped and read and looked out at the grey almost-rain
and checked my camera to see that the batteries are STILL WORKING. Yes, I know how to make the best of a day off.

Last night we watched this movie which takes place eight years before Russian Dolls. The same cast, only this time they are students in an apartment in Barcelona (where we've been, so that part was really nice). It was light hearted and I appreciated Dr. J telling me about it when we discussed the sequel, which I didn't know was a sequel at the time. The title means Spanish Apartment, but of course you knew that.

Now I'm either going to have another cup of coffee or a glass of Sluggo in the hopes that I can accomplish a little something or other today.

...and the shipfitter blues!

Ever since Husbando gave me a gloriously soft and luxurious red scarf for xmas, I've had this really stupid song floating around in my pathetic head. When someone says, "pretty scarf" and I say "it matches my eyes", they look at me with that look, you know the one ~ sort of tolerant and poor thingy. My friend Ginger (Kansas) used to sing this when the world was young, but no less complicated, I assure you. So I Googled the damn thing when I dragged home from the big box last night and here we go:

The song you are looking for was a one-hit-wonder by flash-in-the-pan artist Guy Marks. It was released in 1978:

LOVING YOU HAS MADE ME BANANAS
(Words and Music by Guy Marks)

OH, YOUR RED SCARF MATCHES YOUR EYES,
YOU CLOSED YOUR COVER BEFORE STRIKING,
FATHER HAD THE SHIPFITTER BLUES,
LOVING YOU HAS MADE ME BANANAS,

OH, YOUR RED SCARF MATCHES YOUR EYES,
YOU CLOSED YOUR COVER BEFORE STRIKING,
FATHER HAD THE SHIPFITTER BLUES,
LOVING YOU HAS MADE ME BANANAS,

OH, YOU BURNT YOUR FINGER THAT EVENING,
WHILE MY BACK WAS TURNED,
I ASKED THE WAITER FOR IODINE,
BUT I DINED ALL ALONE,

OH, YOUR RED SCARF MATCHES YOUR EYES,
YOU CLOSED YOUR COVER BEFORE STRIKING,
FATHER HAD THE SHIPFITTER BLUES,
LOVING YOU HAS MADE ME BANANAS.

testy times in the land of plenty

Is it my imagination, or are many of us a little on edge these days? A wise friend suggested that all the real and imagined emotions/memories/activities of the holidays are just now taking their toll and hyper sensitivity is the direct result. For instance:
Male customer: "do you have Such and Such A Book?"
Female manager: "I don't know" (getting ready to say, but I'll look it up)
MC: "do you work here or not?"
FM: wanting to say, no, I just wear the badge and walkie talkie as fetching accessories, but
instead muttering in a pissy manner, "I only wish I knew every book in the store, Sir!"

On a positive note, it is so nice having the city and the big box getting back to normal. Closing last night was pretty easy (with a few exceptions), compared to holiday hell and I could walk down Powell Street without getting pushed around, or vice versa. But I feel the tension and it seems like several of my friends are not displaying their typical glacial calm these past few days. This too shall pass...

Thanks to the internet for the storm clouds gathering photo, I'll return it tomorrow.

david mamet bites the hand that fed him

We both enjoyed this one act (!) Mamet play last night at ACT ~ it's fast-paced and witty and only drags a little in the second scene when "the secretary" enthusiastically carries on about making a movie of an exceedingly boring book. The title, I gather from my close friends at Google, refers to some biblical reference about good luck and let's get down to work. The play skewers Hollywood and movie executives and the whole art vs. business argument in a rather original way, especially since Mamet was the screenwriter for several successful movies including The Postman Always Rings Twice and The Untouchables. The best part was definitely the dialogue between the two (male) movie executives ~ friends for 11 years. Commano says, "go!" to Speed-The-Plow.

still escaping abroad

Neither one of us could remember why Russian Dolls was on the Flix® list and we both thought it would be one of those 1/2 hour and goodnight movies, but it was really lots of fun and of course you recognize the delightful Audrey Tautou in the still shot above. The cute guy 30ish hero up there takes us from Paris to London to St. Petersburg while he ponders his complicated and messy love life. It's almost like a travelogue with some casual sex and a little angst thrown in. No Kleenex® and a few honest chuckles ~ delightful scenes of three of the most interesting cities in the world.

wind, rain, inconvenience

Our electricity was off yesterday at home for several hours and then during the night and I am up too early again worrying that I might be late for work. At the big box we kept getting scary flickers, so we made sure every floor and desk had flashlights and we all reviewed what to do if the electricity fails. Quite a few trees are down, but as usual the burbs seem to suffer more than the actual city. It seems calm this morning. We are spoiled by normally nice weather here, so not many of us accept these Mother Nature is a Mother occurrences with a smile and a wave of the hand. Lots of callouts yesterday, but since we had more staff than customers, no harm was done. In fact, I almost cheered when someone phoned to say, "I can't come in today". And that, as you may have guessed, is not the normal me...

as the rain descends today...

(a friend sent this via email ~ often I'm the last to get these, so if you've seen it before, just move on, as Notthat would say...)

Subject: MENTAL HOSPITAL PHONE MENU

Hello and thank you for calling The State Mental Hospital.

Please select from the following options menu:

If you are obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.

If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5 and 6.

If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want, stay on the line so we can trace your call.

If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be forwarded to the Mother Ship.

If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will tell you which number to press.

If you are manic-depressive, it doesn't matter which number you press, nothing will make you happy anyway.

If you are dyslexic, press 9696969696969696.

If you are bipolar, please leave a message after the beep or before the beep or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have low self-esteem, please hang up our operators are too busy to talk with you.

If you are menopausal, put the gun down, hang up, turn on the fan, lie down and cry. You won't be crazy forever.

If you are blonde, don't press any buttons, you'll just mess it up.

to nurture our souls on a grey day

So far this graph in The Diving Bell and The Butterfly is my favorite. Remember the author is completely paralyzed except for the one working eye:

I receive remarkable letters. They are opened for me, unfolded, and spread out before my eyes in a daily ritual that gives the arrival of the mail the character of a hushed and holy ceremony. I carefully read each letter myself. Some of them are serious in tone, discussing the meaning of life, invoking the supremacy of the soul, the mystery of every existence. And by a curious reversal, the people who focus most closely on these fundamental questions tend to be people I had known only superficially. Their small talk had masked hidden depths. Had I been blind and deaf, or does it take the harsh light of disaster to show a person's true character?

paris on my mind...

This film is exceptional ~ little vignettes that everyone who has ever been to Paris, or thought about going (or not) will enjoy. 1/2 Kleenex® at the end, the happy kind...

I've had this book for years and never had the courage to read it, but now that the movie is coming out, I am doing so. As you probably know, it was written by a French man who was totally paralyzed at age 43. He communicates his thoughts by blinking his left eye. The human spirit keeps it from being depressing, even though Bauby died just days after publication.

Today ~ no smoking in bars, restaurants, cafes, etc. in France! Who ever thought that would happen? Our niece lives in Paris, and used to complain about the jerks who smoked at her gym. I bet she breathes easier today. Congratulations ~ makes one want to leap on a plane, grab 600,000 Euros and order (awkwardly) a fresh croissant with coffee in a bistro no longer filled with smoke. Then maybe a stroll by the river, over a bridge ~ get lost, get found...

i hereby resolve...

2008

Happy New Year, dear friends! Yes, we were able to close the store at 6pm last night, it helped having 3 people voicing constant overhead announcements and making odd little watch tapping and pushing motions to all the customers who don't speak English. Then of course waking the folks who sleep is always fun. Oooooops, didn't mean to kick you...

I came home to a grilled cheese sandwich and Trader Joe potato chips. I meant to take a photo of such elegance, but I forgot. Even though the batteries are still working (ahem). Anyway, I was happy to be home ~ the downtown was packed with folks who would never see the midnight hour, and I've always loved those hats that sparkle.

A few resolutions ~ just because it's fun to read other people's plans for the New Year:

1. push myself to try different kinds of writing ~ to that end I have signed up for a one day poetry class in February (we love The Writing Salon)
   
2. keep with the Round Robin daily writes ~ starting Jan. 22nd and already paid for!
3. big fix-up of our house ~ saving money frantically, as it will cost a bundle
4. clean up my home office (didn't I just do this? what happened?)
5. clean up my work office
6. read more books ~ the big box book loan program is one reason I am working there, did I forget that?
7. stay cool at work, remember the 401(k) goal and keep my head when all about me...
   
8. buy iPhone knockoff from Verizon® when prices go down
9. always do what's right, it's just so damn much easier
10. breathe

Happy, happy birthdays to the Blogmaid, Leah and Nicole today!

closing out the year...

I woke up early, thinking about the end of this year. My life/thoughts/actions are so small compared to Gandhi's. I have to reduce it all down to what I keep discovering over and over again: people change and always (it seems to me) in a good way. There are maybe 5 or 6 employees at work that I'm thinking about now ~ each I wanted to fire in the first or second week they were there. Now, after not even a year, they are not only adapting well, they are excelling in our store. I had very little to do with this, other than the small, "good job", from time to time. Mostly it's the support of the other booksellers and the fact that being around books and people who love them is a pretty nice way to earn a living. Of course the fact that the San Francisco minimum wage beginning tomorrow is $9.36 an hour ~ a HR manager's dream, if not exactly enough to live on, helps immensely.

On a personal level, about 10 years ago I made a concentrated effort to (now, no projectile vomiting here) embrace change. It's going to happen anyway, so why fight it? I guess it is another way for me to stay positive, but it works, especially in a big corporation where one change is followed by another and then one more to keep you on your toes. By now, of course, we are back to some policies and procedures from five years ago. I have trained myself when reading or hearing about something "new" to think and say, "okay, let's give this a whirl...I'm behind it!" Sure makes the Bossman's life easier. Yup, change happens...

And 2007 was full of changes, wasn't it? It's all about growth some days.

the flix® keeps us warm this winter

If you haven't seen Once yet, I would suggest you do. It is a cheery little movie filmed in Dublin, Ireland and it's about two musicians who meet on the street and that's enough, I don't want to give anything a way. See it, and I don't mean maybe!

Oh, my ~ I found this Edith Piaf film too distressing to finish (as did Husbando, but he gave it longer than I did) and then when The Doctor told me at lunch how much he enjoyed it, I felt like a dolt. The main actress is up for a Globe Award and of course the music is lovely. But so dark and depressing that I wouldn't recommend it for the world weary right now.

Naomi Watts has never really ridden a motorcycle, and here Doctor J and I agreed that there were just too many coincidences in Eastern Promises, although Viggo is always a pleasure to watch on screen. It is extremely violent, so I spent much of the movie looking at the xmas tree which now resides on our front curb. I can't recommend this film either. Sorry.

day four and still going strong

You can have your diamonds, pearls, cashmere ~ for Christmas Husbando gave me the Sanyo Ready-to-Use Rechargeable Battery Power Pack (from Costco) featuring these amazing Eneloop® batteries. I think he was a little tired of me cursing at my camera all the time when the batteries would die after about 8 hours, whether I used the camera or not. But perhaps you have experienced the same thing? Anyway, I have kept the same two batteries in my camera now for 4 straight days and so today I give them the Commano Excellent Product Award.

time to dismantle, disrobe

Sunset Scavengers (our garbage company) will be here early Monday and our xmas tree will be waiting for them in front of our house. Perhaps I'm one of the few people who likes the take-down as much as the putting-up of the decor. Then in a few weeks I'll be noting the people who STILL have their trees up and I'll check their porches to see if a pumpkin or two also remains. This photo is from my yesterday walk and I have a feeling that I'd like the people who live inside ~ the skull is a nice touch. Oh, it's back to work today, argh.

war on beige, continued...

I decided to try to cheer up a friend who is depressed due to the gruesome tiger mauling incident at the SF Zoo on Xmas Day.

She and I both love colorful houses. This is from my morning nabe walk and all these homes are in ONE block (Franconia).

Sorry, it's garbage day for these houses of color...

Nothing shy about this one!

One time I got lost in a beige SoCal community and it was truly horrifying.

Note the peace sign and the green door on the right...
Feel better!

a little culture, a lot of lunch

Louise Nevelson (at 80)

The Science Academy from 9th floor of the de Young (to reopen next Spring). The bare-treed music concourse looks European, no?

Lunch at the Park Chalet, right behind the Beach Chalet

We both enjoyed the massive and (to us) incomprehensible sculptures of Louise Nevelson this morning at the de Young. Interesting to note that she had one studio for all her white work and one for the other, darker pieces. She was one of those artists who gave everything to her creative talent and kept on working until she died in her nineties. Plus she was a character with her head scarves and sometimes 3 sets of fake eyelashes.

Then lunch at the Park Chalet. Although sunny today, it was too breezy to sit outdoors, but we loved this casual restaurant with a huge glass ceiling and good food. Lots of children and the kids were all well-behaved because the waiters brought each little darling a coloring book and crayons, allowing the adults to have their own conversations. Food? Salads, onion soup and the best fried onion rings (we think) in the city.

christmas with nigel

Here is Nigel, our grand dog who lives in Kensington

Jewish Burritos ~ aka, BLINTZES

We had some fine present-opening here before heading across the Bay Bridge for Christmas brunch with the middle son and his wife. It is unbelievably clear and beautiful in SF, not warm, but really quite special. Husbando surprised me by embracing his new cell phone and for the first time in many decades he was NOT reading the newspaper with his breakfast ~ he was (and is) reading the Verizon® manual! By now I have had maybe 10 little-used cell phones and never realized that people actually RTFM. I feared he would be resistant to the pesky mobile, so this experience proves once again that when I think I know someone so well ~ ooooops, wrong-again time! Now I think I feel a nap coming on...

last night crab, tonight clams

One of our favorite holiday traditions is the annual crab dinner
party at Neti and Frank's lovely home in Twin Peaks. We toss our
shells on the NYTimes and roll it all up before coffee and dessert.
Everyone was curious about the oil spill and the crab, but I'm
happy to report that we didn't see or taste any impurity. Neti
drives the crabs around until they settle down and stop scratching
in the bags and then bravely tosses them into the water and boils
them for her heartless/hungry guests. Yes, it refreshed me to be
with friends after my tiring customer-filled, escalator-broken-again?
day at the big box.

And now I have 3 relaxing and very special days off. I think a
movie tonight, so I'll make some pressed coffee to keep me awake.
The tree is lit, the fireplace is roaring and Husbando made some
from-scratch clam chowder (the white kind) for dinner tonight.
Merry Christmas everyone!

a likable scrooge

What I loved most about Mrs. Bob Cratchit's Wild Christmas Binge!
yesterday was leaving work 15 minutes early and allowing this little
SF Playhouse holiday special to separate my work and home life.
Otherwise, it really wasn't exactly fabulous, except every time Tiny
Tim fell down I did giggle a bit. I also enjoyed many of the anti-
holiday lines because they fit right into my humbuggy mood. In this
one instance I agree with The Great Plotnik and his superb review
in his most excellent theatre blog.

Two more days. I do want to clarify that my intolerance for tardy is
strictly work related. I pretty much accept less than perfection from
my friends, generously allowing them 6 minutes grace time.

report from the trenches

We open at 7am the next and final 3 days, so my sleep is even
more disturbed than usual. I haven't been late to ANYTHING ever,
except maybe 3 times in my life, which I agree is disgusting. But
because of this, I spend time not sleeping and worrying about being
late and I am too intolerant of those who are late. No fair, I know.

Our temps were the best ever this year and we still have about 19
of the original 21. I am honestly not working at the registers as
much as in the past at this time of year. I do help on the floor
in the crush of the crowds and here I wonder how come all these
people get to me so much? I do believe some enjoy the noise and
chaos, otherwise wouldn't they be out at the ocean?

Big sellers? Planet Earth DVD, Onions's Our Dumb World and all the
cookbooks and children's books in the store. We are running out of
a lot of items, but that happens. Three more days...

today ~ the winter solstice

(I borrowed this from the internet)

In many cultures, customs practiced at Christmas go back to pre-Christian times. Many involve divination--foretelling the future at a magic time: the season turning of solstice.

In Russia, there's a Christmas divination that involves candles. A girl would sit in a darkened room, with two lighted candles and two mirrors, pointed so that one reflects the candlelight into the other. The viewer would seek the seventh reflection, then look until her future would be seen.

The early Germans built a stone altar to Hertha, or Bertha, goddess of domesticity and the home, during winter solstice. With a fire of fir boughs stoked on the altar, Hertha was able to descend through the smoke and guide those who were wise in Saga lore to foretell the fortunes of those at the feast.

In Spain, there's an old custom that is a holdover from Roman days. The urn of fate is a large bowl containing slips of paper on which are written all the names of those at a family get-togehter. The slips of paper are drawn out two at a time. Those whose names are so joined are to be devoted friends for the year. Apparently, there's often a little finagling to help matchmaking along, as well.

In Scandinavia, some families place all their shoes together, as this will cause them to live in harmony throughout the year.

And in many, many cultures, it's considered bad luck for a fire or a candle to go out on Christmas Day. So keep those candles burning!

Yesterday at Ocean Beach, at sundown, a group of 5-6 men with their
pant legs rolled up, were writing down bad things from their lives in
the wet sand for the waves to carry out to sea. They had long wooden
writing sticks which they later burned in a bonfire. Then on the radio
coming home, someone mentioned that Christ was actually probably
born in the Spring, but the Christians needed a good reason to continue
the Solstice celebrations. Of course today is also the shortest day of
the year so scurry home early to your candles and fireplace...

we love the idea of Fringale

It has this delightful French bistro feel and the location down
at 4th and Brannan means easy (free) street parking, but last
night the food didn't seem as outstanding as usual. Husbando always
has the duck confit and I had steak and frites, as did one of our
friends. I believe Fringale (which means "the urge to eat" in
French) is going through a chef change, but we still had a lovely
time because the restaurant is so charming and we were happy to
be with old friends who know us so well, and vice versa. It was
truly a perfect evening, proving once again that it isn't always
about the food.

My solitary confinement worked wonders yesterday and I am ready for
battle again tomorrow. You might be amused by this customer exchange
which will show you some of my superb customer service skills:
Mean Man Customer in Blue Down Jacket: Are you the manager?
Mean Woman who Looks Like Me: Yes (eyeing him with dread)
MMan: It's too hot in here, why don't you turn down the heat?
MWoman: Why don't you take off your jacket?

An interesting aside. The heat/AC in our big box is controlled by HQ,
or not, in many cases. It's a constant source of frustration and
the subject of many emails.