iPole...Part Deux

After Coby's pole dancing bachelorette party, I was really excited to take another class a little closer to home. I called Sedusa Studios in Campbell and made a reservation for myself and AG about two weeks ago. Today, we headed down to the South Bay, met BL for a quick lunch and a drink, and then hustled over to the studio to make the 3pm class. We were almost late because, of course, BL offered us a shot of vodka that we couldn't turn down. A little social lubrication certainly couldn't hurt...

This studio was VERY well hidden and difficult to find. Once we walked in the door, we were greeted by the skinniest lady I have seen in a long time. She had us sign release forms and handed us 5" clear stripper heels. Yeah, these:

The Manolo would SO not approve of these. They are so tacky it hurts. AG wanted flashing lights in the soles of hers. Flashing lights could have only improved their look. The funny thing was that AG and I agreed that we were both waaaay too comfortable in these things. Scary. And, BONUS, I didn't roll an ankle or stumble in any way! WOOT!

The class itself was a bit of a disappointment. It really was geared to beginners in every sense of the word, and for coordinated folks like AG and I, it moved a little too slowly. Despite the fact that each of us had our own pole, we only learned one move on that pole, and the "combination" that Skinny Lady taught us was ridiculously short. I would have liked to learn a few more moves and spend less time working on hip circles. But then again, it was just an introductory class. Apparently, participants work all the way up to flipping upside down on the pole in the actual 5 week series (which will set you back $200), but for $25, I guess what we learned in the intro class was OK.

I managed not to injure myself at all during this class, which is a plus. But on the downside, we barely did anything but walk really slowly, touch ourselves in sexy ways, and do lots and lots of hip circles. There wasn't really a whole lot of opportunity for injury.

I think the next place AG and I are going to hit up is S-Factor in San Francisco. I have it on good word that their method is pretty tough and traditional. I'll report back if and when we give it a go.

iPole...kinda

The occasion: BT's little sis's bachelorette party.

The scene: A yoga/pole dancing studio for an introduction to sluttin' it up on the pole. The dim red lights inside the studio in place of overhead fluorescents were a nice touch.

The crew: Eighteen of us in various workout outfits, sans stripper heels or shoes of any kind, feeling a little timid.

The instructor: A 40-ish lady with a ridiculously SLAMMIN' body and insane control of her hips. I envied this woman instantly.

The class: We learned that we all possess something called a "naughty squat". This was news to me (and my knees). We also learned that when approaching the pole, the ONLY acceptable walk was a sexy one. This proved difficult for some, but everyone gave it their best shot. We were taught a short combination, which included a back bend to the floor, a front twirl, and a back hook twirl. While I managed to look OK doing most of the moves, I royally SUCKED at the back hook twirl. I just couldn't get it. Despite several tries and special attention from Ms. 40 Year Old Perfect Ass, I couldn't figure out what to do with my free leg. As BT so eloquently phrased it, "There were moments of 'sexy', and moments of 'awkward'." I think in my case, the awkward moments were really, really awkward.

The carnage: I kinda tweaked my left wrist, both of my forearms were screaming, I sustained minor floor burn on both tops of my feet (which would turn into bruises the next day), bruises on both insides of my knees, and damn near every muscle in my upper back and shoulders was sore the next day.

The verdict: I had a great time. Despite being the biggest girl there, I really enjoyed myself and felt pretty hot at some points. I never realized how much core strength is involved in pole dancing. I have an all new respect for the girls that can hoist themselves high up on the pole, flip upside down, spin around and not land in a heap on the floor the way I'm sure I would if I were to ever try something like that.

I've decided that I must take another class. There's a great studio in the South Bay where an old athlete of mine teaches classes. I signed AG and I up for one of their introductory classes in two weeks. The difference: this studio lends its participants 5" clear stripper heels for the class. All tackiness aside, if I ended up with as many injuries as I did from doing the class barefoot, just imagine the list I'm gonna come home with after trying to dance, let alone walk, in 5" clear stripper heels. Talk about awkward!

I can't wait. =)

Metropark and Jersey Shore

Ok, I'm OBSESSED with MTV's latest trainwreck TV show, Jersey Shore. It is possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. I should hate it. Instead, I cannot turn it off. I find myself watching old episodes over and over because they're just that goddamn entertaining. The plot, its not that interesting. In fact, its a pretty blatant rip-off of The Real World (seven randoms picked to live in a house and have their lives taped...and attempt to work to earn their free digs for the duration of the show) that's been done 20 or so times already. Its the freaking people that make Jersey Shore so damn amazing.

First off, they all have nicknames. Nicknames like "Snooki" (the roommates sometimes call her "Snickers"), "The Situation", and my personal fave, "Jwoww". Yes, that's "Jwoww" with TWO Ws. Brilliant!! Awsome nicknames aside, its the personalities of the cast that keeps me coming back for more. They're like walking cartoon characters. I find Snooki to be absolutely mesmerizing and the rest of the folks to be completely fascinating as well. Their hair, their tans, their penchant for fist pumping at clubs, their clothing...all so totally interesting. I'd post pics for you all to see what I'm talking about, but they look pretty much as normal as anyone in still photos...except WAY more tan.

I couldn't help thinking about the clothing earlier today when I was shopping with B-rice and AG. We wandered into a store called Metropark. Before today, I'd never heard of this store. After taking a brief survey of the clothing offered, I understood why. SO not my style. Over the top, graphic, Jersey Shore-ish T-shirts, pants and jewelry. And I wasn't alone in my feelings...B-rice looked at me and said, "All I can think of when I look at all this stuff is Jwoww." Hilarious and so true! All of the clothing...soooooo, ummm, Jersey. I mean, I've heard of brands like Affliction before, but now all I can see is The Situation and DJ Pauly D sporting that shit after hitting the tanning salon. No me gusta. We did get a good laugh out of it, though. I honestly can't see why anyone would wear stuff like that, but fashion is a personal thing, I guess.

(As an aside, I walked by J.Jill today and spotted a poster imploring shoppers to "Embrace COLOR!" I looked around quickly and all I saw were muted pastels and beige. COLOR?! Hardly.)

But back to Jersey Shore for a sec...if there is only one hot mess of a TV show that you watch this season, this HAS to be it. My god, its brilliant. Reality TV gold. And MTV even has all of the episodes online, so there is no excuse for not checking it out. You'll laugh, you'll pump your fist in the air, your jaw will drop, and you will feel good about yourself and your life choices. Everyone wins!!

My major food bender

Lately, I haven't done much but eat. Not that I'm complaining or anything. The food has been just delicious, but I haven't been to the gym in several days. I'm getting a little squishy. Whatever, though. It's all good.

Here are a few pics from my recent food adventures:

These pics are from Monk's Kettle in San Francisco where we had lunch on Saturday afternoon. The giant pretzel with cheese sauce and mustard was beyond freaking tasty. And oh yeah, the beer was pretty good, too.

These drinks were enjoyed on Sunday afternoon at Beretta, also in San Francisco. My good lord, they were amazing. No, your eyes do not deceive you...those are basil leaves floating on top of the right and left drinks. In the pic, we've got two Lonsdales (L and R), one Il Gitano (in the back) and one Old Rasputin motor oil beer. Aside from the beer, they were the most unique cocktails we've ever had. And the food was super delicious, too. The company was also an A+. Damn right it was a good day.

If I thought the pretzel from the Monk's Kettle was huge, I had no idea what was waiting for me at Suppenküche in San Francisco earlier tonight. DJC's dad's arm is included in this picture for scale. It was seriously insane. After disposing of the onions, because you all know how I feel about onions, I dove into this thing and did my best to take it down. For dinner. Yes, that thing was my dinner. I did the best I could, but I could only get through about half, and that was with help. It was sooooooooooooooo good, though.

Suffice to say, if I don't make it in to the gym soon, I will be in serious trouble. We've got more dining outings planned for the rest of the week still! Wish me luck!!

California is just beautiful...Part one of a three part series

The following photos were taken at various points along the Pacific Coast Highway on possibly the sunniest day of the summer. DJC and I recently took a leisurely drive down to Big Sur, where after a lovely day of sun, adrenaline (courtesy of BL's Ferrari), and good food, he asked me to marry him. Its funny how we live so close to such beautiful sites, and yet as long as DJC has been in California, this was our first trip down the coast. Enjoy the pics!

The following pics are from Andrew Molera Beach, where after a long hike from the trail head through dust and dirt and horse manure, DJC and I sat on a log and talked about our past, present and future life together. He got down on one knee, gave me a ring and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. I couldn't stop crying...in a good way.

This will forever be our beach. But if we ever return, I vow to wear better shoes that won't leave my feet raw, blistered and bloody:

____

OUCH! I didn't know I was in for a ~2 mile hike when I chose my footwear for the day! Ugh!

Regardless of the blisters and pain, this was such a fantastic day. A HUGE thanks goes out to BL for being the most amazing friend ever and letting us borrow his excellent vehicle to make the day that much more special. Hope you all enjoyed the pics. I've got more to come. Happy Wednesday!

The payoff

Two weekends ago, DJC and I went out for a frivolous night of drinking. We started out at Forbidden Island, a kitschy cute Tiki lounge, where the drinks are totally foo-foo and, if you're not careful, will knock you on your tush. Here's a pic:

Drinks on the menu come with strength ratings, or more correctly, a number of bottles with Xs on them, indicating just how much alcohol one can expect. They range in strength from zero (non-alcoholic drinks) to five bottles (the appropriately named "Zombie"). The drink on the left is called a "Boo Loo". Silly name...with four bottles and Xs. The blue one is a "Neptune's Garden" which kicked my ass with 3 Xs. Two or three drinks from Forbidden Island's vast repertoire might earn you a cab ride home, or at least a fun, stumbling walk. So, of course, we love this place.

Afterward, we headed over to Havana because I desperately wanted plantains, and Forbidden Island's limited menu of fried foods left a little to be desired. When DJC and I took two seats at the bar, we were greeted by bartender Johnathan. Just trying to make conversation, I asked what his favorite dark rum was. He immediately turned around a grabbed a bottle of Zaya Gran Reserva. He poured us a little straight up and asked us to smell it. I inhaled deeply and smelled warm sugar, vanilla, and caramel. It was positively luscious. Then he made DJC his "daiquiri", which consisted of a shot and a half of Zaya, fresh squeezed lime juice and a splash of simple syrup, all shaken with a crushed mint leaf garnish. Quite literally, it is the best mixed drink I have ever had in my life. Just delicious and lethal, especially on a hot day. I was so blown away that I came home and wrote a glowing, 5-star Yelp review.

Last weekend, we rounded up the usual suspects and headed back to Havana. The cocktail was so tasty that they HAD to try it. Bartender Johnathan recognized us from the previous week, and had read my Yelp review. We ordered two rounds of drinks and several appetizers. Johnathan sent over a decadent chocolate mousse dessert, on the house, and "forgot" to charge us for several drinks. He said it was the least he could do after the great Yelp review. He explained that they've been getting slammed on Yelp lately and really appreciated my nice words and that I had brought people back to try his drinks. We all had a great night and I've found a new favorite rum. Everyone wins!!

Most people only Yelp when they've had a negative dining experience. I get that...I've done it, for sure. But how frequently do we write about our good experiences? You never know when your review will be read and really appreciated by the owners or managers of the restaurants you visit. And if you're a regular, as DJC and I aspire to become at Havana, your positive review might even have unexpected bonuses attached to it! So, if you've recently dined somewhere outstanding or experienced excellent service, write about it. You never know who could be seeing your words and how they could pay off in the future...

Adventures in karaoke

I've been meaning to write about this FOREVER, but blogging keeps getting pushed to the back burner lately. Without getting in to it too much, there's been a lot going on, so blogging is pretty far down on the list. But this story's epic, ya'll. And its guaranteed to make you laugh.

A few weeks ago, I hopped in my car and headed over to my sister's friend's birthday party at The Mint in San Francisco. My role for the night was to provide backup for my sister in the event that she ran into someone she really didn't want to see. Because that's what sisters do. Anyways, ever heard of this joint? I surely hadn't. All I knew was that it was a karaoke bar, and that alone scared me. But when I heard that it was a predominantly gay karaoke bar, I became interested. This might actually be kinda fun, I thought to myself. I had zero plans to sing any songs, but hey, I could do a night of karaoke and free drinks...sure.

When we walked in, someone was doing a HORRID rendition of "With a Little Help From My Friends". It hurt my soul. Somewhere, John Lennon was rolling over in his grave. Everyone in our party looked at one another skittishly. Oh man, I thought. This was gonna be a LOOOONG night. But after several drinks, several songs by people who were pretty good, and several who where TOTALLY having a blast regardless of singing sucktitude, I stared to sing along in my seat. Before I knew it, I looked over to see TW (sis's significant other) BELTING out the lyrics to "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley. Yeah, that's right, the Rick Roll. Funny thing was that I also knew all the lyrics. Alcohol was flowing, people were singing fun songs, and I had to admit to myself that this wasn't so bad.

Then, like 5 people in a row sang totally sappy, Debbie Downer, buzzkill songs. You could totally feel the place's energy go right out the door along with more than half the people. The vibe became so serious! Puccini's "Nessun Dorma" at a karaoke bar?! Really?! I don't care if you can totally rock that very difficult song (which the guy did)....karaoke is supposed to be silly and fun. Like Spice Girls, Bon Jovi fun. Like Sir Mix-a-Lot fun. Sir Mix-a-lot. Hmmmmm. That gave me an idea. In my drunken mind, I devised a sure-fire way to get people involved, hyped up and singing along again. I grabbed a pen and a request form, snagged $5 from TW, wrote down my name as well as my sister's and submitted it to the sleazy "DJ".

Ten minutes later, my sister and I found ourselves up on stage BUSTING out "Baby Got Back". Keep in mind, we're two very white girls in a gay karaoke bar. The details of the actual performance are a little fuzzy to me because of the nerves and the alcohol, but apparently neither of us looked at the screen once for the lyrics. There were mad dance moves on stage, dancing off stage, and people cheering us on. Because we were seriously working the dance moves while trying to sing, we were pretty out of breath. Looking back, I personally feel like I could have done a better job of bringing Sir Mix-a Lot's vision to life. But one fact was clear: the white girls single handedly got the place hopping again! Massive high-fives ensued as we left the stage. Somewhere, at the back of The Mint, I think I saw the "Nessun Dorma" guy giving us the stink eye.

I called it a night shortly after that. I figured there was no way I could top my performance, so I decided to end on a high note. There's no video, thank goodness, so the memory of bringing the bar back to life lives on only in a few pics that people managed to get. Regardless of how apprehensive I was walking in to the whole event, I walked out of the bar feeling like a freaking star. Karaoke's good like that. Perhaps next time, if there is a next time, I'll do it a little more sober, though...

Video of some of the most amazing moments I experienced that evening coming soon... promise, its worth it.

Gardening 101: Planters

Lately, a few of my friends have been posting lovely pics of their gardens and the fruits of their labor. BT's tomatoes look mouth-watering (like, seriously!), Arvay's squash has me thinking about delicious soups and raviolis, and Miss E's garden looked to be coming along nicely (although I couldn't find pics!). Well, all you fancy-schmancy gardeners, have I got a treat for you!

Behind our house, there is a "garden", although it is not maintained by either DJC or myself. Our wacky neighbors have haphazardly planted all sorts of things that we can't identify in all kinds of unusual "planters". So, in honor of my friends' hard work and carefully planned out gardens, I present some photos that are the EXACT OPPOSITE of that:

What the hell is this thing? Honestly. And if you look closely, I'll bet you can see the KFC BUCKET that something else unidentifiable is planted it. The best part is that the KFC bucket is semi-planted in the ground. Nothing says garden fresh produce like KFC. Word.

More unidentifiable stuff. And look! There's that awesome KFC bucket again! I can't get over that thing!! Seriously, how much do proper planting buckets cost? I'll bet its a lot less than a greazy bucket of chicken.

This might be my favorite backyard sight. No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is a bunch of random crap...planted in AN OLD BATHTUB! I don't get it. Where does one even get an old bathtub? And moreover, what possesses one to turn it into a planter?! Notice that there is plenty of good, old fashioned dirt all around the bathtub. So strange.

These are growing on one of the plants in the bathtub. They look like little chili peppers. Little black, poisonous, stinky chili peppers. What are they in reality? I have no freaking idea.

Another creative "planter", or, as the rest of us in the normal world call it, a recycling bin.

I believe the shrubbery on the ground is a cherry tomato plant that has all but killed the Meyer lemon tree that was originally there. This tree used to produce lovely, delicious, sweet lemons. It still kinda does, but the fruit is now MUCH higher up on the tree. The neighbors have over-fertilized the tomato plant to the point where it has taken over pretty much everything else in the area. The irony of the whole mess is that the plant hardly produces any tomatoes. Most of them spoil before they are ready to be picked.

Here's a better shot of the once prolific Meyer lemon tree. Notice that it's being choked by whatever is growing near it. Also, notice all the random junk in the background.

This whole area is a sore spot for DJC and I, as we would like to be able to use it, or at least make it nicer, but since we do not own the building and the other tenants are relatives of the person who does, we get bubkus. Its a bummer that we can't make the space a decent place to actually grow fruits and veggies, but every now and then I do get a strange laugh out of the plants in the bathtub....

Weekend roundup...the photography edition

This truly was a gorgeous, but strange Bay Area weekend. The weather was all over the place...sunny one minute and raining the next. Yes, rain. In July. IN CALIFORNIA! Weird, I know. But the erratic weather really did make for some excellent photos. Here, have a look:


I took these at the Naval boat dock right down the street from our house after dinner on Friday night. A few minutes after we left, I noticed in my rear view mirror that the sky had become even more orange and amazing. I was bummed that I didn't get some better shots, even though these are pretty good. DJC always says I'm impatient. Guess he's right.

This was taken from our back steps minutes after it stopped raining early Saturday evening. BL happened to be on his way over to our house around the same time and described his weather experience for us: "One minute, the sun was so bright I literally had to put my sun glasses on and lower the sun shade in my car so that I could still see the road. The next minute it was raining, but it was still sunny. SO WEIRD!!" On the way up our back stairs, he pulled his cell phone out to show me a pic he had just taken of the resulting rainbow, but then I saw this one behind him. By the time I grabbed my camera, this was all that was left. Still pretty damn cool, though.

Recently, I've been experimenting with Trader Joe's fresh pizza crust. The top pic is my very first effort. I made a BBQ chicken pizza with thinly sliced heirloom tomatoes, lipstick peppers and aged gouda. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but it was effing *delicious*. The bottom pic represents my attempt at recreating the "You Say Potato" pizza from Escape from New York. This pizza has a pesto sauce, thinly sliced red potatoes, roasted garlic, mozzarella, smoked fontina and parmigiano reggiano cheeses. Although it wasn't quite the same, it was still very tasty. I can't say I'll ever go back to buying frozen pizza or ordering takeout again. TJ's fresh crust tastes great and is way more cost effective, not to mention more fun.

Another great weekend in the books. What did you all do? Anything cool? Happy new week, ya'll. =)

OH! BTW, Dr. Cromartie accepted all five of my written summaries last Thursday (two from the first week, two from the current week, and one extra credit assignment). FINALLY! It only took me three weeks to figure out what he wanted. Damn.

You're supposed to feed a cold, right?

And starve the flu? Have I got that right? If not, I don't know what the hell is going on with me, then. Long story short, I am as sick as a dog right now. Have been since I woke up on Saturday morning. Not that it's slowed me, or my appetite, down too much, though...

Saturday night, DJC, BL and I hit San Francisco to blow off a little steam and to check out on of my fave DJs ever, the darn cool Sam Pool (also known as SPL). Last time we caught up with this guy was in November and he was spinning dubstep, which he is not that well known for. Hard and rough drum n' bass is his specialty and Saturday night, he was scheduled to drop "gunshots to the chest" at Underground SF. We feared that the place would be packed seeing as that it was Pride weekend, but there were the perfect amount of people there; not so many that dancing was difficult, but not too few that the night could be considered a bust. Anyways, we drank. And drank. Shenanigans ensued. BL slept in his car. It was an awesome night full of good friends and great music.

The next morning I awoke to an empty tummy. Feeling pretty shitty, I decided that the only thing worth eating could be found at McDonald's. Now, it's probably been a good 5 years, maybe more, since I've been to a McDonald's. Seriously. But for whatever reason, I NEEDED a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit, hash browns, a McCafe, and orange juice. To add insult to injury, I didn't even get out of the car when I went. Hey, the drive-thru was empty and I was tired, damn it. GO ME!!

Let me just say that I enjoyed every single greasy-ass bite of breakfast. And, my iced vanilla McCafe latte was better than the ones I get at Chargebucks. Yeah, seriously! I got it with nonfat milk (which is pretty hilarious considering my calorie fest with the actual food I got) and it was cheaper than anything Chargebucks offers. I might never go back there again and just stick with the McCafe!! Weird, I know.

Yesterday, I woke up with a miserable sore throat and a craving for donuts. Sure, I could have just gone to Jamba Juice and gotten something healthy, but when I'm sick, the body gets what the body wants. I savored every bite of a delicious glazed donut.

Today, my car just mysteriously steered itself to Taco Bell for a Volcano taco (OMG, YUM!)

Needless to say, if I don't get well enough to make it back to the gym soon, I'm gonna be in some serious trouble! LOL!

Back!!

Ok, so its been forever since I've updated this thing. Yeah, I've had a lot going on recently. Here's a brief rundown of just the last week:

Saturday: Hit up the Wine Mine's two year anniversary party. We partook of the BBQ and $1 tasting. I came home with 5 bottles of wine for under $50. My new favorite grape is the torrontés. So light and delicious on a hot summer day. Believe me, Saturday was definitely a hot summer day. DJC and I were supposed to start cleaning the house. We didn't.

Sunday: Despite the outrageous Bay Area heat, we spent nearly all day cleaning our house. His father was due in town the following day and we had accumulated sooooo much stuff over the years that needed to go. Somewhere in the mix of everything, I needed to study for my first final, pharmacology. I didn't get much studying done, but thanks to a mad sale at Kohl's, our house looks pretty nice. BTW, thanks to square pieces of foam, I DOMINATED the slip cover on the couch. WOOT!

Monday: Laundry. Finishing touches on cleaning. Studying...in theory. Dinner in San Francisco at Farmer Brown with DJC's dad. Man, what a great night. If you live in the area and like cool restaurants, Motown tunes spun by a live DJ, unique drinks and good food, you really should check out Farmer Brown. What's interesting, though, is that it was nearly empty. We didn't have reservations and we were seated right away. In past visits, its been so crowded that we can hardly move around, especially near the bar area. I guess the economy is such that SF's hipsters prefer to drink their shitty cans of PBR at home now (which really isn't a bad thing). Anyways, dinner was great, complete with red velvet cake at the end. Oh, how I love red velvet cake!

Tuesday: More studying...this time for real. I staked out an area of the local Starbucks and didn't move for several hours. Later that night DJC and I headed out to a farewell party for JZ, who is now in Hawaii for her Masters. The party was held at her father's house up in the hills and was just breathtaking. Recently, they had added a new full kitchen to the garage, which opened to a lovely open-air patio/BBQ area with plenty of comfy seating. JZ christened it the "garage-mahal". So clever and funny she is. I will miss her dearly. I guess we'll just have to go to Hawaii one of these days to visit.

Wednesday: Took the pharmacology final first thing in the morning. Bombed it. I needed at least a 90% on the final to maintain my A in the class. Needless to say, I ended up with a B+ after a dismal 82% on the final. I wanted an A in that class so badly. I just wish I would have budgeted more studying time instead of spending hours dusting and vacuuming. Oh well. The rest of Wednesday was wonderful, though. we picked up DJC's dad and took him to La Note for a late brunch. Mmmmmm...pancakes. Wednesday night, we traveled out to the East Bay to have a delicious mexican dinner with my parents. We ended up at my parents' house for dessert...port, brie, fruit and American Idol (Adam, you were ROBBED!!). It was a great night.

Thursday: After picking DJC's dad up, we met up with BL, who had brought his Ferrari up for service. But before that, there was some high speed frivolity to be had in the Berkeley hills. DJC's dad had never ridden in a Ferrari, and he was thrilled with this part of his trip. After many twists and turns, all four of us settled down for lunch at the Paragon Cafe at the Claremont Hotel. It was a sunny day, and there was nothing on the schedule but soaking up the rays on the deck, and enjoying a few cocktails (white grape martini!!) and each other's company. The food was so-so, but it didn't matter. Later that night, we hit up Swig in San Francisco for a night of Below Zero beats and a tasting of Ploom's innovative products. I'm not a smoker at all, but this stuff was pretty cool. It was like a small, hand held vaporizer for tobacco and herbal pods that produced zero smoke. As we puffed away, we all commented on how we were standing in a very small circle and no one was blowing smoke on one another. We liked the flavor called "Gold", which tasted of honey and cognac. Again, it was an excellent night.

Oh yeah, at some point on Thursday I took a tumble down the back stairs of my house. It hurt my pride more than anything, but I did hit pretty hard. I laughed then, but Friday morning was a different story.

Friday: Seeing as that I did nothing but eat for the past week, I hit the gym. I was SORE from my fall (back, right hip and ribs), but I tackled a 90 minute class of kickboxing, dance and yoga. It hurt, not gonna lie, but it also felt really good. Check out the new video from my gym!! Its awesome, although the music leaves a little to be desired. The rest of the day was spent doing things that I didn't have time for earlier in the week.

Today, I'm catching up on the blog thing. Sorry for my lack of posts. I promise to get back on track this week after my lame communications final on Tuesday. We're heading back out to the East Bay today for a birthday BBQ for my mother...and then, at some point I should try to care about this next final and study a little. We'll see how that goes. LOL. Talk to you all soon!!

B/R face time

A while back, I started writing for a site called Bleacher Report just for fun. Bleacher Report is an open-source sports network, meaning anyone could write about whatever they wanted and it would be "published" on the site. The point is to encourage constructive dialog about sports and for writers to improve their writing skills through the advice of B/R's excellent editors (thanks, Jay!)

I wrote mostly about hockey (shocking, I know) but also threw in some random articles from time to time just to keep things interesting. I wrote under the same name that I use here, and as a result, most of my readers thought I was a guy. For a while, though, I got some really good feedback about my writing style and content. I attained "Syndicated Writer" status after penning just 10 articles (B/R has a deal with CBS Sports Online to re-post the best B/R articles). All was well.

But then, around the time of the Olympics, I started to notice that there were people writing VERY opinionated pieces in very rude voices. They knew they were intentionally pissing people off and they didn't care. Flame wars took place in the comments section. Nearly all constructive conversation ceased in favor of comments like, "Dude, your [sic] a fucking retard. You should be shot for...X, Y and Z". I became extremely discouraged and pretty much gave up on writing for Bleacher Report.

It's not Bleacher Report's fault. The same thing happens with every open board or site that's not mediated. People think its cool to say whatever they want to say because they're hiding behind a computer screen. But for those who wrote to improve our skills and were in it for the right reasons like myself, it became something I no longer wanted to be a part of. And I'm exaggerating a little...that kind of behavior didn't happen all the time or on every article. But it still left a bad taste in my mouth and I didn't want to take the chance of one of those people finding one of my articles. I'm kinda sensitive and tend to take things personally...or so I'm told. ;)

Regardless of the fact that I wasn't writing anymore, I kept in touch with a few of the guys that worked for B/R who knew that The Enforcer and myself are one in the same. Recently, they had their first annual Bleacher Report meet-up in San Francisco. I went to meet the people face to face that I had been communicating with online and whose articles I had read. I'm so glad I did. Zander, Max, and Jay were SO friendly. Zander, in particular, seemed to enjoy introducing me to everyone, stating that I wrote "as The Enforcer" (and I admit, it was kinda fun to see the reactions on the faces of my readers to see that The Enforcer is actually a chick that writes about hockey).

I'm not sure if I'll start writing there again, but it was really great to meet up with the people behind the site. I don't visit it as frequently as I used to, so I don't know if the same characters are still up to their old antics, but aside from the bull, Zander and company have a pretty good thing going over at B/R. They continue to grow in readers and contributors and I wish them all the best. They honestly couldn't have been nicer.

My day at jury duty

Every year, I receive the dreaded form in the mail stating that I've been chosen for jury duty. Year after year, I call the night before and hear the heavenly message that I will not have to report. Year after year...except for 2009. My luck had run out. I had to report.

I drove to the county courthouse and stood outside with a large cross section of the county's finest. No less than 10 people around me were chain smoking. People talked about passing piss tests and their baby daddies. Two men near me were talking about the abysmal state of the economy. To really emphasize his point, one man pulled out his pocket bible and read the other man a verse. They both nodded knowingly. I failed to see how the verse related to the conversation at all. Several women hollered obscenities into their cell phones. It's safe to say that I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Finally, we all went in and passed through the metal detectors on our way up to the third floor. Near the elevators, I saw an old college friend who happens to be a District Attorney nowadays. Because he hadn't seen me, I debated whether or not I should say hello because I was dressed like a major frump (Really, who dresses up for jury duty!? I had Uggs on. 'Nuff said.), and he was in a sharp navy suit and tie. But thankfully, I sucked up my insecurities and stopped him in the lobby. My time at the courthouse was made infinitely more tolerable because I didn't just let him walk by (thanks Counselor!).

In the crowded juror room, I managed to find a seat, pulled out my pharmacology book and began studying. Why is it that people always want to talk in situations like this? Clearly, I had my nose buried in a book and wasn't interested in talking, and yet people interrupted me over and over, asking all kinds of questions. Personal questions. The hours dragged on and on. My name was called at around 10am. At 10:45, we were told to take a "break" and come back at 1:45pm.

Thankfully, the Counselor took me out for an enjoyable lunch and a long overdue catch-up sesh. I returned at 1:45 and resumed studying, this time undisturbed. At around 2:45pm, everyone was dismissed because the case had settled. As happy as I was to be leaving the confines of the stuffy juror room, I couldn't help but wonder why they couldn't have settled at, say, 11am?! Damn. At least I had plenty of studying to help pass the time.

In another year, I'm sure I'll be called again. But hopefully, I won't have to report again for a looooong time...

Apologies...

...for the lack of posting lately. I seem to have picked up a particularly ass-kicking strain of the bug that's been going around lately. It's all but drained my will to live and writing is not high on the list of things I'd like to be doing.

Of course, because I am an idiot, I've been pushing myself too hard lately and am now sacked out on the couch, cursing my own stubborn attitude. In my mind, if I don't admit to myself that I'm sick, I'm not. That approach worked pretty well right up until my birthday party last night.

First off, Marc 49 is the coolest place ever. We occupied the entire back room and our waitress was unbelievable. The wine flowed, the company was amazing, and thanks to the heat lamps, I felt like passing out all night long. Aside from being sick and getting worse once I got home, I had a great night. I am convinced that I have the coolest friends in the entire world.

Today, I am miserable. Sitting on the couch is usually a very comfortable thing, but I am so achy and yucky that I can't seem to find a way to sit or lay that doesn't bother me. Advil and sleep sound good right about now, but I'll probably just end up watching all the Oscar fanfare. Yeah. And until I feel a bit better, there's not gonna be a whole lot of activity here. Sorry about that. My life is pretty dull these days, anyway...

Sorry for the super late notice...

...but if you all are interested in sports dynamics with a special emphasis on development and youth sports, I highly recommend that you tune in to hear my wonderful internet friend Kirk Mango's interview on The Sports Doctor on February 19th at 6:30pm CST on 90.9 WDCB FM Radio (if you click the link, you'll be connected to the live stream).

Kirk has recently written a book called Becoming a True Champion and his talk will cover the book, his daughters and youth sports training in general. He and I met through Bleacher Report and have shared many interesting conversations regarding all aspects of youth sports, including psychological and physical development.

If you're at all interested, please tune in and check him out. Kirk is a great guy with some very astute observations and viewpoints on striving to be the best athlete and person that you or those you coach can be.

I was doing so well...

I don't know what happened. For the last 28 days, I had been eating really healthy and hitting the gym consistently for at least an hour each time. I was starting to see results. All was well.

And then today came along, and the wheels done falled off the bus, ya'll. The alarm went off at 8:15am and I figured that I had plenty of time to make it to the 9am CORE class. Apparently, I turned the alarm off and the next thing I knew, it was 10am. I say that I apparently turned off the alarm because I don't remember doing it and am convinced that the gnome that lives under the bed and steals one of each of my socks did it. In any case, I was stuck in a super-sleepy haze for the rest of the day. I really felt like everything I did was in slo-mo.

Then there's the lunch issue. I meant to eat some lean protein and maybe some vegetables. Instead, I found myself at Arizmendi Bakery, where I saw myself reach into the cases containing freshly baked, fragrant breads and rolls again and again. Yep, I went on a full-throttle, break-neck bread bender. I left the bakery with one cheese roll, one corn muffin and one chocolate Thing. It wasn't pretty. By the time I got to class thirty minutes later, I had consumed the entire corn muffin and half of the cheese roll. I came back for the chocolate Thing two hours after that.

Today is DJC's birthday. He and a coworker hit up The Trappist for a few celebratory beers and I joined them after class. As I've gotten older, I've found that I can't really handle drinking beer anymore. I jsut feel so bloated. Well, today I decided to have a huge, refreshing glass of Allagash White (basically, a Belgian witbeir...like I know what that means...DJC is the resident beer snob). I was very full when we left, but seeing as that I had only eaten various breads for lunch, real food sounded like a good idea.

We walked next door to Tamarindo, which neither of us had ever tried before. We ordered SO. MUCH. FOOD. I know I should have stopped after the third round of tapas showed up, but my god, all of the food was SO AMAZING, I just couldn't stop. Now, I'm sitting on the couch, shifting uncomfortably from side to side, wishing that I would have stopped when my tummy told me to. Holy ooof.

Today redefines over-doing it in every sense of the word for me. Too much sleep, too much bread, too much beer, and no matter how freaking delicious it was (and believe you me, it WAS), too much Tamarindo. I'm supposed to take a 90 minute combo kickboxing/dance/yoga class tomorrow morning. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

Here are a few pics from earlier, in case you want to see parts of my gluttonous day:

I think it's safe to say I'll be eating salads and drinking water for the next few days until I detox. Because, damn, I seriously fell off the wagon today.

I'm just sayin'...

We were lucky...last night, me, DJC, Lucky_girl, M and Miss E and boyfriend each had a ticket to the hottest game in town: The Sharks vs. the Detroit Red Wings. I'm tellin' you, the game was EPIC. I don't think I've ever cheered as much at a sporting event before, which is really saying something. And sitting in a heavily populated Detroit section made all that cheering even more enjoyable. Totally amazing experience. But, here's the thing that bothered me a little...

Between periods, there is a seventeen minute intermission during which most fans leave their seats in search of beer, nachos, hot dogs and other dee-lish game-time treats. But, choosing to do so comes at the cost of one's personal space. Seriously...it's all assholes and elbows in the lobby area. Unless my bladder forces me to move, I generally avoid the masses. Lucky_girl and I stayed put in our seats during one of the intermissions so we could catch up, tell stories, and laugh (because, damn, it's been a while). It was then I noticed that nearly everyone sitting around us and in front of us was playing some sort of game on their iPhone or iPod Touch. The folks not playing games were checking emails and text messages. People sitting right next to each other, not talking, engrossed in the technology. WTF?

As a society, have we gotten to the point where we MUST be entertained and visually stimulated every second? What ever happened to good, old fashioned conversation? Why actually turn to talk to the person you've come to the game with when you can just send a text message instead? Ya dig?

Random stuff

First day of classes today. Pharmacology is being held in a room that is MUCH too small for the number of people enrolled in the class. Thankfully, half of us will be taking the class online. The professor is has a dry wit that borders on smart-assedness, and I respect that. Already, I'm totally interested in the material. Should be a good semester. And no parking tickets, even though I inadvertently parked in one of the faculty lots. Thumbs up.

Had lunch with an old-school diver friend before class. He and I have re-connected after a TON of years through the continued magic of Facebook. As most of you know, I was SO against stupid social networking sites a year ago, but Facebook has got to be the greatest thing in all of the world. Hell, my cousin's wife even found me! I really love catching up with all the folks that come out of the woodwork. Very cool stuff.

And, just for fun, I offer you this:

I totally get a kick out of this commercial. I love how into it the father is. The way he shakes his butt at the end is just freaking priceless. Any time I'm having a bad day, this one is sure to cheer me up. It's just so sweet. Having a bad day? Watch. I dare you not to feel the warm fuzzies. =)

If its too loud, you're too old

Dear Mighty sound engineers,

I like loud. Really, I do. I'm a firm believer in cranking the volume WAAAAY up because music just sounds better when its louder. BUT, Friday night's Calibre/ DRS show was a little too much. Ok, A LOT too much. If people have to actively seek out earplugs because they can feel their hearing being damaged, it's time to turn it down a notch or two. The line for earplugs was actually longer than the line at the bar or the bathrooms. That shit ain't right.

Even with the earplugs in, the sheer frequency of the bass literally hurt my ears and gave me a headache. BL, too. Talking to Method One (Hi Jason!) outside, we realized that weren't alone. It was just too loud to tolerate. We were all really excited to see Calibre and DRS live and we were totally disappointed. We wanted to stay longer but eventually, the headaches and ear pain won out and we left long before the show had ended.

Its been a long time since I had been to Mighty before Friday night , so I don't know if ya'll crank the volume that high for every other performer, but I think it might be time to seriously re-evaluate how music actually sounds in your club. The highs were too high, and the lows were way too low and horribly blown out and distorted. Bringing in a DJ like Calibre should have been a slam dunk because his music is beautiful on its own, but when you've got hardcore fans like DJC wanting to leave because he couldn't stand the way everything sounded, you've got a problem there.

Mighty is notorious for poor acoustics, but given the large space, it shouldn't be that difficult to design a sound scheme that works. And if you can't figure it out, perhaps its time to start looking for a different line of work. Not gonna lie...Friday's show was easily the shittiest sounding show I've been to...possibly ever. I may be a little older than the club kids of today, but I'm still all about loud volumes...its just gotta be done in the right way. You all have a ways to go in reaching that right kind of loud.

On the other hand, I did manage to snap a few cool pics of the goings on:

One thing, though, Calibre honey...it might be time for a haircut. And a little sun. I'm just sayin'...

Guitar Hero

Saturday evening...sitting on the couch...5pm...zero plans. Actually, I figured I'd just spend the night re-caulking the bathroom tub (because, DAMN). I even borrowed a caulking gun from my dad, which, trust me when I say this, is a serious piece of machinery. The tutorial alone that my dad provided me with lasted at least 10 minutes.

Then, the phone rang. After one lightning quick trip to Taco Bell, one BART ride to San Francisco and one $9 Hangar One and tonic at Farmer Brown while I waited for BL to finish dinner, I was able to snag this pic from the floor of the Warfiled. Pretty freaking cool, huh?


For those who don't recognize this uber-amazing, bald, guitar slinger, that's Joe Satriani. Yeah, we were that close (note the rocking fist-pump of approval in the foreground!) . But, more about that in a sec...

First, we were treated to the likes of Mountain. Never heard of Mountain? Yeah, me neither. But I'm sure you'd recognize their biggest hit, Mississippi Queen after hearing the first note. It's pretty synonomous with classic rock. Anyhoo, they have a new bass player who, as evidenced by the next two photos, couldn't stand still long enough to not come out blurry...


Homeboy has about five long dreadlocks on top of his head, which he swung around in a helicopter-type fashion when the band really started kicking ass. It was totally comical (and very difficult to capture!!)


The old dude is Leslie West. Say what you will about Mountain, but that guy is a freaking legend in the guitar world. And I was pleasantly surprised to hear that the guy can still ROCK. Like, really, really well. It was a great way to open the show.

Then, The Extremist came out and blew us all away...

You can recognize an awesome guitarist in two ways:
1. By their obvious super-human skill with the instrument itself, paying special attention to the hands, and...
2. By the way they move their mouths when they're really feeling what they're hands are creating. This never fails. If you know someone who can totally wail on the guitar, ask him or her to play for you, and then observe the mouth movements. Its awesome.

Anyways, the show was just incredible. I've been listening to SO much electronic music lately that I've totally forgotten just how much I love the sound of electric and acoustic guitars. In high school, I dated a serious guitar player who introduced me to the likes of Steve Vai, Eric Johnson, Nuno Bettencourt, Gary Hoey, Jimmy Page, Eddie Van Halen, Jeff Beck, Yngwei Malmsteen and yes, Joe Satriani. I owe A LOT of my current taste in music to his influence. Through him, I gained a ridiculous appreciation for the sheer skill involved in making music of that kind. The guys listed above...they make it look easy. The things they can do with a guitar, I'm convinced, makes them not only geniuses, but super-human. They take making music to the extreme. And hearing it live is even better.

Thanks go out to BL for snagging the tickets. Even if the old, annoying, crusty guy with a long white, curly beard and hair kept offering me things I didn't want, I had a blast!

And, just because I think Steve Vai does things with a guitar that no one else in the world does, take a listen to two very different examples of his work:

I just love how this one moves. So perfect, and yet pretty accessible even by those who can't really appreciate the difficulty. On the other hand, there's this one, where he really pushes the limits of what one simple instrument can do:

When listening to this, keep in mind that he did the whole thing with only guitars. I tried to find the tabs to give you an insight into the crazy things he does in this song, but no dice. The nuttiest part of all is that Joe Satriani was Steve Vai's teacher!

Happy Monday, y'all. Rock on.