Monday, February 27, 2006

Creative Little Brother

This is a recent email exchange b/w me and my brother:

To: Sis
Fr: Bro
Subject: monkeys poo. new military weapon when flung

i demand more pictures of the cat. kitty kitty maow.


To: Bro
Fr: Sis
Subject: Re: monkey poo. new military weapon when flung

do you know how hard it is to take pictures of a cat? they never stop moving!


To: Sis
Fr: Bro
Subject: autum leaves turns into cherry blossoms: wrath of the ninja

you gotta be stealthy like a ninja.
take pictures when it doesn't know it's coming.
sneak up on your tippy toes behind said cat and grab it's tail
throw ninja stars at it and watch in amazement as the cat fend off each star with it's own ninja abilities.
and watch as it does it's ninja nap.



I don't know which is weirder: my brother's choice of words for subject titles or his advice on how to take pictures of a cat.

Anyhow, to my bro: here's a picture of a cat, even if it's not my cat, because I haven't perfected the ninja moves you suggested. And p.s.: Stella doesn't fling ninja stars, she flings her own claws.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

the Lottery Game

BF: I have to go buy a lottery ticket. If I win the lottery, it's "Bye Bye Quinny!"

Me: That's not very nice.

BF: I'll give you LASIK as a parting gift.

Me: *insert sarcasm here* Oh yay, new eyes! Whoo hoo!

BF: See, aren't I nice? I could just leave without telling you that I won the lottery, but instead I leave you with a parting gift.

Me: Well, what happens if I win the lottery?

BF: Well, then we'll get married right away, the very next second.

Me: I'm going to get a lottery ticket too then.

BF: No, you'll jinx my chances of winning.

Me: You'll get more if I win.

BF: *insert sarcastic voice here* Yes, I'll get lots more if you win. Lots. Who wouldn't want to be with you for life?

Me: Hey!


Me: I wonder if anyone won the lotto last night.

BF: What was last night--Super or Mega?

Me: Super Lotto. Mega is tomorrow.

BF: I don't know. I better check the numbers to see if we're breaking up yet.

Me: Hey, there's a possiblity we could be married if I had the winning ticket.

BF: Yes, yes...that's what I meant. Married. Did you hear me say breaking up? You misheard me.


Two people won the drawing for Wednesday's Super Lotto drawing. Those two people were neither myself or the Boy. Those two people live in Canoga Park and Grass Valley.

Oh well. Mega Millions drawing is tomorrow night. =)

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

time for some more pictures

Fat Cat
Can you see the kitty?
There she is, doing her favority hobby -- sleeping.

Monday, February 20, 2006

rabbit food

breakfast -- Raisinbran cereal
lunch -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers
one hour gym work out
dinner -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers

breakfast -- Raisinbran cereal
lunch -- Unagi Donburi (I had to take a friend out to lunch!)
one hour gym work out
dinner -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers

breakfast -- Raisinbran cereal
lunch -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers
dinner -- Shake-n-bake chicken tenders, barbeque sauce, mixed greens

one hour gym work out
breakfast -- Raisinbran cereal
lunch -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers
dinner -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers

breakfast -- Raisinbran cereal
lunch -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers
one hour gym work out
dinner -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers

breakfast -- Raisinbran cereal
lunch -- turkey avacado croissant sandwich
dinner -- chicken breast, mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers
midnight munchies -- 2 Taco Bell crunchy tacos with no cheese that tasted so wonderful in my mouth.

lunch -- In-n-Out Combo #3 (hamburger, fries, soda). I have never savored french fries the way I on Sunday. Who knew a hamburger could taste so good.
dinner -- the Boy's mother fed us something called "Zuni Surprise" and I scarfed that down like I hadn't had real food in months. She also had me "test taste" her spice cake. I tested a couple of slices...

Monday--President's Day (which means one more day of cheating!)
lunch -- chicken burrito from Chipotle and lots of chips w/ salsa -- YUMMY!
dinner -- a handful of Doritoes.

I don't want to go back to the chicken-breast-mixed-greens-tomatoes-cucumbers regiman tomorrow. But like the Boy says: "Eating healthy is not exciting." No kidding.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Where am I?

I went to move my car this morning because it was street cleaning day. The cold wind hit my face as I walked out the front door, but I didn't realize it was that much colder than any other day. I got into my car, started the engine, looked up and saw that the windows were covered in "condensation" as usual. However, when I turned on the wipers, the "condensation" did not wipe away. I realized there was frost--ICY FROST--on my windows. Frost, the kind that only exists when it's cold enough for snowy weather. ICY FROST IN SAN FRANCISCO??? This is San Francisco, is it not? Where am I?

Okay, this being the first time that I had experienced frost-on-my-car in San Francisco, I ended up using all of the wiper fluid to try to wipe the frost away but didn't. Then I had to sit in the cold car while it heated up enough for me to turn on the heat to defrost the windshield. And since my car is an ancient piece of metal, I had to roll down all side windows in order to see out through the side. All this to move the car two blocks.

Then I hear that it's so cold in the Bay Area that it might snow, SNOW, in the wee hours tonight. Granted that even if it did snow, it probably isn't as bad as this nor'easter, but still. I didn't move 3,000 miles across the country to experience what I supposedly left behind.

I have to go dig out my scarves and gloves that I keep packed away for my Boston visits. I knew I should have moved to LA instead. Brr.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Tipping Cows

Since I spent most of my childhood growing up in Garden City, Kansas, the Boy figured I must have been quite the country bumpkin. So he asked me if I had ever gone cow tipping. My first thought was "cow what?" The Boy explained that since cows sleep standing up, if two people went up to the sleeping cow and pushed it over to its side, the cow would fall over and continue sleeping.

Now, I spent fourteen years in Kansas. We lived in a trailer park (hardee har har) and sometimes raised chickens in the backyard. We had a garden of all kinds of veggies in the back yard, and I even had a slight southern accent (which I was able to lose during my years in Boston). I mowed lawns as a kid, went fishing at the lake, walked three miles to and from school (sometimes in three feet of snow), both my parents worked at a beef factory where they killed cows and processed the meat for the supermarkets, and yet I have never heard of cow tipping.

My own brother, a born Jayhawker, has never heard of cow tipping either. I totally thought the Boy was making it all up. That was until I heard Carrie Underwood singing about cow tipping on her new CD (let's just ignore the fact that I am even listening to the music of the latest American Idol winner okay?):

My hotel in Manhattan
Holds more people than our town
And what I just paid for dinner
Would be a down payment on a house
I'd rather be tippin' cows in Tulsa
Than hailin' cabs here in New York
But I ain't in Checotah anymore
This is from her song "I Ain't in Checotah Anymore"

I have to call up all my Kansan friends and ask them why I never heard of cow tipping. Maybe Kansas was too "centralized" for cow tipping to become popular. Now I really have the urge to go push a cow over while it's sleeping.

Monday, February 13, 2006

So that's why they were dressed like dogs.

This past Saturday, I was on the MUNI on my way to see this year's Southwest Airlines Chinatown New Year Parade, when I saw from the corner of my eye that there were some ear flaps on a hoodie. Not believing that I just saw dog ears, I did a double take and saw three men dressed in dalmation hoodies, complete with ears and black little noses. I could not figure out, for the life of me, why they were dressed up. It obviously wasn't for Halloween, but do adults still have random costume parties?

Lo and behold, this morning I got my answer. They were dressed up for the Chinatown Treasure Hunt. What people will do for attention...

The parade is scheduled annually and it will go on in rain or shine. Since I've been here in 2002, it has rained every year on the parade. The weather was beauitful for a parade this year, so I decided to venture out and watch the parade in person. BAD IDEA. Not only could I not see anything from standing behind a crowd five people deep, I was pushed from side to side, stepped on, kids blocked my view by sitting on top of mail boxes, and it was getting colder every minute. Advice for next year: watch it on TV--trust me, it's more enjoyable that way.

Sunday, February 12, 2006


Of all the places to throw up, Jelly Belly had to get sick on top of my bed, right smack in the middle. What a nice surprise to come home to.

The only other time she threw up was when she was eating a paper bag. There was no evidence of paper this time; just dry cat food that was still pretty intact. I wonder what caused her to puke.

I have to go wash my sheets and comforter now.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Cat Haiku

The food in my bowl
Is old, and more to the point
Contains no tuna.
So you want to play.
Will I claw at dancing string?
Your ankle's closer.
There's no dignity
In being sick - which is why
I don't tell you where.
Seeking solitude
I am locked in the closet.
For once I need you.
Tiny can, dumped in
Plastic bowl. Presentation,
One star; service: none.
Am I in your way?
You seem to have it backwards:
This pillow's taken.
Your mouth is moving;
Up and down, emitting noise.
I've lost interest.
The dog wags his tail,
Seeking approval. See mine?
Different message.
My brain: walnut-sized.
Yours: largest among primates.
Yet, who leaves for work?
Most problems can be
Ignored. The more difficult
Ones can be slept through.
My affection is
conditional. Don't stand up,
It's your lap I love.
Cats can't steal the breath
Of children. But if my tail's
Pulled again, I'll learn.
I don't mind being
Teased, any more than you mind
A skin graft or two.
So you call this thing
Your "cat carrier." I call
These my "blades of death."
Toy mice, dancing yarn
Meowing sounds. I am convinced:
You're an idiot.
Editor's Note: I did not write these, so if the syllables are wrong, don't blame me.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

what not to say

Quote from the latest episode of WB's "Beauty and the Geek 2":

Chris, the nerd, trying to apologize to his partner, Tristan, who overheard him tell one of his speed date that he had not enjoyed an intellectual conversation since he started the show: "You're not unintelligent. You're just academically un-inclined...that's why they picked you for this show."

What a jerk!

BF: Wow, that's just wrong!

Me: Is un-inclined even a word?

BF: Am I that jerky?

Me: No, you're that much of a jerk, not like him anyway.

BF: I know I'm not that jerky...and I try to be too!

Me: Oh goodness.

Was it that hard?

I was setting up my work-out area at the start of my usual "Body Conditioning" class at the gym yesterday, and a newbie asked me what we needed to set up for the class. In between showing her which weights to use, she asked me if the pace of the class was slow or fast, and if a beginner would be able to keep up.

I'm a person with no sense of rhythm at all. Nada. I tried a beginner's Step Aerobics class one day and kept tripping over my feet. So when I first started this Body Conditioning class, I was still a klutz but it wasn't as hard to keep up as the Step Aerobics class. Which was exactly what I told the newbie, and reassured her that even if the first class is awkward, she would get the hang of it after a few classes. If I can do it, certainly she could too. And plus, you do everything at your own pace, no need to keep up with the music. She bounced away with an air of confidence around her.

Well, about fifteen minutes into the second set of lower body exercises (repetitions of straddling the step, jump up and down; then reps of squats and lunges), I took a glance at the newbie and saw her struggling to keep me. She caught my gaze and gave me a look of "I thought you said this was easy!" She just sat down during the lunges and squats and refused to do any of those reps, so I figured she has some form of knee injury and doesn't want to add to the pain.

Once the half hour lower body work out was completed and we were all getting weights for our upper body work-out, the newbie put her things away and left the class. She gave me one last evil glare before she walked out. For the last half hour of the class, I kept wondering why she didn't stay for the upper body work-out. If the reason she couldn't keep up during the lower body work out was due to a leg injury, then working out her arms shouldn't be a problem. She didn't even have to use heavy weights. The class was designed to tone your muscles, not build them up. Did she think this class was slow and all you do were stretches? That's what yoga is for.

I kinda felt bad for telling her the class was great and she would totally be able to keep up with no problem. I didn't think there were people less coordinated than I am. Oh well. I still like the class and I've got the buns and arms to prove it.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

The Cost of Freedom

Background info: The Boy recently became a homeowner. His goal was to rent it out by February 1 (look, February is flying by) but now he's trying to see if he can manage a mortgage and rent for his current apartment (he lives in SF and his house is in SAC). On top of the mortgage is utitilities, water and garbage for both places. Plus, a bunch of other things he NEEDS to purchase for his house (i.e. window coverings!).

If the Boy can't manage all of the above, he has these options to lessen some of his financial burden:

1. Screw Grandma on the rent (yep, his granny is his landlady in SF). Okay, first screw her by paying rent on the 15th instead of the 1st of the month. Then screw her by not paying rent at all but still living there. Poor Grandma...

2. Move in with the wonderful girlfriend (ME!!) who generously offered to house the Boy at her apartment for FREE. This way he doesn't screw granny on the rent because she can rent out his room to another relative or someone else. And he doesn't have to pay rent in SF!

3. Suck it up and let strangers move into his beautiful home in SAC so he can afford the mortgage.

So my friend (Q) and I were taking bets to see which option the Boy would go for first. Said friend thinks he'll follow in the order above: make granny poor, feel guilty about it then move in with me before allowing renters into his new home. I said he'd screw granny then rent out the house before he ever decides to move in with me.

Okay, this is all hypothetical and all, so we really wouldn't know what happens until it happens. However, when I told the Boy of our conversation regarding his options, this is what the Boy said he would do:

1. Screw Grandma on the rent.
2. Beg on the streets.
3. Rob a bank.
4. Prostitute himself.
5. Sell drugs.
6. Find renters.

Notice how the option of moving in with me isn't in there. Why, you ask? Here's the Boy's explanation: "Nothing is for free. I'd have to put up with your constant nagging about keeping the place clean and Jelly Belly meowing all night because I don't want her to sleep on the bed. That's too costly for me to be able to have free rent."

Me nag about cleanliness? Who was Evil Mr. Clean? And my friends wonder why I'm not married yet.

Saturday, February 04, 2006


Have you ever watched the first episode of "Beauty and the Geek" on the WB? Doesn't matter which season, but they always have one of the "beauties" (who are not really that hot anyway) say something about being able to see the future and referring to that ability as "ESPN." Where do they find these people?

Well, anyway, I have a story about ESP. The Boy and I were having dinner at Chili's tonight and we were waiting about twenty minutes for our food to arrive. I had ordered the baby back ribs and the Boy ordered nachoes.

(Aside: I always order the big dishes and the Boy gets the smaller dishes, but the wait staff always gives him the larger dish and gives me the small dish because they assume girls can't eat a whole rack of ribs. They do not know my eating abilities.)

Well, we were getting cranky and hungry, so after twenty minutes of waiting, we had this conversation:

BF: Where is our food?

Me: I don't know. Doesn't take long to make nachoes.

BF: Nachoes are easy. It must be your ribs.

Me: Well, let's get them to bring out your nachoes first then.

And as soon as those words came out of my mouth, the manager comes out and kneels down at our table:

Manager: I'm sorry guys, we burnt the nachoes so we had to do another batch. Your order will come out very soon.

BF: Wow, we were just talking about that. Thanks for letting us know.

Manager walks away and I commented that it was ironic that it was his nachoes that was holding up our food. After another five minutes of waiting, our food comes out and of course they put the nachoes in front of me and the ribs in front of him (oh, our initial waitress left for the night so we had a new waitress, but still, they should ask who ordered what).

BF: I'm just going to ignore the fact that they forgot my order of guacamole.

Me: Just ask them for it again.

BF: No, I'll live. (starts chomps on nachoes)

Me: (cutting up my ribs) My ribs are kinda dry. Where's the barbeque sauce? Help yourself to some ribs, honey.

BF: Don't eat it yet, I'll ask for some sauce on the side.

And just as those words were coming out of his mouth, the waitress came back with a cup of his guacamole sauce and asked if I needed a side of barbeque sauce. As she walked away to get my barbeque sauce, we were both amazed at the telepathic communications that was going on.

Me: Wow. That was weird.

BF: No kidding.

Me: Either the entire staff has ESP or someone has a microphone rigged to our table.

BF: I need some more coke.

Me: Why don't you use your powers to summon someone to bring a coke?

BF: (puts his fingers to his head and takes the pose of trying to send telepathic messages) I need a refill of Coke. I need a refill of Coke.

Nope, no one brought him a Coke automatically. We had to ask the waitress when she came back with the barbeque sauce.

Ribs were still dry, even with the extra barbeque sauce.

Friday, February 03, 2006


Suitcase packed for overnight stay in San Jose -- check.

Gym bag packed for early morning work out -- check.

Enough food for Jelly Belly for the weekend -- check.

Trash taken out and disposed of -- check.

Windows cracked open for air to flow -- check.

Aerosmith tickets in hand -- check.

Lug everything onto MUNI and get to the gym -- check.

30 minute run, shower, get ready for work -- check.

Get to work, check email messages and get a notice that the Lenny Kravitz/Aerosmith concert in San Jose has been canceled due to ILLNESS?? -- WTF????

Look, the Boy and I could have been in that crowd tonight. Our seats were right next to the left catwalk. And we can't make the rescheduled concert in April. =(

okay, I'm done whining.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

the jealousy game

The Boy does not get jealous.

Me: You almost lost me to a homeless man today.

BF: Yeah? How so?

Me: I was volunteering tonight at the legal clinic. My first client was a 33 year old man, living in the homeless shelter, and he has no idea what his immigration status is. No documents, no passports, no greencard, nada.

BF: Sounds glum.

Me: uh-huh. There wasn't much we could advise him on because he wasn't even sure when his mother got her greencard or her citizenship status. And he's all alone because his family kicked him out so his mother won't talk to him and hasn't been in touch with him for over ten years.

BF: gee, story is getting worse.

Me: So the only options he really had was 1) get in touch with his mother and find out the year she got her greencard; 2) find out if his mother ever petitioned for him to stay in the U.S.; 3) get married to a U.S. Citizen (NOT recommended) and then have spouse petition for him; and 4) stay undocumented and stay out of trouble.

BF: So how did I almost lose you to this homeless man?

Me: He asked me out as soon as I told him about getting married to a U.S. Citizen.

BF: He did?

Me: Yep, and his pick up line was: "You have such a majestic beauty."

BF: And what did you say?

Me: I said thanks for the compliment and if he didn't have any more questions, I'll show him out.

BF: That's it?

Me: No. He wanted to use the restroom, so he was in there for about 15 minutes. He came out with his face beet red, all smiles, then asked me: "Would you like to go out to dinner with me if I asked you?"

BF: Aww, he's shy. How'd you turn him down?

Me: What made you think I turned him down?

BF: You're sitting here having dinner with me.

Me: Oh, right. Well, I told him that it was very nice of him to ask me but I am already taken and it wouldn't be right to go out with clients.

BF: You're such a heartbreaker.

Me: I know.

BF: Where is he? I'll give him $10 to take you.

Me: Hey! One day, one of these weirdos who hit on me will be a real good catch and you'll regret saying that!

BF: Oh yes, yes...I'll be sorry. I'll beat up all the homeless men who dare look at my Quinny!

Me: See, that's the way it should be.

BF: I can't live without my Quinny. Quinny is the world to me.

Me: uh-huh

BF: Without Quinny, I'd just wilt and wither, and be carried away by the wind.

Me: Okay, now you're just getting corny.

BF: *blegh* that is too much corn.