Blog Archives

There was something in the air this morning, when I went out back to check on the garden. The sun hadn’t poked over the horizon, so the light still had a blue cast. And in this light, the yellow flowers in our back garden really popped, but in an eerie way. Very fitting to start Halloween. (Plus, I thought that they looked like candles on a birthday cake…quite appropriate!)

As I turn 38, I jotted a few quick back-of-the-envelope calculations to reveal that I’ve flown around 500,000 miles in my lifetime. Using some average flight times, I estimate that I have spent the equivalent of over 45 days on a plane. And yet, I am certainly a homebody.

As an example, I certainly do not feel adventurous or worldly when it comes to food. Don’t get me wrong…I love world flavors…just refined in a comfortable way.

Sure. I fondly remember eating scrapple growing up, but I draw the line at eyeballs.

Ripped from the headlines of Conde Nast Traveler: Chicago’s very own Tito’s Tacos. Apparently, for just $1.25 you can munch on the house specialty, the taco de ojo (eyeball taco). The eyeballs are “jawbreaker sized” and covered in their natural “gelatinous white tissue”. Don’t forget the garnish, which consists of “grilled onions, green chilies, and stringy shreds of brain.” Steamed cow’s brain, FYI.

Let’s face it. I’m squeamish. It’s a good thing I became an engineer and not a doctor. At least not an eye doctor. 🙂

Happy Halloween!

I don’t think you can truly appreciate work-life balance–or lack thereof–until you have seen the other side. Washington, DC will kill you. I wish I was back in San Francisco at home in my garden sipping wine with Jeff.

Another magical fog weekend. Last night, Jeff and I attended an end-of-summer BBQ in Bernal Heights. In addition to our warm hosts and interesting guests, the fog made an appearance as well–rolling over the western hills just in time for dusk. From Bernal Heights, you could watch the fog pile up against the hills and then–like a plugged sink–roll right on over into Noe Valley below. Made for a spectacular sunset. And a chilly evening afterwards.

Today, we walked through the Marina District, under the classic Palace of Fine Arts, through the Presidio, and out to Crissy Field. All along, the sun shined brightly, but the Golden Gate fog horn told us that the fog had returned. Sure enough, even though we walked in warm rays, boats and birds were engulfed in a thick fog on the Bay.

Honestly, the world moves too fast for its own good.

According to Time magazine, the Amish are in the midst of a debate on whether or not to permit the usage of cell phones by their community–“someone found a loophole in the phone rule, discovering it was very specific about not allowing wires from the outside world into their houses.”

Well, I would like to help their discussion along. I want to give them my cell phone for a month. Then they will drop the whole crazy idea. ENJOY THE QUIET WHILE YOU CAN.

I think that I’m ultra-sensitive to this topic this week, because we happen to be scant days away from voting on–get this–17 ballot measures. Not only that, but have all the fun hot-button topics up for grabs this time: abortion, handgun bans, and military recruiting in schools are all covered. (The assembly must not have gotten their “Protect Marriage from the Huns…I mean Heathens…I mean Gays” amendment ready in time. I think while they are working on defining marriage, the ultra-right is thinking of banning marriage between ugly people too.)

Anyhow…I digress. What I meant to speak to is the problem that Election Day has brought into the spotlight. And that is that I cannot pick up a phone any more. Our home phone is the domain of the telemarketers (STILL), the politicians, and the pollsters. My office phone is the domain of all the vendors that want to work with my company. And my cell phone…well…that is still for friends and family…except that the voice quality is so bad that my friends stop calling me. My final defense against life’s marauders is the front door…and the election has kindly sent throngs to my door to speak to me personally.

Sigh. So, now people Instant Message me to get my attention. And it works. “Hey. That’s my calling you on your office phone. Its safe to pick it up!”

So, the Amish can have my phones and my doorbell and don’t GET ME STARTED ABOUT MY EMAIL. So many ways to reach me, but everyone thinks that I’m ignoring them. I’m really not. I just can’t sift through it all.