Yes. I have been slacking on this here blog front.
Now that's out in the open - my birthday was grand. Chocolate fondue fountain is always a success. Also champagne. And good company. I was pleased by the whole event, especially one of my favorite customers who, finding out it was my birthday, went and got me flowers that she brought back a few moments later. I love that woman. They were gorgeous too...
Mike and I trekked to Seattle for a not so relaxing vacation involving his friend Genna getting married (which was a grand occasion and one of the quickest ceremonies I have ever been to in my life. Under ten minutes I think). It was fabulous to meet his friends from Boise and explore a new city that actually does experience summer. We rode a ferry and resolved to do more riding in boats; it's always a good time.
Fourth of July brought hordes to our home for 6 racks of ribs plus tons of other dead animal parts on the grill (with fixin's); a diverse mix made our stoop into a block party as all the roommates had friends (and their friends) show up. We discovered that people don't do much on sidewalks here so we got some funny looks. But the foldup couch/futon is a great seating arrangement next to the little tree out front. And watching fireworks through fog is kind of like being on the ground during the blitz. There's haze of colored lights, not the details. Especially as they explode in the fog so you get half firework, half fuzzy light.
Sarah's ribs were off the hook. BBQ sauce was a revelation - it simmered for seemingly hours on the stove. Have I mentioned that I love my roommates?
The job search is revived again. Will keep you posted. Promise.
In other recent news, got a visit from uncle Jim and aunt Chuck, cousins Henry & Joe. We walked around a large part of San Francisco. Ate sourdough, got fortune cookies from a bakery/factory... and walked some more. I loved it!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Lamb and opera. and baseball.
Word to the wise - summer and San Francisco is not a time of warmth and sun. It's a time of deception, the cold and wet week, the questioning of why I still own tank tops.
(To answer the last question, it's because there are sometimes periods of warmth midday where basking in the sun is a great idea. They're over by 6 p.m. though.)
Friday night was spent at Opera in the Park, a live simulcast of Tosca from the San Francisco Opera house on a giant screen at, coincidentally, Giant's stadium. I mean, AT&T Park. Mike and I met a couple of friends there and we found seats on the field itself. Ballpark grass is incredible plush stuff. And very green. Sitting in left field we had decent neighbors, luckily the women in front of us left at the first intermission so we could stretch our legs out. They couldn't deal with the music apparently.
There was something wonderful about a clear night, bright moon, breeze off the water and a stadium packed with people all watching an opera while having snacks and drinking whatever they smuggled in illegally or bought at an overpriced concession stand. Popcorn and tragedy go surprisingly well together. Also great was when Tosca stabbed the evil police chief (who you understand is evil because he comes in wearing black and is a baritone) people cheered and clapped, then someone yelled "You go Tosca!"
Not your average opera-going crowd.
My bike went flat on the ride over, so Sarah (who joined us for the third act and we smuggled her onto the field) and I wandered towards Market street to get out of the crowd that thinned with every block and caught buses towards home and her friend's place. Just a fun evening, looking forward to the next one in September.
And then, last night, a revelation in lamb. Delicious. Sarah got some pieces that were too small to serve at her restaurant, but perfect size for us. Leaving the artist to her work, a plate of quinoa with lemon juice and herbs, lamb porterhouse, and delicious greens with a balsamic & dried cherry pan reduction appeared before my exhausted eyes. Incredible.
Also Sunday brought me to the Alameda antique market right at its end. Jaylan and I had some issues since the website gave a location that wasn't correct, so lots of driving around the deserted naval base in a zippy champagne colored mini cooper. So hip. We found interesting things to look at, but nothing to bring home except some odd painted postcards for her, a Moroccan tea table for Sarah. Shala found the best: a gorgeous stained glass lampshade that apparently is worth more than the seller knew. It was about the size of her trunk, luckily she has high ceilings and the space for it in her new pad.
Next adventures for the Grove household include making yogurt, more meat experiments, and my figuring out what I'll be doing for my birthday in two weeks. Huzzah!
(To answer the last question, it's because there are sometimes periods of warmth midday where basking in the sun is a great idea. They're over by 6 p.m. though.)
Friday night was spent at Opera in the Park, a live simulcast of Tosca from the San Francisco Opera house on a giant screen at, coincidentally, Giant's stadium. I mean, AT&T Park. Mike and I met a couple of friends there and we found seats on the field itself. Ballpark grass is incredible plush stuff. And very green. Sitting in left field we had decent neighbors, luckily the women in front of us left at the first intermission so we could stretch our legs out. They couldn't deal with the music apparently.
There was something wonderful about a clear night, bright moon, breeze off the water and a stadium packed with people all watching an opera while having snacks and drinking whatever they smuggled in illegally or bought at an overpriced concession stand. Popcorn and tragedy go surprisingly well together. Also great was when Tosca stabbed the evil police chief (who you understand is evil because he comes in wearing black and is a baritone) people cheered and clapped, then someone yelled "You go Tosca!"
Not your average opera-going crowd.
My bike went flat on the ride over, so Sarah (who joined us for the third act and we smuggled her onto the field) and I wandered towards Market street to get out of the crowd that thinned with every block and caught buses towards home and her friend's place. Just a fun evening, looking forward to the next one in September.
And then, last night, a revelation in lamb. Delicious. Sarah got some pieces that were too small to serve at her restaurant, but perfect size for us. Leaving the artist to her work, a plate of quinoa with lemon juice and herbs, lamb porterhouse, and delicious greens with a balsamic & dried cherry pan reduction appeared before my exhausted eyes. Incredible.
Also Sunday brought me to the Alameda antique market right at its end. Jaylan and I had some issues since the website gave a location that wasn't correct, so lots of driving around the deserted naval base in a zippy champagne colored mini cooper. So hip. We found interesting things to look at, but nothing to bring home except some odd painted postcards for her, a Moroccan tea table for Sarah. Shala found the best: a gorgeous stained glass lampshade that apparently is worth more than the seller knew. It was about the size of her trunk, luckily she has high ceilings and the space for it in her new pad.
Next adventures for the Grove household include making yogurt, more meat experiments, and my figuring out what I'll be doing for my birthday in two weeks. Huzzah!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Yay!
Right quick since I have to get up early in the morn...
Mike got into grad school at SFSU (known as "state" if you're in the know around these parts). It's incredibly exciting and he'll start in the fall, so that's just a bunch of good.
I've been working crazy hours as I get more tutoring, travel to Indiana and all the while attempt, well, a semblance of sanity.
Meanwhile yesterday it was 90, today barely mid 60s, misty and lots of wind. Yet more joys of the bay.
Mike got into grad school at SFSU (known as "state" if you're in the know around these parts). It's incredibly exciting and he'll start in the fall, so that's just a bunch of good.
I've been working crazy hours as I get more tutoring, travel to Indiana and all the while attempt, well, a semblance of sanity.
Meanwhile yesterday it was 90, today barely mid 60s, misty and lots of wind. Yet more joys of the bay.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Tolerance
It's a virtue. Like patience, right? One of those things that I've been working on my whole life.
And yet I've discovered that working with the public five days a week is strangely changing my personality. My capacity for fools is probably about the same, but I can be at least surface-level polite for a longer period of time with those I face across the counter. So that's a plus.
However, now when I have time off I don't want to deal with idiots. At all. And thus my social tolerance has dwindled; I can't stand people who puff themselves up on the first meeting much like a bird in a nature episode. I see your plumage. And your disdain that I work in a coffeeshop instead of a dot com, a non-profit, anything else a trendy liberal arts graduate should be doing in this oh-so-trendy city.
Perhaps it's the cliche that rubs them the wrong way.
I take insult perhaps too quickly, am too harsh in my judgments when we start hanging out. But then again, if who you really are doesn't impress people, why bother trying to change? Sorry, I know the answer to that question - I think I'm suffering from a venue issue. That those who travel seem to do it on trust funds and look at me oddly when I talk about struggling through moving to the US in a period of crisis.
Will just keep keeping on. And hopefully get more phone calls at the right time so I can duck socializing that isn't actually an obligation. Perhaps I need to hide in the woods...
And yet I've discovered that working with the public five days a week is strangely changing my personality. My capacity for fools is probably about the same, but I can be at least surface-level polite for a longer period of time with those I face across the counter. So that's a plus.
However, now when I have time off I don't want to deal with idiots. At all. And thus my social tolerance has dwindled; I can't stand people who puff themselves up on the first meeting much like a bird in a nature episode. I see your plumage. And your disdain that I work in a coffeeshop instead of a dot com, a non-profit, anything else a trendy liberal arts graduate should be doing in this oh-so-trendy city.
Perhaps it's the cliche that rubs them the wrong way.
I take insult perhaps too quickly, am too harsh in my judgments when we start hanging out. But then again, if who you really are doesn't impress people, why bother trying to change? Sorry, I know the answer to that question - I think I'm suffering from a venue issue. That those who travel seem to do it on trust funds and look at me oddly when I talk about struggling through moving to the US in a period of crisis.
Will just keep keeping on. And hopefully get more phone calls at the right time so I can duck socializing that isn't actually an obligation. Perhaps I need to hide in the woods...
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