On something. He looks like he's walking a tightrope holding a plate of food precariously perched on one hand. Shoveling food into his mouth. This might be the last square meal he has for a while. He probably won't remember it. And I can't help staring. His friend is following carefully after him and I watch with a smile frozen on my face. There isn't any other look I have for what I am feeling and it isn't until his friend comes over to me, leans across the dessert table and hugs me with a tight grip, an open heart and a foul smell that I feel like crying. He calls me smiles and says, with regret, they won't be coming back for seconds and looks at his friend. And I am still frozen in a smile and I hate myself because I want to go shower. It hurts to think about even now.

Serving the homeless food on Christmas eve leaves me feeling hopeless and spoiled. Glimpses of relief come with gratefulness in the form of a homemade ornament gifted by a little Asian woman who walks quickly and with command hands me the origami goose she made. It's only when there is no room for pity, or in this case the trading of goods, a goose for a brownie, that I don't feel hopeless. Every year I decide to do more, in the hopes that eventually I can breath more freely knowing I am making a difference. Every year I completely forget by Christmas day. This year, 2011 I am making a pledge to actually do some more volunteering. Remind me in a week okay.

So sorry to overwhelm you. But I'll leave you with this. Today I went to get coffee and as I was walking back to my apartment I saw a homeless man. I usually make eye contact and say hello although we know this can backfire sometimes. He was perched against his shopping cart, cigarette in one hand newspaper in the other I smiled and said good morning and you know what sometimes it pays off because he looked up from reading his newspaper, smiled and in what I imagine was a cockney accent said "Ello darling" and went back to reading the paper. So there is it, this world is crazy, sad, and sometimes hopeless but then pleasant surprises come at the most unexpected time and stay with you the whole day.

Happy New Year! See you in 2011 for what's sure to be another great year.

Festival Opera Pop's Up in the Ferry Building

Here and gone and back again. Something about hearing Steely Dan's "Hey Nineteen" on the radio yesterday, the chill in the air and the sun shining on the clean rain clouds that were slowly retreating to rain on someone else's day made me want to write to you. Don't ask me. Steely Dan doesn't usually illicit such a response. But that's the power of music yo.

After the warm and rainy Queensland Christmas I had last year (I was in fact driving a tractor on a banana farm December 23, 2009) it's particularly festive to have a real Christmas Tree and imagine santa in something other than board-shorts. They don't really suit him.

In the works since I left for Australia last fall has been a certain surprise opera at the Ferry Building. An effort that my brothers Opera teacher came up with, as inspired by this -Opera en el Mercado - to raise money and excitement for Walnut Creek's Festival Opera which, as many of the arts are, is suffering. My favorite part by far is people's expressions as they take in the music and surprise of the moment. It's a short three minute song but I imagine the smiles people had from it lasted the whole day, hopefully longer. He caught some of the reactions that give me chills. Particularly the guy filming with his Iphone. I love this guy and hope he shared his video with someone who missed it and I hope you will too!

Warmth, and well wishes await you and if you're naughty a platter of cheese does too.

Merry Christmas!

In all seriousness...It a little bit bothers me that my brother gets hit on by men more than me.

Lindsey says I am haven't been blogging lately which is mostly true. I have been thinking about it. Dreaming about what I am going to write to you. The skateboarders who barrel down our hill then wipe out. I laugh. The Kiki incident at Safeway in which I am running late and the tranny in front of me at the castro safeway decides to haggle the price of produce, needs her groceries triple bagged and then has a cab called for her only to solicit a $10 ride from the guy parked right next to me preventing me from getting into my car to drive over a cliff. I was going to write about all of these things but life got in the way.

The girls came over for pumpkin carving pre-Halloween and I thought I would make something the night before that I could just heat up. Failure. In that it wasn't ready when anyone showed up. That being said the Squash soup was a great success. So here I will share the recipe with you. It is easy but be warned cuttting an acorn squash with a mediocre knife is not only life threatening but you'll need almost as much patience as if Kiki was in front of you haggling the price of produce...at Safeway.

Squash Soup w/ gryuere croutons and Sage

(Loosely translated from a fine cooking recipe amalgamated with some recipe online) you get the point. This yields 1 large batch of soup to serve 5 people. I had leftover squash so I made an entire second batch but it will depend on the size of your squashes? Squash? Squashi?

1 Acorn Squash - the green one -

1 Butternut Squash - the big yellow oddly shaped one -

1 large onion

4 cloves of garlic

Fresh Sage - 2 to 3 tablespoons

32 ounces of Chicken or vegetable broth (one carton) this can be adjusted for consistency

Salt, pepper, ground ginger to taste

Cream (optional) but recommended

Gruyere (technically optional but how boring are you if you skip the cheese)

Cut squash in halves, peel and cube. Try not to loose a finger. It is not easy. Working in sections should help. Rumor has it you can make this easier by roasting it in half a little bit first but I can't attest to this. I did it the hard way. You need 2 cups of each squash.

Sauté onion and garlic in 1-2 tablespoons olive oil or butter. Add all (4) cups of squash. Add Broth. Add sage. Season as desired. Bring mixture to a boil and let it simmer till the squash is very soft. Turn off the heat and get ready for the messy part. You're going to blend the mixture in the food processor unless you are lucky and have an immersion blender. If you have my medium size Cuisinart this takes about 3 or 4 batches. Transfer blended mixture back into pot. Heat it back up and add cheese and or cream to taste. Et Voila. Croutons and/or crusty bread with melted cheese are highly recommended.

Also I added Chopped up sauteed spicy Italian sausage as a garnish in the second batch. It was delicious. Let me know how it goes or thoughts on whether you think perhaps adding a little wasabi powder to spice it up might be a bad idea? I can't decide.

Peace and gruyere croutons!

Hot Mess in the Haight

Kitty corner to my last apartment there were flashing neon lights above the corner market. You know this corner market. The one with 4 cans of tuna, a random assortment of sewing accessories and a box of cereal from 1996. The only merchandise recently updated is the fully stocked refrigerators with overpriced beer and the top door ice cream freezers...the two, I think, go hand in hand. I suppose you couldn't say these lights washed our walls in red and green but you could see them from 10 block away and they were ever present, at least until 11pm each night. This apartment also had glazing in the windows from the late 1800's when it was probably a brothel or something more interesting than an apartment building. So even when the windows were closed the blinds would flap in the breeze. I have fond memories of 1400 Washington St. where the cable car shook the windows as it passed by and Oh! the garbage men and their bi-weekly life updates that you could hear carried up through the trash shute loud and clear on Wednesday and Saturday morning at around 5 am. It's city living and San Francisco, just like any city, has its idiosyncrasies. The ones that make you laugh and scream and keep you up at night.

We carved pumpkins at 1400, which I hadn't done in about 15 years. I had bought a carving kit at Walgreens and just found it unpacking my extraordinarily random assortment of kitchenware I have collected over the years of living with roommates and hand me downs. We carved pumpkins 2 years ago before, LA, Australia, New York and Tahoe. Before couples began cohabitating and the engagements began (Congratulations Liz and Eric, Jessica and Nate!)

It's been a year since I have lived in the city, and a year of living out of bags, in temporary situations not really knowing what, where, when but I always had a bag packed and ready. So now I'm here. New neighborhood, a brother for a roommate, a new and not entirely pleasant smell to the lobby entry. New bus sounds and neighborhood resturants, cafes and corner shops with nothing but beer. All still to be discovered... and a new kitchen to carve pumpkins in with old friends!

Happy new beginnings, for whatever that means to you today! For me it's amazing water pressure and the apparently ever present challenge of navigating Market St.

See you soon with a new recipe and on Kiki, my neighborhood tranny.

In which I find the silver lining of commuting... a permanently raspy voice from solo car sing-a-longs. I think that's a good thing, no?

Last night I saw Eat, Pray, Love...the movie. And I didn't hate it. But lets thank Mr. Bardem for that. He's appreciated multi-generationally. My Mom and I both have a crush on him and had my grandmother gone she would have certainly thought he would be suitable for me to marry. Actually Grandma's not so concerned about the marriage as she is me just dating which certainly shows how much I have deprived her the enjoyment a grandparent gets from seeing their granddaughter dating attractive young men. The old bird had enough beau's for both of us but she is unexpectedly very much a romantic. Love at first site and one man for all time kind of gal. Well anyway that's for another day. The point is Javier basically saved Elizabeth Gilbert and Julia Roberts. They did take her most redeeming quotes. The ones that might make you laugh, cry and really think for a minute. But I think for me it exacerbated how contrived I thought the book was to begin with. I won't continue. Especially since, despite it all I still cried when the Indian girl got married.

So I have been gone a while and with my current commute these ramblings to you will come less often. Over an hour each way to my jobsite is painful and yet I am happy to be starting work again. Only more so since the people I am working with are great, and two times last week I was on the phone with vendor's who remembered me from previous projects. A friendly voice on the other end of the line, complete stranger that they are. A name at the bottom of a quote, email or even someone whose a passing reference and then you meet them in person, put the name with the face or hear the recognition in their voice of you after more than a year. It makes the world feel a little bit smaller. Even when you are commuting farther than you ever thought you would. Playing "Thriller" more than anyone ever should within one hour. But here's the thing. If I could I would write to you in those spare minutes in the car. I wonder if there is a dictaphone App?

Anyway, fall is here. At least in San Francisco the air is crisp. A nice way of saying cold I suppose but I'm going for it because crisp is so much nicer than chilly. Happy Fall. Happy new beginnings. Does this seem a little more upbeat than normal? Maybe Elizabeth rubbed off on me more than I care to admit.

"Sweet Chandlier, Prepare to Be Impressed" and other stories of SF apartment hunting....

It’s been a great summer, more than memorable. I feel like I’m in the last scene of St. Elmo’s fire when the crew parts for the last time. Goodbyes are said, freedom is reliquished to the life in the real working world. Regrets gone. And Demi, does she even looks any different then than now? I think not, which is both disturbing and awe-inspiring at the same time. Ask me, have the urges to have crazy life experiences like governessing in the outback or becoming live in crew on a sailboat/yacht (those sailor shirts are so in this season I can’t help picture it) completely subsided. No. But with some mild sedatives and the promise of living back in beautiful San Francisco I think they might become more manageable although they will never be completely gone. Don’t loose hope for wild stories to come. There was always plenty of material in SF thanks in part to the bus system, the cable car drivers and what I am sure will be a slew of apartment complaints disguised with humor and sarcasm.

So anyway after Labor Day it’s back to SF life. I am going to miss this, that and the other being time to devote to yoga, the food network and excessive vacuuming but with a new job lined up, new people to meet, old relationships to rekindle (sadly not the romantic kind) I am looking forward to it. I mean it. No really not even a hint of sarcasm about being excited to back and work 9-5 with an awesome commute to Sunnyvale, leaving behind smiling Tahoe City faces and bike riding along the Truckee River. Ok I can’t talk about it anymore.

In other news Petuniaface girl’s most recent post suggests we use day laborers who don’t get jobs as massage therapists. I just wish I had thought of it first. It’s win win, no?

But anyway. It’s on to new and different. Old and the same. If I sound like I can’t make up my mind right now it’s because finding an apartment in San Francisco is like finding a needle in a stack of horse manure you have to sift through a lot of shit to find the right one. For example, I am no longer looking at lisitings with the word “elegant” in the description. Also yesterday there was one listed as “apartment great for person 5’-4” and under” I mean if that doesn’t make you weep from laughter than it should make you weep out of pity for me. So I’m done whinging. Off to enjoy my remaining week in Tahoe.

See you in San Francisco where the wind blows, the sun doesn’t really shine but the food is really delicious. Wish me luck, I’ve been in perpetual summer for one year exactly so shock to the system is not an understatement at all.

I'm out. Peace, love and maybe some paddleboarding. What do you think?

Lalime's 25th Anniversary: After two of Stacy's cocktails I felt pretty emotional about the whole thing.

A couple weeks ago I went to Lalime’s 25^th anniversary dinner which mirrored my own birthday within a week. It put into perspective what absolute nuts my Aunt and Uncle were at the time (still are) for opening a resturant with two kids under 5 years old in 1985. Nuts. The food was great the cocktails scrumptious, but then again it always is and they always are. A video of my Uncle flipping crepes in the original kitchen they now fondly call “Little Lalimes,” since the restaurant has moved to a knew location, was a highlight for me. Not just for the amazing haircuts and svelt figures all the adults have but also it was a glimpse into a world where flipping crepes while your entire family is occupying your entire tiny restaurant is about all you could want for in the world. At least that’s how it appears to me now. I was one at the time so my memory doesn’t serve me at all except in the case of later playing hide and seek in the kitchen and painstakingly folding the monthly mailers that always have a special something written to the readers. Even if only “Rack of lamb, spring onion jam, with rapini pesto and spiced yogurt” Pure poetry.

I am so lucky to have been eating this food for the last 25 years. But in our case “The Krikorian Case” it’s not just about the food, it’s about the company that comes to eat the food and also the process that goes into it, love. Labors and labors of love. Of course I haven’t been there for it all but my first experiences in San Francsico’s Rincon center spent as a child hanging out at the original “Jimmy Beans” I still can’t go there today with thinking about it and running through the ceiling waterfall after hours. And when Uncle H was putting together the concept behind T-Rex I remember the mock-up menu with Leslie’s spare ribs. Each item a reflection of our family. Little bits and pieces here and there. If they were going to name anything after me I would respectfully request T-Rex’s beef jerky be under my name sake (see it’s thin, delicious and packs a punch!) or maybe Jimmy Beans Tortilla Eggs (spicy and filled with protein? Maybe this metaphor thing is going a little too far) The reviewers haven’t always raved, the business hasn’t always boomed but I am so lucky that I have grown up around the simple (not simple at all) business of serving people the most basic and delicious form of nourishment the body needs. A short stack of Silver dollar pancakes served after dark. Come to think of it light, fluffy and sweet, I'll take that namesake too, maybe not too fluffy though...

Happy 25^th Little Lalimes. May we all someday be able to flip crepes without looking, two at a time with the flick of the wrist.

*Stacy's cocktail pictured above. A delicious "Frenchman" I think is what it's called.

Wanderlusting: Peace, Love and Lulu

I'm here today - mountainlotusyoga.blogspot.com - Or here for the week since you haven't heard from me in at least that long!

Please note references to crazy hippie's, my lulu lemon lust and the amount of time I spent relaxing in a bar after my yoga classes were kept to a minimum because it was a guest blog. But just let your imagination and knowledge of my love for beer and margarita's run wild. That should about cover it.

If you were wondering about new new obsession with Shiva Rea see image for her fabulousness. I took this class. It was pretty much amazing.

Peace People.

Stay gold Pony Boy. Stay Gold.

*Image above of Shiva Rea by tinywater. For more fesitival photos click here. Wanderlust Festival Website

Chili Blanco and on my new Tripod Status...Booyeah I'm a Nerd

This should be every indication that I have too much time on my hands. But then again you already knew that and maybe judged me for it. It’s been a great week in which I celebrated my 26^th Birthday on every possible occasion. Homemade sushi, sparkle cupcakes (no really) and also I floated down the river with 17 strangers and several good friends. All of whom were great sports in that they told me it was all in celebration of me and sang me Happy Birthday. Who could be so lucky. Floating the river, as it always is, was messy. Lost sunglasses, wet food and more than a few flipped inner tubes. Just the way it should be. Today I detoxed from it all with laundry and also I cooked, because that’s what you do when you watch the foodnetwork 4 to 5 hours per day. I started to make chili blanco, but half way in realized I didn’t have green chili’s, so abandoned it temporarily and started to make homemade caramel sauce for my Granny Smith’s and then realized I didn’t have brown sugar. So basically total success in that I completely failed. Abandoned all effort at productivity and settled in for my first experience of Jersey Shore. The marathon. And for that I have only three words. Tan. Gym. Laundry. Jersey was just put on my long list of places to visit. Mainly I want to experience a place where fist punching and over groomed men is the typical not the acception. I also feel dumber for watching it. Go Snooki go.

The chili blanco has been made as has the carmel sauce but its too late for me to eat it now. Also I took my Birthday present, my grandfather’s tripod, out to the park by our house and shot the moon. It was difficult getting the focus right, my composition might be muddled because I was like twisted in a knot trying to see into the viewfinder and by the time I finished I was dirty and out of breath but that’s just the altitude people. It was magical and worth every second of frustration. Also I think I need a filter to get the moon right. See Click for the results.

Chili Blanco is delicious, healthy and will feed 5/6 people as a main which means single me will be eating it all week. Or as long as I can make it last anyway! Thanks Murchisons for the recipe!

Chili Blanco Recipe

1 large white onion

3 cloves garlic

1 can each cannelloni beans & white beans

2 cans diced green chili’s

1 can chicken broth

6 boneless skinless chicken breasts

Salt, Pepper, Red Chili Flakes and Cumin to taste

Garnish with sour cream and cilantro

Optional Jack Cheese for added yum factor

Poach the chicken in a large pot while you chop then sautee the onion and garlic in olive oil in a separate pot. Add the beans, green chili, chicken broth and spices to the sautéed mixture and bring it to simmer for 30 minutes. While that simmers shred or chop the chicken and finally add it to the simmering mixture. The chili is thick with chicken so I suppose you could use less if you wanted. Garnish with cilantro, sour cream and cheese or add it in while it’s still cooking.

In other news I am volunteering at Wanderlust this coming weekend in Squaw Valley. So stay tuned for stories of yogic breakthroughs, and lulu lust. I’ll be wearing my “Spiritual Gangster” tank. I plan on it being a big hit.

13.1 Miles, Live it, Love it then take a cold bath in ice and get back on the horse!

Way back when, 2 years ago or so, some random weekend when I was probably residual drunk from the night before and KM was staying over for the weekend at my old apartment on the Embarcadero (living with Caro and Rusty the evil flesh tearing purse puppy…may he rest in peace. Actually I don’t know if he died yet but there are a few people with enough physical and emotional scars to hope he is. But that’s for another day) Kate was all do you want to do the Nike Women’s half marathon with me… she said “it’s supposed to be good and at the end they give you a TIFFANY NECKLACE.” – sold - . And I was like sure without even stopping to remind myself that while I had run a mile here and a mile there on the treadmill, road running 13 miles is really another ball game. So she entered us into the raffle which I pretended to be excited about meanwhile the whole time I was praying to sweet baby Jesus that we wouldn’t make it and then of course we made it. So we started training long distance together. We had a motivational excel spreadsheet with the miles we ran through the week and a pump song to go with it and every Friday Kate would drive down from Sacramento for the weekend and we would do a run together on the Embarcadero. One time we went for a really long run in Golden Gate Park (9 miles maybe?) and then within 45 minutes of finishing went to go drinking on a sailboat on the bay for the day. I would council against this – long runs make you a lightweight and also a little bit nauseous – Anyway those runs on the Embarcadero are some of my favorite memories. The happy hour crowds we would pass longingly at the ferry building and Americano, the water on our right the city scape on our left. When we moved into Casa Hot Mess in Nob Hill we trained at the Lyron street steps which is probably the most stunning place to inflict physical pain upon yourself. I miss them and the opportunity we had to catch up on our week while walking that mofo of a hill on Pacific. But enough of the nostalgia. Kate has apparently recovered from it and is doing it again with CS, LM and LG and I am pretty sure they've stepped up the training for this one.

I can't be there to cheer them on even though they try every time I see them to sell it as a great way to celebrate my Birthday. The truth is I have been on the road for over two weeks now and I have laundry to do for days, plus I miss Tahoe a little bit. Can you imagine! Anyway doesn't mean I won't be cheering you on from up North ladies! In fact I might even do a short run in solidarity since I intend to take it up again. Just stay on the look out for the news story "Girl passes out from running 3.1 miles at altitude along the Truckee river in Tahoe city... is rescued by gorgeous fireman who happened to be mountain biking by after just receiving news of substantial inheritance from very wealthy previously unknown deceased Great Uncle. The soon to be married couple fell instantly in love after she awoke to him sitting at her bedside in the hospital. When asked where the couple will live he said "We will be sharing our time between the half dozen estates that my Great Uncle kept all over the world until we decide on a more permanent home, but I will continue to work on a volunteer basis where-ever they need me."

So good luck ladies, have fun! Drink the water when they have it and if they offer you chocolate at mile 12, it seems like a good idea but trust me...it's not.

*Image from Lululemon

Roadtrip: Adventures from the road, Journey to Mexico and Back

So the title of this blog was only to lure you in. There haven't been adventures per-say so much as my car hasn't broken down in the middle of nowhere, I haven't gotten lost, not even so much as a road rage incident to report. The 8 hour drive from Tahoe to Pasadena did get good after I bought a liter size "Starbucks something or other lite" somewhere on highway 5 sometime between hours 3 and 4 and despite it tasting worse than anything ever - like a frappucino laced with red-bull (my worst nightmare in a can) - I polished the thing off and less than 30 minutes later I was driving high on caffeine and what may have contained large or small traces of amphetamines singing along to Usher's "OMG" it's as good as on repeat on the radio so that's nice. I could have driven to Mexico if I had had another one. I love getting the caffeine shakes, so many good ideas come and go quicker than you can write them down to remember what they were and also it makes Highway 5 and all it's not beautiful scenery seem downright fascinating. Then hour 7 struck and I came down from my high. Twice I got tricked into listening to Christian music stations, in my defense some of their songs are really cleverly disguised as good rock and once I woke up from my sugar and caffeine induced hangover daze only to find I was mumbling along to words of a song that was in spanish. True I usually mumble along to songs in English that I know the words to but spanish radios getting really catchy!

It's been a whirlwind of cousins and long overdue visits to friends. "If it's Tuesday this must be San Clemente" (that is a clever reference to an amazing movie made in the 60's. I'll buy you a Starbucks frappe-amphetamine if you figure it out)

I'm off to bed only to wake up sore tomorrow from the kick ass yoga class I did this morning at The Yoga Loft in Manhattan Beach....we started with abs so you can only imagine how much the perfect non-hot mess of a teacher tortured us. Namaste people. Namaste.

*Image = Hint to above riddle

Okay so I really love grocery shopping. Does this make me a freak?

I mean I really really love it. Whole foods makes my heart beat faster and Trader Joes makes me smile. The Golden Nugget in Davis, well it makes me want to relocate there so it can be my neighborhood store. I mean this is not normal. I suffered terribly in 2008, living without a car on the Embarcadero when it was a regular thing for me to enter the gorgeous Safeway on King St. only to exit with way too much stuff to carry on the mile walk home. Tragedies of a first world girl I had to start taking only a hand basket in with me to ensure I wouldn't end up cabbing it 3.5 blocks. Sometimes I tricked my Dad into giving me a lift home after work but incidentally he never wanted to allow me the 2 hours I would, if I could have, chosen to spend going up and down each aisle. Squinting at the per measure costs, comparing prices and picking the perfectly ripe avocado. Enjoying the beautiful produce displays, talking up a storm with the butcher and after every aisles been visited doing a quick second round through just to fill in any late in the game grocery decisions. I told you...I seriously love it. Which is why I drove to the Safeway in Truckee when I was already in Tahoe City just to do the grocery shopping for this weekends 4th of July hostessing extravaganza I am doing. It's a shiny new Safeway and I've been looking forward to it all week long. Please don't judge. Thanks.

Anyway I'm off as my heart goes pitter patter - this maybe now for several reasons A. the impending grocery shopping trip B. The gorgeous firefighter that just walked into the internet cafe...in uniform C. The large coffee I drank - either way it's safe to say I am way overstimulated right now-

Signature Hot Mess…The Sunglass Tan and Other Adventures from this weekend

It’s going to take a little bronzer to even out my raccoon face and sunburnt nose but I’ve definitely had it worse. It’s been a busy week up here in Tahoe. When in doubt my line is “it’s the altitude people.” For example, I use this when breathing heavily after walking not that far on flat ground, during a hike, in defense of my after yoga nap, and more than a few times during what was one epic Saturday where LK and I rented bikes and made the roundtrip from Squaw Valley into Tahoe city for Bloody Mary’s and a lakeside lunch in the sun which turned into a mini pub crawl. We stopped at Fat Cat’s and Front Street Pizza on the Truckee river. Here’s a story maybe not funny I don’t know. Later that night while out on the Tahoe City Town! Playing a wild game of shuffle board a girl comes up to me and LK and is all “hey it’s Mojito and Dog Chase!” let me explain she was the bartender at one of our stops on the way home and those were the drinks she served us. I love being remembered as “Dog Chase.” Could I not have just ordered a Bloody Mary or like a Dirty Martini because I think I would rather be called either of those. Or Sex on the Beach or Shandy (Drink of the summer!!) So you get the point. Anyway LK and I pulled the Mana Loa hustle except instead of hoop shooting at Mana Loa we managed to win tequila shots at the shuffle board table in Pete N Peter’s. Truly a one off accident and made really good friends with a cab driver who took us into Tahoe City and home again at 4:30 in the morning. The short story we stopped by the Chevron to pick up snacks and we cruised around Tahoe City looking for the next scene. Special night whoa.

Also, if you haven’t yet, check out my new blog “Mya Clicks.” As soon as I get through my Australian back log I’ll get some photos of Tahoe up. A shout out to Mike, graphic designer and photographer extraordinaire, who helped me with the web design. I shouldn’t really do this because it makes me look all amateur and shit but take a look at his site, MPKelley.com it’s worth a gander. Also the snowboarding shots are actually him snowboarding and taking the photo at the same time. A little bit of amazing right there!

Peace people (that’s Tahoe talking) see you soon for the first in a series of “homework assignments” in which I make use of my unemployed time up here.

*Sign above is posted in Squaw Village. Is it just me?

Syd's is the new Nook: In which I eat an Everything Bagel w/ cream cheese 3 days in a row...as a second breakfast

It's just even when I go in determined not to do it someone else orders one and the delicious smell of toasted sesame and garlic wafts through the place and I am a goner. So I have been spending a little time here. I don't think they have noticed me lurking yet but I am not sure how much longer I can go unnoticed. The place is comfy, they play jazzy elevator music and through the back door I have a view of the parking lot and then the lake. Not too shabby. And it is still cold enough up here to justify this indoor, internet fiend behavior. Speaking of cold last night I went out with a new friend to take lake photos. The best part is my sad little Canon totally got to try on a new outfit. Check out the size of that lens. It's so big I am tilting forward while holding it. Also my hands are numb and toes too but it was worth it to get to play with all the awesome photography gear that I might be able to afford sometime in the next 16 years depending on how well I marry and how little I shop for clothing. I think I am finally ready to take the next step and start using a tripod. I realize this means some of you might not want to be seen with me in public but oh the things you can take with the a slow shutter speed!! Sorry I'll stop now. Anyway I have to remember not to smile till I can floss...I have seeds in my teeth. The really little tricky kind that you don't know are there until some gives you the awkward look where they can't help but stare and aren't sure whether to tell you that you have food fangs. I am just saying I would always tell you if you had food in your teeth, that's how you know I am a good friend. I'm off to do I don't really know what but I'll be back pretty soon, especially as long as I remain jobless.

This should take you back but if it doesn't please just reflect on the days when bell bottoms were in. Either decade is fine. Just do it.

So among other things that I have seen in the last 48 hours I just saw a "tan tattoo" on the mid-drift of a 16 year old girl. A heart shape. Remember the days of fake and baking with a heart shaped sticker on your hip bone. Well it's been years since I've done that. My little bro and I used to go together. Two middle eastern babies whose catch phrase used to be "we don't burn, we're middle eastern" and proceeded to NEVER wear sunscreen going to the tanning beds. Kurt under the guise of it was for some show or another. Me because we all know it makes your skin look better and also you look skinnier. No intervention needed we both hit rock bottom some years back. Me from a blister inducing sunburn (6 hours spring skiing Squaw with no sunscreen will get anyone) Kurt just gets blotchy these days. Well there I didn't mean to get off track. I also saw 16 year old legs with writing all over them. Signatures of friends. Messages that will go down the shower drain and be forgotten the way we forget a high-school crush or the tormenting days when getting asked to slow dance in Junior high (in the middle of the afternoon in the school cafeteria) was the most important thing in the world. School yearbooks and the moment of asking that soon to be forgotten crush if he would sign yours. Popular girls and the way we resented our parents but relied on them totally. Made their lives hell, snuck out of the house, missed curfew and got drunk on one and a half beers. These girls have it all before them but right now it's a tan tattoo and rereading crushes messages written in the yearbook. And I am going all high-school nostalgia on you which is so much worse than college nostalgia - don't you think so? - Anyway LK and I went stag to our Senior Prom. Why do I remember this particularly, because photos from this event just surfaced (along with the my highschool graduation photos that I had never seen till last week) We drove into the city together, vague remembrance of two Cal guys offering to take us on the way - LK do you remember this? - We danced and then stole our friends dates and took our photo, the two of us with 8 guys pretending to fawn over us. A better prom photo there is not. We joined the festivities back at the hotel with everyone else and in true high-school fashion everyone dropped like flies till it was LK and I drinking bud lights and smoking cigarettes on the hotel fire-escape, reflecting on the possibility that the world is bigger than we knew at the moment. At least I know we were hoping it was.

Anyway here I completely change the subject or I might literally write a book in which I go down memory lane. So twice in the last week I have been asked if I have a photography blog, this not because I was taking photos but because I was commenting on someone taking photos and it got me thinking, maybe my sidebar click could be it's own page. So I have done it. The link is at the top of the page and as soon and I figure out what is wrong with my photo formatting it will have some of my photos for your viewing pleasure or not. Also please note while laughing is encouraged while reading this blog my photos are not meant to induce laughter... usually. You know just in case. I take this stuff really seriously. Thanks. Bye.

I am going to Be punished for Posting these photos

So I spent this weekend down in San Francisco and Sunday, a beautiful sunny Sunday was spent brunching and then after barely resisting the French Toast at Sidewalk Cafe was spent figuring out this bridesmaid dress. It's a convertible dress, one size fits all (which is frightening). See above us reading the endless possibilities that this dress claims to have...until you realize this comes with contingents including but not limited to particularly not moving. It takes two people to assemble but better to have three, safety pins and a lot of patience. We all took turns in it and I have to confess the material is nice against the skin, and if you like to spin on the dance floor this will do it. But I think it's safe to say the gripes outweigh these positives. Lucky the unnamed bridesmaid can pull anything off and has killer shoes (see above) to take the emphasis off potential dress malfunctions. The last two photos of the dress are what she's going to wear. We still have to write directions on how we did this (if we can remember).

Universal Rule #1000 and A little bit of Lovely San Francisco

Why is it when there is so little to do it is harder to get the few things you need to do done?

For Example I have nothing to do all day and can't seem to focus on giving you an actual post so instead photos it will be. You might prefer this to actually having to read my long and mostly pointless rants. So be it just don't tell me this to my face. Thanks.

*Berkeley Flowers growing in unexpected places.

*The Bay Bridge, risked my life to take this photo. You know drive and click...Actually we were dead stopped so mom don't lecture me.

*A cozy cafe/bar in San Francisco's Hayes Valley for Sangria Happy Hour!!

*Pink chairs, I want them for my non-existent patio.

*Brunch at Jovino on Union St., Drink of the summer a "Shandy" Hefeweizen with a splash of lemonade. Yum!

I'm a lookin both ways before I cross

Est-ce c'est possible? Is it. Did I leave? Did I go to Australia for 8 months, pick bananas and gain "life experiences" only to come home and feel like I never left? I think so. There is evidence to the contrary of course. Like sometimes even if I don't say it out loud I am thinking "Ya reckon" I know yuck. Also I made some friends over there (the only concrete evidence of this is on facebook) and also several near death experiences from looking the wrong way when about to cross the street (you know left then right, well I'm all looking right then left) But there are things that make me feel like I never left too. The way I picked right back up with everyone, the easy and instant way I felt at home in San Francisco. Oh and (sorry Mom, Dad) my parents bathroom, that beast of a 20 square foot project (insert sarcasm here) that was one year in the making before I left isn't finished yet. Neither is the gas firepit in the backyard. Weirdly I remember using it during my farewell dinner. I won't dwell on these little confusing facts that make it appear as if I never left...I might get kicked out of my free digs if I do and I just finished unpacking so that would be unfortunate.

I'm not sure how you're supposed to feel after an extended period of time away from home. I thought maybe I would have a little more to show for it than a haircut and a new allergy but anyway I'm onto the next thing. A house in Tahoe City awaits, 5 months for some new adventure. New job, new city, new something to pack for. If all else fails at the end of this one I can probably cut my hair again, I might just have enough grown back to do something new!

In the meantime I have been re-writing my resume to include the 4 years of swim coaching I did from 2000-2004 which has just taken me on a wild trip down memory lane in which I recall even tans, swimsuit confidence I would pay for today and getting to play with kids who loved us coaches. Is there anything better than that?!

More on dream jobs that pay peanuts later. I'll talk to you soon, maybe from Tahoe if this whole snowing into the month of June thing stops. In the meantime my bed awaits.

*The photo above was taken late night walking home through Hyde Park in Sydney. I only got like 8 crazy looks.

The Most Delicious War Ever.

I know, I know you just heard from me. The thing is I was watching the news this morning and only the most amazing of any news story fell upon me. Click on the below link to read all about it!

The Hummus Wars

I've never given you a recipe. I'm not going to turn into a cooking blog. There are others that do it far better than I ever could - read Smitten Kitchen and Pioneer Woman, their links are on the left hand side - but here I will bestow upon you my fathers hummus recipe, greatly modified by me - actually only in the quantities of garlic used. The good thing is most ingredients are simply to your taste.

The Krikorian weakness for garlic is evidenced at every family dinner during my 25 years on earth. You eat Hratch's hummus, delicious and spicy as you inhale it because it is laden with garlic but the whole rest of the night you have to walk around with your hand over your mouth. So beware of the garlic trap, there's a fine line and sometime you need only add an additional half a clove of the blessed stuff.

This will make a generous serving for 10 people as a starter. Or throw it in a tupperware and eat it all week. It's even better the next day.

• 2 16 oz Cans garbanzo beans (same as chickpeas) drained
• 3 to 4 Tablespoons Tahini - which is sesame paste, you can find it at a middle eastern market and actually I have seen it in the grocery stores lately! A small jar will last you a long time. The costco size tub is a lifetime investment -
• 1 Lemon - minimum of half but if you're me or my brother probably the whole thing
• Water for consistency
• 2 1/2 Cloves garlic - or for my Dad's version 4, 5 or 6 Cloves -
• 1 tsp Salt to taste

Throw the beans, tahini and 1/2 a lemon's juice into the cuisinart and blend. Add water until the consistency is as you like. I prefer it a little thicker but don't add more than 1 can of water or you'll have hummus soup (which doesn't sound too bad to me...but I love all things hummus) Throw in the garlic and salt. Start slow, start small and taste often till you get it how you like it. It's never beyond salvaging unless you put too much salt. Mix on medium, scrape the sides because the garlic will hide there. If you want some added deliciousness, my personnel favorite garnish is pinenuts toasted in Extra Virgin Olive Oil. It takes two seconds - don't burn the pinenuts, it is really easy to do. Or instead you can sprinkle Cayenne pepper or just plain olive oil. But the toasted nuts add another dimension and cleverly disguise it as more than a healthy snack.

This could be you. My Dad has the exact same bowl as them in miniature size.

I propose to be their quality control. I mean anyone can fill an enormous plate of hummus full but what does it matter if the Tahini to Garbanzo bean ratio is off?

What they really need is the world largest Cuisanart because you can whip together a batch delicious hummus, twice as good as store bought for half the cost in ten minutes.

It's easy as but good luck anyway and let me know how you go!

Irish Soda Bread, Coffee Shakes and My Left Shoulder is Sore from Hole Punching

The hole punching speaks to how important my job is. Sometimes I go for it and put over 10 sheets of paper in. Then it takes two hands to push down and if it had a longer fulcrum this really wouldn't be an issue. See physics, I took physics to get my degree. It's being put to use...obviously.

If I tweeted, which I don't because I don't really get it - My "tweet" would go something like this.

"Am leaving Australia in 3 days...Holy Shitcakes"

Today we had a farewell "Tea" for me. Also referred to as "smoko" here down under. The 10am breaktime. Martin had his wife make Irish Soda Bread AND Brown Bread, then tried to take credit for it. We had coffee. I ordered a Skinny Cap - my barista put a tablespoon of chocolate shavings in it. Something is wrong here no? Skinny milk extra chocolate shavings. Whatever, anyway 8 pieces of soda bread with delicious butter, two long blacks, one gazillion hole punches and 900 copies later I am red in the face and I can't figure out if it is the coffee or the manual labor. Either way it's something to be concerned about. I wish I was capable of leaving the poor suckers to deal with the stacks of paperwork I leave lying around my desk to make myself look busy - but sadly I am not - so I have been desperatly trying to finish this, that and the other so it looks like I did something in the 9 weeks I was here. Proving more difficult that it seems. I did get to go to the contract signing of the first project I ever priced start to finish all by myself. It was yesterday at the Architect's office...in the Rocks which is a gorgeous old area of downtown Sydney. The building I priced work on was the tallest in Sydney for like 70 years, at 12 stories tall which is how it should have stayed I think. Most of the work is being done off of ropes - here's a new one for you "Abseiling" which is basically repelling - I almost stuck around just so I could go off ropes with them but what can I say Casa Gourmet's burrito pull is stronger than even I would have thought.

This weekend will be spent in farewell celebrations, which will be more fun than tearful. But you know me, crying is not really my thing (except that time my mom left Sydney and she cried and I didn't...until she walked through the portal and I was walking back to my car and then suddenly the tears poured out of me, I don't know why it was an unusual occurence reserved mainly for Corina Corina, Pretty in Pink and okay yesterday I was snorting snot back into my nose at the show "Calendar Girls" but some of that had to do with the cold weather...)

Milan is cooking dinner for 15 out of the hostel kitchen. Miracle. He is rolling spring rolls over a movie as we speak. Not to change the subject but I just found out the what I thought was the cute apartment building across MY alley way from the hostel is actually a brothel. Yes brothels are legal in Sydney. So there's this...that and the other. This news, bestowed upon me 2 days ago has disrupted my world a little. As in all that time I spent painting my toes out there really could have been way more entertaining...you know what with people profiling and judging. I'll be giving myself a pedicure tomorrow even though it's effing freezing outside. So Happy Friday anyway.

*Last day at the office pictured above. I was busy...you can see this.

Dear Tatted Coffee Barista,

Thanks for being my friend. It doesn't even bother me that three weeks and you didn't know me then the day after I came in with short, (very very short) uneven (asymmetrical said my stylist) hair was when you started acknowledging our daily 1pm coffee date - I guess my hair would look good with your tats, no? I know I haven't made our relationship easy on you, ordering on the fly anything from long black to skinny cap, and sometimes but only on cold days when I have a sweet tooth a flat white. I know I make it difficult. You look at me expectantly and try and guess my mood but you're rarely right. It's not your fault.

I don't know how to tell you you put too much milk in your latte and you're cappuccino foam is lackluster. You don't make leafs or hearts and sometimes you're grumpy and I can tell by the way you say "what will it be today?" brusquely to me. Also you have bleached tips in your hair...why? But it's OK because you remember me when I come in and dare I say you will miss me when I am gone? I dare...I dare. I'll miss you too but I have to tell you, it's been 8 months and 7 days since I have had a brewed coffee and I can't freaking wait. OK I know I said I am going to miss the "prettiness" of coffee here, and of course the cafe culture but I am not as shallow as I seem.

So my barista who knows nothing about the art of coffee. I'll miss you, and I am not quite sure how to tell you I'm leaving you. I'm not losing sleep over it yet but it feels insensitive to leave you in the lurch. After all who else is going to hang out with you for the 2.5 minutes it takes you to make my warm milk with a splash of espresso and take my $3AUD at 1 in afternoon?

XOXO,

One O'clock w/ the Uneven Hair

This is neither here nor there but turns out I have been single for 5 years and 5 months and apparently it shows so brace yourself for some religion

5 years and 5 months not counting a couple flings. See what I am doing here, making you feel some sympathy for me while still maintaining I am not completly and utterly pathetic. Which may or may not be the case. But here is the case. I bring it to you.

On Monday night while minding my own business walking through Hyde Park after a glorious walk/run - which was primarily a walk with brief spurts of stair climbing...very brief - This old woman asked me to walk her through the park because she didn't feel "safe" as a thinly veiled attempt to have 5 minutes to discuss how much she loves Jesus with me. I told her to suck it and risk the well lit, clean and patroled park, cause she ain't seen anything till she's been to San Francsico.

Just kidding, actually I walked her through and she told me how good her evening mass was and how if I prayed to god he would send me a man. Apparently he listens to heathens like me too. All this unsolicited, I didn't even tell her I was single. She just new damnit. Then, as if reading my skeptical mind she said, okay this is exactly what you say.


"Dear saint Joseph and good Saint Anne send me a man as quick as you can"

I tell you, ask you, beseech you not to dwell on why this prayer/poem - which is incidentally quite catchy - actually crossed her lips in relation to me as a honest suggestion of how to get myself a man but what I want to know is will it work? I'll let you know, feel free to try it yourself and report back. How long shall we give it? He really only has one week to deliver anyway if I am to be convinced to stay in Sydney. Which is how I think this all came about?

So in other news I made a carrot cake last night, cousin S doesn't have a cupcake pan which is not that surprising to say the least. As a soon to be mother she will most definitly need one won't she? I would get one for her, and a pair of baby uggs as a parting gift for hospitality but I'm pretty sure she'd never speak to me again. But baby uggs are so cute. Almost makes having a child worthwhile...almost. The carrot cake would have been fine in cupcake form but was medium rare in the middle which is distressing to find out after you have served 8 pieces to your coworkers. The frosting was a big hit though. Might as well have not grated up all 6 of those carrots and just brought in a bowl with frosting and 8 spoons. We went for drinks to celebrate or mourn a coworkers departure which was all fine and good until I got back to the hostel and found myself watching the sunrise in time only to grab a quick shower and hop on a bus which definitly took longer than walking but I think it hurt a lot less than the alternative. My only consolation is I am not the only one who looked a wreck when I rolled in an hour late to work this morning. Woof.

And in one hours time I should say it will be the perfect time to try a little hair of the dog action. Lunchtime that is. I hate that expression "hair of the dog" but what else is there?

I'm Not Quite Over It Yet

The throws of nostalgia are coming on. Couldn't you tell though? Well anyway I'll spare you except for several photos, a few of my favorite places. In other news I think I am cracking. Just the other evening while running the stairs at The Domain (outside the botanical gardens with a view across the harbor of the above) I saw a cute boy, if not cute he at least resembled an ex-boyfriend so closely it would have been sacrilegious not to think he was at least noteworthy. So as I was stretching I noticed the water has risen in the harbor these last couple weeks. Which now I have figured must be related to the full moon (I am clever, no?) but I thought I would say just to start the convo "the water level is really high, a really big cruise ship must have just come into Port." and then I would slap my knee and he would laugh and conversation would ensue. Well ok don't worry I didn't do that but it's just goes to show you, I'm losing it.

Today I am going to run to Centennial Park. I haven't been yet and time is really running out. I'll be wearing a hoodie becuase it's chilly outside, the leaves are falling from the trees and it's something like an amalagmation of East Coast and West Coast Fall. I can't quite place it. Tonight I am cooking dinner for a few friends. A southwestern chicken salad, corn, black beans, cilantro and avocado with a BBQ Vinaigrette dressing. Tomorrow I'm waking up for free yoga at Lulu Lemon downtown. If my routine sounds like it has taken an uncanny resemblance to that of my life in San Francisco you can be sure it has.

I'll leave with this, I wish I had made it up and not actually thought it but I almost told the guy sitting in the window of a cafe reading from his kindle yesterday that we were meant to be together, obviously we both read...from Kindles AND like coffee. Match made in heaven. So there now I have thoroughly embarrassed myself by telling you actual thoughts. But he was cute and I bet the four of us me, him and our kindles would have gotten along great!

*Hyde Park on a sunny Sunday afternoon

*Airlie Beach Sailing on the Whitsunday Islands at Twilight

*What's left of the Twelve Apostle's, The Great Ocean Road, Victoria

*Yarra Valley, From Giant Steps Winery, after a day of wine tasting

*My favorite seat in the Botanical Gardens before they replanted the lilies seen above

Cheesecake, Cheesegrater and a few well places strawberries

You know when you read a book and you are loving it? The writing, the story, the message. Whatever and then in the last 14 pages it all goes to shit. Whoa what just happened there? Didn't see that coming! Why couldn't they have just left it at not crazy and bizarre. Like a last ditch effort to make the book shocking and different. So that happened to me yesterday when I finished the book I was reading. I was going to recommend it but maybe not. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know it's like Shantaram the first 3/4 is so worth reading even though you can't finish it without a dedicated effort towards ignoring how south it went. Also in the pipeline is Frankenstein on the ole' kindle. Another freebie, I haven't gotten very far but they are in the arctic on a boat which is pretty unexpected.

AND last night I sat at the bar looking into the hostel kitchen. Five of us at the bar and Milan, our Philippino cooking Asian cuisine. Miso Soup, ginger chicken, sesame rice balls with bean curd (my favorite), sushi and then teryaki beef. Delicious. I made cheesecake. Grated graham crackers on a cheese grater because we don't have a food processor, all this while a horror film was captivating an unusually full lounge area. Silence. Scream. Chain Saw. Grate grate grate of the graham crackers. Scream. Dirty looks? Volume up. Grate grate grate. Chainsaw. Scream.

It went something like that.

Then I overcooked it because I was reading the last 14 pages of the letdown book. Lucky I had strawberries to hide the burn and crack of the filling. No one cared. They oohed and awed, said it was wonderful. But the Sarah Lee that I saw while looking for the butter, and thought of passing off as my own would certainly have tasted better. But I grated and whisked with love so I guess there's that anyway.

And the volcano kept a not too disappointed German woman here with her son a week longer than planned. I think my own mother would have faired the same if we had been so lucky. Another opportunity to swim in the cold ocean water and eat fish and chips...again.

It's three weeks till I'm in burrito heaven. Off for a flat white with a milk foam flower. I can tell you it will taste better because it's pretty. What can I say I'm shallow when it comes to my coffee.

*Big Hostel Kitchen above, their photo, not mine!!

Two Up and 8 Months of Whatness?

As my time in Australia winds down - with 3 weeks left - I am taking stock of my last 8 months here. 8 months is an a long time, but not that long. For Gus, my Melbournian friend, it was long enough to quit his job, travel throughout North and South America move to Sydney and get a new job (as he pointed out to me I was still here when he got back from doing all of that) for my cousin Seta it was enough to go from flat abs to medium baby bump - i'll miss the due date by 1 month - For some it isn't enough time to find a job, and we know it hasn't been enough time for the US economy to bounce back from the abismal state that it is in. While better - not fixed. But who wants to talk about the crappy economy anyway. Not me but then again it was fairly easy to ignore being here, in Australia, they have faired remarkebly well. Construction, I can tell you, is booming. Subcontractors are turning down work which says miles for how busy they are. This is a fact that is difficult to ignore as the impending return to the United States job prospects are bleaker. How much so is still to be determined. Anyway I didn't start writing this to talk about that. The Cairns airport was under construction when I got here and almost finished when I was there two weeks ago. I'm just trying to figure out what my 8 months out here has meant to me beyond a bleap on the screen of my life. What have I done? I can tell you I have scuba dived and drove tractors on a banana farm, learned to drive a manual car - something I have long wanted to do, I have visions of myself as Angelina in Gone in Sixty Seconds...sexy - I have ridden the greyhound far more than I ever care to again and reconciled the privacy and sleeping issues that come with living in a hostel. Met 90 percent Europeans, 10 percent Australians, discovered that Canadians really have a problem being mistaken for American and gotten to know some amazing family. I have worked in construction, different words, same bullshit. And above all else I have learned to be alone with myself. To be clear this doesn't mean I have found myself. I don't think I was looking. What I was looking for was a point in the right direction. An offer I couldn't turn down, a person/man (there I finally said it out loud), a dream job, a new hobby to pursue above anything else. Any or all would have done but no such luck. Instead I am left to wonder if that's too much to hope for. It happens in movies, it happens to people I have met but I suppose they aren't sitting around waiting for it to happen. So I've done a lot. Learned a lot. Slept a lot. Drank a lot. There's no denying Australians are drinkers. Tomorrow I will enjoy my second Australian national holiday, the first being Australia day, this being Anzac day. A memorial for those who fought and died in the battle of Galipoli. They take it seriously here. Which in Australian means there are Anzac cookies to be eaten, a large memorial gathering early in the morning that gives way to a day in the pubs where Two Up (basically a game of heads or tales) is played and bet on because it is the one day of the year when it is legal to play this otherwise forbidden game. Random. Then they have Monday off to recover.

So in 8 months I have experienced Australia, not the outback but farm country and city alike. I have done what's important to me and while there is a lot more I could have done I leave knowing Sydney, a city to love, better than many that have lived here for years. If I tell you what I am going to miss the most is the beautiful way coffee is served here. A cappuccino with a little chocolate and a foam leaf. A flat white with a heart in the foam or a long black served just right with the crema on top. Will you think me crazy? Certainly the loss will not be as painful as the absence of Mexican food has been. But there's that anyway. Pretty coffee and some invaluable experiences and maybe just knowing now that I need to meet my own country the way I have met Australia. So you'll see it seems those dots after Hot Mess may remain for a while longer. See you next week. Wish me luck tomorrow I am going to place some bets and have a few beers.

*The photo above is rowdy game of two up in Sydney. I don't know if I am ready for that!!

Footloose and Fancy Free

Today I am her. A Richard Avedon girl in Paris. I walked home swinging my bag eating a fuji apple, harder to find in Australia than another American, I was crunching away while I walked past Chanel and glanced longingly in. At what I don’t know but just the shear cleanness of it all. So put together, so black and white. And I wondered about the suit guys who open the door for you or just stand against the wall with their hands behind their backs. Black suit and faces of nothingness and yet purposeful, like they are waiting for something. But what are they waiting for? Is an attack on Chanel imminent? Do they help you to your limo when you purchased so much black and white you can’t carry it all out in one load. Are their suits Chanel? Do they like Chanel? Did they used to work at Prada? Do their wives wear couture. Do they have wives? I just wonder is all where do they live and how did they get to be the Chanel Suit guy. La De Da. I extracted a head nod and miniscule smile from the one at the door. It was probably a pity smile, him all the while thinking “Poor peasant girl eating her apple, someone should really tell her that her hair is uneven.”

In other news... today, while on hold for the inspector who is reviewing our project certification, they had “I like big butts and I cannot lie” playing. I didn’t know whether to be pissed when he finally picked up because the song ended or offended. Certainly not the later but one could imagine offense being taken. I’ll tell you one thing though, being on hold would be way better if it was required by law to play old school rap that was the most requested song at your 7th grade dance. No one would complain when they were trying to change their return flight back to San Fran to fly through Hawaii for a brief beach stopover but were being shunned by the airlines and kept on hold for hours at a time for not being part of the millions of people who can’t get home to their families because some volcano erupted. I’m just saying is all…

I’m going for a run now. My coworker told me you are supposed to eat three hours before going to bed which means I have an hour to run, prepare dinner and shove it down my throat. Hmmm that’s not going to happen. But if I were a little kid that would be the best excuse ever to stay up late. No?

On my new plan to rule the World

I don't actually have one. No no and even if I did I wouldn't really want to rule it but if I were going to fight evil I would pick Burt Reynolds, Carry Grant (why was he never James Bond?), The girl who plays Kate in Lost and Beyonce to be on my team. Burt for his stash and good humor, Carry obviously for his charm, Kate cause she's hot and always tortured and willingly to give up anything for Jack - I mean Sawyer - wait Jack? and Beyonce just because. If I had to have a blonde, which if this were a movie would be a requirement I guess I'd choose Brittany because well besides just being last pick I guess she has some redeemable offensive distraction moves. Anyway I don't know where this is going but who would you put on your team?

Today I counted down the minutes till work was over. There is a guy in my hostel that looks just like my little brother Kurt, hair, nose everything and Kurt is a pretty distinct looking guy which is why it hell of trips me out and I stare at him a lot and then he catches me. Except he has the worst Northern England accent ever and a really hot French girlfriend whose hair I want (not just because it is long but shiny too!) And there is this. Kurt used to be the cute sibling. What am I saying he still is. But you know when we were little he was the cute one. My mom vehemently denies this but I know it is true the way I know Tila Tequila is going to reality TV Hell. Because it just is.

It's my bedtime. You are one day behind dead asleep or as I just read probably in your third "sleep cycle" each being 90 minutes. Hopefully you'll get 4 of these cycle before you wake up tomorrow morning - or yesterday morning? Hmmm you got me there. I'm heading into the hump wish me a small one. Either way it's not Monday anywhere right now which is nice.

Oh and I pick Kate Walsh too.

Vegemite Does a Body Good and It's Delicious Too

I was reading an article in Yoga Magazine. "You Are What You Eat" is the title. Maybe this is true, at least it helps us think how nasty we would look as a big mac or my new favorite from Bourke Street Bakery the Lamb Roll or something else delicious like that. Well anyway on it goes on and on and so boring and then it suggests things to eat. And I tell you if I ate carpaccio of Beet-root like they suggested what would that make me. Ew. No really yuck...

Carpaccio of beet-root, honestly what is the world coming to. I threw the magazine out shortly thereafter but not before reading the article on how good detoxing is for you, written by a 5'-18" 105lb model. Um yeah I know I am just jealous but really. So anyway how about that volcano. Pretty crazy huh? And since I am living in a hostel right now (just upgraded after two nights in a top bunk to the bottom) I get to see first hand how freaked out everyone who has to stay here instead of going home or taking their vacation is. It's pretty crazy you know these things happen to third world countries and we all hear about them but then this, affecting the UK it's a little different isn't it? Or is it just cynical me. Although to be fair I did read that the repercussions are far more widespread than people not getting to take their holiday. Trade is being affected etc etc. I won't bore you go read CNN for that. But the shear idea that this is so out of anyone's control including powerful, wealthy European countries is I think humbling in a way. A reminder that we are at the mercy of this planet we live on. Humbling and awe inspiring we can't control the weather and how crazy is it that a volcano even erupted. Crazy shit.

So I have been eating vegemite. I like it. A lot. Sometimes I even have three pieces of toast with it. Like this morning. I took a vegemite sandwich to work and it was eaten by 9:15am (I was going to say 10am cause then it would have appear like I ate it at break but no it didn't last that long) Sometimes I think about it, like right now I wish I could have a piece for dessert. But I haven't broken down and bought a jar yet. I am not ready for that. For now I am a closet addict yoinking the hostel vegemite from the breakfast cart (I stole the bread for the sandwich too)

So happy Monday, hope it's as random and sunny as mine was!