Tuesday, September 30, 2003
My annoying coworker is on vacation. Boy does she make me mad. She left a list for the temp to figure out. It makes no sense a lot of the time. However, what bugs me most? She’s gone for 2 weeks, left the temp 8 things to do, and the funniest stuff? She asked the temp to get trained by me so that the temp could train her. Now, the “temp” is my very good friend, and she used to work here. She is the reason why I knew about the job. She is heartily missed by all because of her competence. But even she was bewildered by my annoying coworker’s weird requests. There were instructions complete with excuses as to why she didn't do the jobs herself! Like "The bookkeeper was on vacation when I needed the $20 to buy this stuff from this committee's record archives. Get them for me." The bookkeeper? Last went on Vacation the week after I started here. And the stuff needed? Took 3 minutes to get. It's almost like she saved up a bunch of stuff so that she could pretend to be busy, but her temporary replacement is now bored stiff. She said to me “Now I remember why I didn’t want to work here, because Coworker X is insane.” Ah. The truth comes out. I took over her old job, and now I get to deal with her nemesis who is now mine. Well, at least I won’t do this job forever and I’m up for a raise this October.
Also last night? My pal Molly called me. She had rescued a kitten in her neighborhood. Probably from the local cat collector, who she says came and checked the kitten and actually said rather indifferently, “Well, I don’t know if it’s one of mine. I can’t tell.” Okay, as Molly said very bitterly, IF YOU CAN’T TELL WHETHER IT’S ONE OF YOUR CATS, YOU HAVE TOO MANY. So, this kitty? Couldn’t go to Happy Tails no-kill shelter. They are full. The SPCA wouldn’t take it, it’s a stray. The Animal Control? 10 day quarantine, 3 day stay in shelter before euthanasia. And this kitty? Is so sweet and cute. She’s white and deaf. Deaf as a doorknob. She let Seamas kiss her all over her face. We took her to the vet because no matter how cute, I can’t afford to have a very sick kitty in my house when my cats live there already. She is negative for FeLV, but has an upper respiratory infection. We treated her fleas, bathed her, and set her up with toys and a nice cozy bed. She is living in my bathtub right now. She uses the litterbox. If anyone is interested, I’m going to get her updated shots and spayed. She will be available in a couple of weeks. I am hoping PF wants her because she looked so sweet in his arms. Very snuggly girl kitty. We named her Popcorn.
Saturday was my busiest day ever. Until Sunday. When I woke up at 2 AM and went to fish in a tournament with the Pocket Fisherman. He caught a bunch of fish, but they were all too small. I caught one little dinky one (my first fish ever!). At weigh-in, we had two fish. It was a long, good, hard, tiring, day. But I think I don’t want to fish in a tournament again. I felt bad that I couldn’t catch big fish.
My friend Moe just told me the saddest news. Last week her lovely rat Spooky passed away suddenly. Yesterday, her lovely old fattikins rat named Henry, a big white cuddler of a boy, also passed away. Sad. I’m so sorry, Moe. I don’t even know how to comfort you. They were your babies.
Poor Moes. Send them sweet thoughts.
~Amelie, busy and full of love for the little fellas.
Friday, September 26, 2003
Things to annoy me on a Friday:
I had a suit downsized to fit me. It took over 2 weeks. It cost me a lot of money. Yesterday, it was still too big. The woman asked me if I had lost weight. Um, no. You Just Didn’t Get It Right. I MADE them redo the sleeves and take it in more. They argued with me. As I left, I thought, "Are they going to screw it up just to spite me because I complained about the crappy job?"
Now it’s too tight and the sleeves are too short and the suit does not meet under my arms. And I was so shocked. I just paid and got out of there. How do you know if someone is a reputable tailor? I figured if they worked on clothes owned by people working at the Capitol building, they must be decent. I have learned that if they don’t use pins to note where to cut the clothes, they are not good tailors. They marked my suit with chalk while I was wearing it and it is still too big in some places. The guy had the nerve to suggest that the design was faulty in the suit. He said this as I pointed out that suddenly one sleeve was longer than the other. He determined I did not have the suit on right. I was stunned. I think I needed to call the BBB before just walking to the nearest tailor by my work. PF would say “You shoulda gone to the Chinese tailor, dumbass.”
My coworker thinks she is my boss. I do not have a determined boss, as I am office manager. But because she has been here longer and is insecure, she bosses me around. Literally. Today she informed me she saved us a $150 charge that I had okay’d. This is to our printer people. I had okay’d the charge because the printer required maintenance. Even after we got a new laser cartridge. I do not have time to trouble myself about whether or not the thing fits. If it doesn’t fit, I call it in a rejected. If the printer says “maintain me”, I do not clean it. I call it in.
So, she snippily informed me, in front of our accounts manager who looked a little bewildered, that she saved us $150 bucks on the printer, due to the fact that she informed them we would not pay it. Due to the fact that it didn’t say “printer maintenance” until she shook the printer cartridge, trying to figure out why it wasn’t printing properly in the first place.
It soon became clear to me that we ordered a printer cartridge because she broke the old one shaking it, and we ordered printer maintenance because she shoved the new printer cartridge into it (which we called in as a defective delivery. Ha. Now I feel like an asshole). And then she misrepresented us to a reputable company and said it was their fault it was broken and wouldn’t pay for it.
Nice. So, instead of telling her off in front of people, I told her “good job.” I feel like reporting her, but there’s no one to report her to. Because weirdly, I’m the office manager. Other than that kind of crap, which happens every day, I like working here.
I am going to start collecting some funny conversations I have had with my coworkers and our repair people.
For my bosses computer (outlook wouldn’t download the 137 messages lined up in webmail):
Repair Guy (after logging in to my bosses email): It worked fine on my end, I was able to download all of the messages. Looks like there’s a couple with over 20 MB attachments. That might slow it down, but not that much.
Me: It’s really slow. You don’t think I should just repair outlook/Office?
Repair Guy: No, that might mess things up more. Can you tell when the last message was downloaded?
Me: 12:37 AM
Repair Guy: Okay, what’s the subject header?
Repair Guy: Huh? Did you say something?
Me: “Timmy Fingered Me Till I Bled.”
Repair Guy: OH! (coughs)
Repair Guy: AhemmmHmm. SpamAssassin must not be working properly?
Me: Apparently not.
We finish fixing the problem. SpamAssassin is actually working fine. I just work for a porn aficionado. I think.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
So, I doublebooked my October 3 weekend.
The good thing is that I realized it before it happened. The bad thing is that I will miss out on something fun (Poinsettia Mine). However, I get to spend time with my Moes. They make everything right in my world.
PF will be rolling his eyes at me, of course. He and I argued over who was going when and how and finally, he decided not to go to poinsettia because he is fishing a tournament that weekend anyway and that made life easier. See, I had given him a LOT of guilt because he was going to go without me. Meanwhile, at some point in Late August, I said "Yes Moes Come That Weekend!" And forgot about it. I was just happy in the knowledge they were coming. I had all these visions about going to Apple Hill with them.
And then, I somehow got a ride to Poinsettia and JUMPED at the chance. I promised all manner of things to my 4X4 friend, namely, coffee. Needless to say, PF was fairly agitated with me.
Luckily, someone else needs a ride, so I don't feel tooo too bad. But I feel really stupid!
How does this happen to me? I am not THAT busy, am I? I mean, I stayed at home last night watching Law and Order. Busy people do not lay around watching TV and feeding their dog Min-T-Bones.
Two people now have told me to get a dayplanner or a palm pilot.
I'm going to be one of those horrid people who say "hmmm...Saturday? no, that's not going to work for me...I'm booked." Instead of an effervescent, "YES! I'll totally be there, oh pal o'mine."
Also scary: My friend Regina brought her middle son, the one with spina bifida, to Sacramento for his routine neurology appointment. They found a blockage in his shunt (it drains fluid from his brain into his abdominal cavity). So, he went for surgery today.
I took him two stuffed puppy dogs. One has a splint, the other looks like seamas.
Lost in Translation was quite a good film. Bill Murray plays the beat down guy a la Rushmore again. He was great. And I really liked the main characters. Highly Recommend it.
Also saw Once Upon A Time In Mexico. Which was good. Not great, but good. Johnny Depp stole the show once again. I love him, I think.
And got together with an old friend recently. Her family is here in Sacramento and she's in grad school up in Portland. She brought her little boy and her husband over for some BBQ last night. I made chicken. BBQ'd chicken is just about my favorite smell of summer. That and linden blossoms. It was so good, I ate another piece right before we left to see Lost In Translation. Which was a dumb move. Because my stomach was going CRAZY during the film. Literally, my intestines were just clammering away in there, I swear one side of my body was asking questions and the other side was answering. The left side was a low rumbly gurgle, the right a bunch of whale song. The argumentative sides became really embarrassing during some rather quiet scenes, and then a plastic bag I stuffed in the cup holder decided to expand in it's prison, sounding exactly like a giant held back crisp fart. Right after my stomach had been talking to itself.
Yeah. Welcome to my life.
It only got worse. See, I went out into the lobby to wait for PF to finish watching the credits. I ran into some people I knew slightly through a friend and tried to engage in conversation. It got very awkward. It was so awkward, PF kept criticizing me afterwards. It was awkward, but I couldn't figure out how to extricate myself politely. How do you do that? Plus, I was still sort of involved in the movie.
I should have just said "did you like the film? Me too. Take care!" But I couldn't. I was still sort of emotionally "with" the film. Is this common? This inability to concentrate on the now once you leave a film? I notice it happens a lot to me. Especially after thoughtful films. I think I don't like to talk to people after a movie in the theater. I need some time to digest the film before jumping into a conversation about it. Or even before meeting up with people after a film. I need silence, usually.
I came to work and found out my friendly coworker's dog had been put to sleep the night before. She was a lovely old 17 year old dog, and had a great life. I loved the "obituary" she put out about her dog, so I'm adding it to my post today. Yes, going away to college is a euphemism.
Sweet old Sally Anne went to college Sunday evening. We don't exactly know which college she is attending, but we hope she will be on the same campus with Ripley so they can resume their lifefime of romping hijinks. We also hope this college has refrigerators that are easy to open and stocked with her favorites: broccoli, tortillas and carrots. We don't think it is asking too much that in return for being such a gentle soul for 17 years that Sally also gets a college well supplied with anchovies tins and chocolate sauce, as well as trees to climb, walls to jump and beaches to run.
Sally might not make the Dean's List, but they will know she is there. Boola, boola, Sally Dog!
~Amelie, who never wants Seamas to go to college ever.
Friday, September 19, 2003
Update on Mucoid Plaque: Having nightmares now, a la kid from poltergeist getting attacked by his own braces. Am attempting to half assedly (no pun intended) rid myself of this pesky stuff. Am launching a counterattack with the clay and psyllium and fresh vegetable juice, but I keep getting sidetracked by pancakes and chicken sandwiches.
Found a fabulous (and I do mean fabulous) chiropractor. Was seriously bummed when telling my RN mom and MD dad about my experience. They treat chiropractic medicine like witch doctoring. However, I have gone, and I know it can help manage pain caused by stress. Which is the only pain I know about. I can't speak for pregnant women, elderly people, or extremely crippled backs. All I know is, my pain in my neck went from a 7/10 to a zero. A ZERO. I have had back pain for YEARS. Due to many crazy accidental injuries. And mainly, unless it gets bad enough to beg for darvocet and flexeril, I ignore it.
He doesn't crack you. He adjusted me with a small machine connected to a computer for precise read-outs. Thank you Heather for the recommendation! (She's my fabulous massage therapist, who is also working on my bank kinks and complaints).
What else happened this week?
Oh. We hosted an awards ceremony for Alfred Alquist and Charles Warren. These former senators made many environmental protections, especially around fuel burning and energy production, possible. Withethe Warren-Alquist Act of 1974. Mr. Alquist is now 95. I think he wept a bit. It was lovely. But, I was severely tempted by chocolate petit fours (evilly placed over by the raw sliced fruits). Therefore, I think I threw my Mucoid Plaque extraction back by about 3 more months. Ugh.
Also, there's a possibility that California may not be able to vote for recall after all. Well. Unless we get up to date voting cards in about 11 counties by October 7. I still think I am surrounded by dumbasses. Though today I think Gray Davis really pissed me off. He is cutting Medi-Cal payments to doctors by 15%. Okay, docs who actually still take Medi-Cal patients? Already get a drastically cut rate as compared to REGULAR private insurance agreed-upon rates on procedures.
Want to see a health care system in disarray? Health insurance already takes cues from Medi-Cal rates. Therefore, all docs will see a fee-for-service decrease.
I predict, that if this goes through, lots of doctors will leave California. Mark my words.
Gray, you probably just lost a big constituency. Why do you shoot yourself in the foot? There must be something you can cut besides medical care payments to doctors who still treat poor people.
~amelie, whose dog is curled into a nicely groomed donut on the bed.
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
It's lovely. It's happy. It's good.
It's kicks ass on politics. It's soo much nicer than misery.
Monday, September 15, 2003
So, I bought some bentonite clay just to try it out, and mixed it with a hand mixer. PF called me mud girl this morning. It's not bad with carrot/parsley juice and psyllium to spice it up. But don't just drink it with psyllium. I about died last night trying to choke it down "plain". And yes, I think it's completely weird. But if you don't try new things, what will you have? Mucoid Plaque, apparently.
Also, if bentonite clay causes cancer? Feel free to send me the links so I can talk myself out of ever drinking it again.
And the slideshow is not "Poo" per se, moe, though I still do not recommen you look. It's supposed to be of intestinal plaque, lining the walls of your entire intestinal tract, and full of parasites. Which just creeps me the hell out. So I will stop talking about it. Space monk, want to weigh in? Have you ever done this kind of thing? Know people who do?
I have a sneaking suspicion that the "plaque" is just congealed bentonite clay, and you pass it because you are fasting and have nothing left to pass. Then again, it may all be true. According to PETA: "Meat. It's what's rotting in your colon."
All righty. On To Slightly Prettier Things:
Went to a party at Jane's house Saturday. It was hilarious. I heard someone say it was like a "Party In The Movies." She had a pontiac firebird pulled up next to a bounce house. The bounce house was shaped like a monster truck. The Firebird was there for if anyone wanted to re-enact old Whitesnake videos. Suffice it to say that I had one drink, called a Bible Belt, went into the bouncehouse, first I was alone and then there were two, and once there were 4, I panicked and fell down. Then the house became evil. It tried to eat me. It took 3 people on the inside to pull me out of the net, and about 10 on my side of the wall to push the wall up and keep the house from falling over onto my head and neck and killing me. My arm was caught in the rubber wall and I think I may have squealed. Loudly. There were over 100 people there, so if I say LOUDLY, and people helped me, that means they heard me over the 100 persons chattering. So maybe I screamed.
Suffice it to say, it's just par for the course in my Repertoire Of Bizarre Accidents, and two beers later I was fine. However, I avoided the bounce house from there on out.
Sunday was much calmer, I finished my book for book club. The Bee Season. I liked it. I love those gals. They went to play nighttime hide-n-seek. I went home. And treated PF to American Splendor, which is a damn good movie and I highly recommend.
And now I'm at work again.
And the Recall? Has been delayed by the federal court system!
Saturday, September 13, 2003
Okay, this is a slide show of Mucoid Plaque. Which is my newest obsession, unfortunately. Moe, don't look. Possibly, Moe, Don't Read.
See, I just finished a 2-day fast for an exercise program. I feel fine. I am eating salad and had granola and fruit for breakfast today. My stomach definitely holds slightly less than before. Anyway.
I mentioned it to a coworker, and they told me they do this fast/cleanse thing for 6 weeks every year. Okay, 3 coworkers do it. They do it together for support. It starts with a gradual change from 3 meals a day to 1, the last week is juice only. The weeks you are eating, you eat raw vegetables and fruits (less fruit than vegetables), juices, water with lemon, probiotic supplements, and psyllium/bentonite "shakes". That doesn't sound TOO too bad.
And the stuff in the slideshow? Eventually makes its way OUT of your system.
Now, I am a strong advocate for psyllium fiber. Icky Ex had a poo problem that required me tricking him into taking "libido" tablets so that we weren't calling the plumber every week to fix our flooded house. Yes. Yes. He flooded our HOUSE with his nasty poo water. So I fed him psyllium. It worked. Until he caught me. Anyway. He's someone else's problem now. Probably his mom's.
I think I am going to do a cleanse like the above. I thought about it, and if you lose 12 lbs of corded up mucoid plaque like the photos show, then that's less exercise for me. However, I have read that it requires enemas. These scare me. A lot. I mean, A LOT. I would rather eat clay. oh.
~Amelie, who probably won't do it because it's a bit freaky and the PF will laugh. And if she does, she won't take photos.
~Amelie, who needed to be cheered up today anyway.
It's true then. It's on yahoo. Johnny Cash has passed away. That is really sad. I didn't think he'd last much longer due to losing his wife a couple of months ago, but that is really tragic. I keep hearing the low notes in Folsom Prison Blues in my head. I'm so sad. man.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
This made me so happy. I love that Sacramento is trying to gear up for flash mobbing just as it's becoming passe. I love that about Sacramento. How can you not cherish that? It's hilarious and great.
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
My new obsession. The Modular Home.
No, it's not a trailer. It's pre-fabricated. They can look like this, or far more traditional. They can be big, or they can be little. They can be single storied or multi storied. They can be ugly or they can be charming. I prefer cottage charm or ultra modernity. I'm not liking the ones that look like they want to belong to a subdivision that modeled itself after a trailer park.
You can build them on just about any foundation, but slab is best. They can be hooked up to sewers or septic systems. They can be fitted for solar power and passive solar thermal water heaters, or propane, or grid, or whatever. I find neat things to obsess about, non? C'mon PF. Buy Land.
~Amelie, who knows about Sweat Equity too.
Monday, September 08, 2003
Have you seen this yet? It's the Hummer Vs. Hybrid ad by votearianna.com. I don't want her as governor, but this is pretty funny.
Sunday, September 07, 2003
I nearly passed out from cramps today at a winery. A winery, mind you, where they had no tylenol. I had to have my brother pull off the road so I could go into Captain Spaulding's Sideshow and Store for some motrin. ugh. But you know, what else can you do when you are knuckleclenching the door handle, white as a sheet, and sweating profusely from pain? Men are so lucky. They only hemorrhage from drive-by shootings and nosebleeds. And boy do they whine about a little blood. Lordy.
I also double booked my weekend next weekend. I'm supposed to go camping in Santa Cruz/Big Sur with some of my favorite girl pals (oh yeah, and I picked Big Sur and they all said "okay!"); AND 3 weeks ago I told my friend that I would be at her party and bring a group that enjoys Whitesnake mayhem blasting, and Monster Truck bouncing castles. Ahem. How do you forget that????
Honestly, if people didn't send out reminders? I would forget everything important. I think my left brain doesn't know what my right brain is thinking half the time, and just makes plans saying "Oh sure. I'm fucking flexible as a rubber band." I think my free and easy brain does this when my neurotic right brain is napping and takes advantage of the respite from the worrying.
Woah! Maya's dad is an email forwarder. This is from December 2000, but I never got it. It's good. It's really applicable to the now.
"Bush is my shepherd,
I am in want.
He maketh me to lie down on park benches.
He leadeth me besideth the still factories.
He restoreth my doubt in the Republican party.
He leadeth me in the party of destitution for his
I fear evil for thou art with me.
The politicians and the profiteers they frighten me.
Thou preparest a reduction in my salary before me in
the presence of mine enemies.
Thou anointest my income with State tax increases;
My expenses runneth over.
Surely unemployment and poverty will follow me all
the days of the Republican administration and I will
dwell in a mortgaged house for ever."
Here's the original from an anonymous group email sent to legislators in New Hampshire in 12/2000:
Bush is my Shepherd, I am in want,
He maketh me to lie down on park benches,
He leadeth me by still factories,
He restoreth my doubt in the Republican Party
He guideth me in the path of the Unemployed for his party's sake,
Yea, though I walk through the valley of soup kitchens, I am hungry.
I do fear evil, for thou art against me;
Thy Cabinet and thy Senate, they do discomfort me;
Thou didst prepare a reduction in my wages;
In the presence of my creditors thou anointed my income with taxes,
So my expense overruneth my income.
Surely poverty and hard times will follow me
All the days of the Republican administration.
And I shall dwell in a rented house forever.
I got my entire package of the Slim In 6 program. Only. It's not DVD. It's the VHS version.
My receipt? Says DVD all over it. What the hell is wrong with these people????
I just sent off a really nasty email to them because their "return" policy says I have to pay for postage. Oh no no no. And you bet they will get an earful tomorrow. I expect MY order fed ex'd to me overnight on their dime, and a return envelope will be sent to them to be paid by THEM. But ONLY once I get my order completed. Otherwise, I will report them to the better business bureau and cancel my payments to them.
Why do they tease me so? I was so happy it was here already, I nearly wept with joy. It really works.
~Amelie, who had to return her tapes to her friend who had the baby.
Quoted from a groupsite on alternative energy. It was a discussion on electric vs. hybrid cars. Interesting.
"I have owned a Toyota Prius for 2 years now. It is one of if not the cleanest car on earth. Period. Unless the electric cars are charged from renewables, then they are more polluting than my Prius. My power company in NYS gets 60% of its power from coal, 35% from oil, and 5% from hydroelectric (edit: this is the only "clean" one of the three). So if I could get and actually drive an (electric vehicle) EV here, I would pollute more than my Prius pollutes.
Plus even the best EVs still are not practical for my style of driving (daily mileage of about 80-100 miles). Weekend mileage once per month of 400-500 miles. No EVs will do my weekends and most will not do my daily. I bought the practical car."
You have selected to apply for, replace or renew a driver license, identification card or instruction permit for "Amelie LaBonne" at the following office. This appointment is not for a drive test (behind-the-wheel), or for more than one person or item.
"The first available appointment for this office is on:
Tuesday, September 30, 2003 at 09:35 AM"
Okay, my drivers license? Expired September 2. I CAN'T WAIT TILL THE FREAKING THIRTIETH. Mein Gott. Does this mean I will be in line all day tomorrow?
~Amelie, who hates the DMV even more the Unemployment Office.
Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Birthday celebrations are FINALLY over. Mostly. I have to take my best friend out to dinner tonight because she is 3 days older than me. I hope she brings her newest baby at the very least!
Last night I don't know what came over me. I simply invited a bunch of fun women over and a lot of them showed up. I made french fries, and we babbled. It all started with Maya taking me to greek food for lunch; I got a Wingnut necklace from my friend Liv, a Happy Dental Hygiene Homemade Soap from Katy, a handmade card that made me weepy-eyed from Heather, reptivite minerals for Sparky from Stephanie, my adorable roommate Nicole gave me a book on origami and paper crafting, and I got lots of nice hugs, and Le Guph decided to hand over her precious Hoot Wine to me. Hoot wine is delectable. Hoot wine is made by Hudderites. Hoot wine is all gone. I literally downed it. And pleasantly, I have no overbearing hangovers to remind me. But I did. It is all gone. I am a fucking hoot wino.
We also played Taboo, but I think it's even more fun when everyone is completely drunk. Everyone was politely recognizing that tomorrow is a work day, so no one except me really got toasted. Man, I love all those gals.
So, I made it though year 32. It went by very fast. I have now been dating the PF for 14 months or thereabouts and he isn't boring me yet. I've lived in this house that I can't stand for 14 months as well.
I'm wearing slightly dirty clothes to work. Nothing noticeable. I just didn't want to dry clean the pants.
It's hot as hell here, even though there's no sun. I hate Sacramento Summers more than anything. Nothing is worse. Nothing. I don't care. Nothing is worse.
I want autumn to fall soon. It's my favorite season, I know so many people agree with me on this one, it's just the best. Why? The leaves, the smell, the harvest atmosphere, Halloween, Thanksgiving, rich jewel tones, sweaters, tights, plaid.
It used to be my Most Dreaded Season when I was little. Because school started.
Now, my birthday is one of the last summer things. So, c'mon Autumn. Let's get a move on. Lower the heat on that fire!
I am not posting the video, it freaked me out. Poor guy. Poor, poor guy.
Also, did anyone see the footage of the pizza delivery guy who was apparently kidnapped, strapped into grenades, and made to rob a bank?
I missed the horrible footage as I was in the shower, but PF was horrified, so it must've been really awful.
According to the version I got, the man was kidnapped after delivering pizza to a run-down radio station out in the boonies. He was forced to rob a bank. Naturally, the police were all there. They handcuffed him, and sat him on the cement sidewalk. He was apparently telling them that the obviously bulging thing under his shirt was a bomb, and it was ticking. The guy was explaining the kidnap story. As the cops were standing around thinking "A likely story, bucko", the bombs went off. And the poor guy was plastered on their cars. They had the decency to duck.
I was horrified.
Was this news REAL? If so, can you prosecute cops standing around while someone is telling them there's a bomb attached to them?
San Francisco tourist spots are severely underrated by native californians. No, we didn't hit Coitus Tower, but I did manage to swim out to Alcatraz. It's really great! Of course, I forgot my digital camera and didn't grab a phone charger.
Why? Because. I have a brother who was supposed to get me to the train station. I said "Can you take me?" he said "Yeah. I get off work at 12. What time do you have to be there?" I said "The train leaves at 1:40, so I need to be there at least 20 minutes early to buy my ticket at the office. That was the plan. At 1:08, I have called EVERYONE I KNOW with a car. No one was home. Lordy. I even called my parents thinking they will save me some money on a later train. No less than 10 minutes to, my brother pulls up and whisks me off. Where was he? Who knows. He got me there 3 minutes before the train left. Phew.
And that's when I realized my plan to call people and invite them to breakfast was not going to pan out. This is because my phone had two precious bars left on the battery. Ah well. We slept in, ate in Japantown, bought a sake set and some ume gum, and went to Alcatraz. I love it. I love SF.
When I think of the soul of SF, it has longish hair, a fisherman's knit cable sweater in a forgiving natural wool, and it's drinking beer, black coffee or slurping chowder from a sour dough bowl. PF's SF has a soul wearing an old hawaiian shirt from the 50s and has hipster hair and eats burritos.
San Francisco may have a multiple personality disorder. What's your SF's soul?