Firstly, a grand con-grada-lations (it's a long story) to Katie, who is growing a tiny, tiny little baby in her tummy! I am inordinately excited about it. :-)
Secondly, since I amuse myself to no end, I am pasting an email that I wrote to my friends and family probably in 2002/03-ish when I lived in Sonora and every small detail was fodder.
And a happy Monday evening to ya'll. It's 11 p.m. and I just recently got home from a weekend jaunt in the Bay Area, spent mostly doing laundry and eating my parents' food while staring blankly at clothing I can't afford in catalogs and rather disgustedly at "Trading Spaces," during an episode in which a rotund designer named Frank decided to "Aruba-cize" someone's bedroom by painting it bright teal blue. The end result was quite awful.
So I haven't written in at least a few weeks, I guess, but I've been just a busy little bee. A few weekends ago, I visited Fresno, land of ... well, many things, and not many of them good. But the important thing was I met up with old Spartan Daily folks Mike, Michelle and Minal - don't fault them for all having names that start with "M." We ate a lot of meat and did a lot of talking, took a tour of the posh Fresno Bee and saw "Matchstick Men," which I highly recommend.
The following weekend involved a trip to San Francisco's Sharon Meadow with Jacq for the Now and Zen Festival, which featured Duran Duran and Seal among others. It was quite fun although it was the only blisteringly hot day in SF all year and barely a spot of shade was to be found. And the vendors all ran out of water, prompting Jacq to file a complaint with security, who looked at her like, "Sure lady, I'll get right on that."
Jacq is Jacq. Jacq did not want to wait in the mile-long line for 45 minutes and truly believed she should not have to, seeing as how she is a cute chick and guys should WANT her to cut in front of them. But having been more of a normal looking person for most of my life, I realized that if we even suggested that we'd cut in line to those who'd already been waiting for a while, we'd be quickly murdered and buried and no one would be the wiser.
Poison Oak Update: I am convinced that whatever I STILL HAVE is not poison oak and that the doctor I saw should, perhaps, try to cut in line at the Now and Zen Fest and see what happens. I itch. My arms, my neck, my everything itches. What sort of doctor prescribes prednisone for poison oak? Have any of you ever taken this for that? No? I did not think so. What's more is I am pretty sure the prednisone has made me start to go crazy. I'd elaborate, but it's ... involved.
So there are a couple of different wars going on in Sonora right now, the first one being that which my landlady (Ernie for those not in the know) is waging against the poor, unsuspecting deer. The deer (which some locals refer to as the rats of the Sierra) managed to weasel their way UNDER her 8-foot-tall fence and chomp on her apple trees and other plants. You'll recall Ernie terrorized one buck until it broke its own neck on the fencepost and died in the yard. Well. I noticed a fawn and a mama deer in the yard the other day and decided to try to shoo them out before The Landlady noticed, but alas. She noticed. The deer did not escape unscathed. The mom did but the baby ended up breaking its own leg and somehow hobbling out like a wounded soldier and disappearing. It's probably dying a horribly agonizing and slow death in the woods somewhere.
The second battle is one Minal will appreciate. I call it Operation Eradicate Backfat. It's being waged by myself and several unsuccessful coworkers who continue to go on cookie runs to the enemy's lair, called Bon Apetit, aka The Pie Tin. The Pie Tin has managed to perfect its cookie weapons and scoffs at our valiant attempts to avoid them as they practically jump from the jars into our mouths like scud missiles. They're so confident in their ability to promote backfat that they brazenly post the number of cookies they've made throughout the week. Saturday, I noticed, it was up to some horrific number, like 274, most of which were consumed by unsuspecting reporters.
Ok. Moving right along.
I am thinking of being Dolly Parton for Halloween. But I'm officially asking YOU for your advice. I need to be something really cool because it's going to be hard to top last year's costume - Princess Leia. I had buns and everything. And I've never been blonde for Halloween so that's the goal this year, whatever the costume ends up being, it just has to include a blonde wig. If you come up with the best idea, why, you'll get a mention in these lovely neverending emails.
Mmmm. By the way, in the "Who do I look like series," I now have been said to look like a person named Jennifer Irwin, who plays someone's sister on a show I never watch - "Still Standing." Our tech guy at work, Derek, who I'm convinved does nothing all day, is on a quest to find my perfect match. He's the one who came up with the largely unflattering and big-nosed Patty Souza, the local weather girl on channel 3.
So I am a bad person and I never added a couple of former co-workers of mine to the email list - Nadia and Stephen. They are easily the coolest people I had the privilege of hanging out with outside of work and MAN can they slam those margaritas. We had loads of fun talking smack about everyone and their mama and pulling pranks on eachother, such as the time Nadia hid chocolate bars in Stephen's sandwich. A priceless moment, I assure you. Stephen made Nadia and I name placard thingies that say "Freak #1" and "Freak #2." I am Freak #2 and I put it on my desk at work so that people have fair warning before they decided to actually talk to me.
Anyway, welcome Nadia and Stephen to the list, although I couldn't remember Stephen's last name, so Nadia, could you please forward this on to him?
I hope everyone's week has started off well. Fight the good fight!
I always did love those emails!ReplyDelete
so much has changed, but alas... not the backfat.ReplyDelete