Everyone's got an opinion

Your Butt Says You're Competitive

You are a powerful, assertive person. You are a go-getter in all aspects of your life. You are not afraid to flirt and show off what you've got. At times, you can be a bit full of yourself. You are drawn toward close, one-on-one relationships. You crave a partner - romantic or otherwise. You are friendly and self-assured. You're not one to brag, but you're quite happy with yourself overall. You tend to be a serious, straight laced kind of person. It takes you a while to warm up and let loose.

What Does Your Butt Say About You?

I'm not sure what my butt is saying right now but it's currently in New York. Hopefully there will be stories and photos when I return home.

You can take the girl out of Berkeley...

This past weekend was my usual holiday dogsitting stint with Dumb and Dumber. I felt kind of guilty because there was all the unpacking to do at home but this also means extra cash for NYC. And I did more than just hang with the dogs.

Saturday I got to spend time with the Zombie family. You would think that I had had enough chicken but then the various Wing Stop locations kept taunting me. I did not give in.

Saturday night I let someone twist my arm into going to meet up with some folks I know from high school. What I learned is that chatting with them on Facebook is enough for me. Because other than going to the same high school together 25 years ago? Yeah, not much else in common. Now if my best friends from high school had been there it probably would have been different. I've kept in touch with them all these years. Back then we joked that we were sisters. Perhaps it wasn't so much of a joke. But those other folks? Just don't have time to be around folks who raise eyebrows when I act like me. I get enough of that from my family. Thank you very much.

Oh, and there was reading. I finally finished Garnethill. And while out with Zombie Mom on Saturday, I discovered that there was a new book in the Sisters Grimm series. Finished that as well.


This morning I awoke in a strange house. (Marin and family moved at the beginning of April. This was my first weekend in the new house. But I can walk to Astronomico's from there amongst other places!) And I wanted bacon. And hash browns. So I drove to El Cerrito to get breakfast from Nation's -- cheese omelet, bacon and hash browns. I washed it down with a vanilla shake.

And so now I'm getting ready for the trip to New York. And finishing that craft project so that I can put it in the mail before I leave. And thinking about how sometimes it's good to be taken out of one's element. Makes one so much more focused about what's important in life.

The new B word

You Are Bitter

You aren't bitter at the world, even though you have a strong personality. Instead, you are sophisticated and cultured. You appreciate acquired tastes. You are very powerful. You have the ability to change a room's energy. While some may find you disagreeable, your points of view are intelligent and interesting.

What Taste Are You?

Getting settled

Thursday night I officially stopped being a resident of Berkeley. That's when I finished cleaning the old place and turned in my keys.


This was the first thing I saw as I got in my car to leave the apartment that last time. For some reason, I thought of Cookiecrumb.

So over the weekend, I decided to start doing some exploring. And by exploring, I mean checking out grocery stores. While Berkeley Bowl really isn't that far away, I thought it was time to become more familiar with stores closer to home.

In my travels, I discovered that there is a Safeway on Redwood Road. Kind of strange though. Like they have gift cards but no greeting cards. (I had to pick both up for Sista Locks's graduation on Sunday from Berkeley. I know that she will be a fantastic principal.) They also only have beer and wine. No other alcohol. It was kind of strange. Made me think I had landed back in Virginia somehow.

I was on Redwood because when you head down the hill, it becomes 35th. And that's where you find Little Joe's. I will be stopping there at least a couple of times a month since they have the Emmentaler and the "crack cheese" that I love so much. And so on Sunday, the kitchen officially reopened.

Mussel-fennel bisque -- again.
This was followed by this week's flavor.


Banana-walnut ice cream

Now if I could just get Natasha to eat something other than her old food. Because the closest places that sell that stuff are in Alameda and Berkeley.

Because I like y'all

I know some of y'all have been sitting around over the last couple of weekends, screaming, "Where the hell is my quiz?" Not to worry. The quizzes are back.

Your Spicy Score: HOT!

You're confident, sexy, and not afraid to go for it. Life is for living. You love being the center of attention, and you'll do anything to stay in the spotlight. You have no inhibitions. You're comfortable in your own skin, even when you have no clothes on! You're out for a good time, simple as that. You can't help it if other people get burned.

How Spicy Are You?

Multiplication

I have thought about writing about a lot of things this week. But everything I thought was the result of anger from several emotional triggers going off simultaneously. So I decided against it. Because when I'm angry? I can be cruel.

Instead I leave you with this.


Tuesday morning as I was heading out to work, I saw this. All I could think was, "They just cleaned the pool yesterday. Please don't get in."


Yesterday morning he had company.

I worry about what I'll see this morning.

Still here

Sort of. Let's see if I can remember the highlights.

I have to be officially out of my old apartment by the end of this week. The last week has been filled with getting the rest of my stuff out of there and cleaning. At least half of the remaining stuff went to the dumpster or curbside donations. I'm still at it.

In between I was doing some knitting. Unfortunately it is now on hold until the apartment is finished. A shame really. I probably need only one more evening to complete the project.

Last Friday I started the 30 Day Shred. (It's a workout DVD.) One of my friends asked me on Facebook why I was working out since I was already thin. The answer is because I am horribly out of shape. I confirmed that this evening. Decided to get all kinds of obsessive and bought a scale. A fancy one that tracks your weight and calculates your body fat percentage. That last number was really depressing -- and scary. So I'll be sticking to the 30 Day Shred.

Sunday I did not do the Shred though. After seeing that number, perhaps I should have. But I figured that after dancing for a few hours on Saturday night and then spending at least five hours packing and cleaning at the old place, I had had more than enough exercise.

And packing/cleaning on Sunday was loads of fun since I was sleep-deprived. I only got four hours of sleep Saturday night. OK. It was really Sunday morning. I received a wake-up call from my mother at 9 AM. She was mad because I hadn't called her yet to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. I was going to. When I woke up on my own. Probably a couple of hours later. Today I realized that she's a bit stir crazy in Mexico because there's been nothing to do for at least a couple of weeks. But do I really need to be sucked into her crazy?

Oh, and some of you have probably done the math. Four hours sleep. Awake at 9 AM. "Hmmmm. What the hell were you doing up until 5?" I told you I was dancing. At a party hosted by a firefighter I know. Firefighters throw some of the best parties. I left the party at 3. And then I was on the phone for over an hour with the guy I met at the party once I got home. He's not a firefighter; his brother is. And no, I do not have any photos of said party.

And yeah, I still have that number stuck in my head. I'm thinking I might have to start using the DVD both before and after work instead of just first thing in the morning.

Old habits

Tonight I had to head into Berkeley after work. I had been planning to do some more cleaning. And then the building owner called me yesterday because he wanted to do a quick walk-through to see if there were any repairs necessary before he rented it out to the next tenant. Good news is that the only thing about which he had concern were a couple of stains on the carpet. I told him that I was going to attempt to get them out before vacating. And then he told me how much he plans to rent the apartment for -- $500 more than what I had been paying. Gotta love the rent control.

Not much cleaning actually happened. Mainly because there has not been a garbage pickup since I was there on Sunday. Silly me forgot that there won't be a pickup until tomorrow. And then I kept running into old neighbors who wanted to chat. I'll miss them all.

When I finally headed out, it was 7:30. And that meant that Poulet was still open. But they were sold out of roasted chickens. So I settled on the chicken breast stuffed with asparagus. And my fave college student was working the counter. We chatted about my move. And because they were closing soon, he let me have the two remaining chicken breasts at two for one. And there was carrot cake. I think I'm going to have to go back at least once a month for a visit.

Back to the usual programming

So last week besides the crab cakes, I finally got around to making lime mint sorbet. It wasn't bad but next time I'll probably use more mint. I'm thinking that sometime next month I'm going to need to head out to Brentwood since cherry season usually starts in June.


I also changed my hair color this weekend. My usual photographer was unavailable so I to attempt a self-portrait.

Confession is good for the soul

Yes, I have been busy with the whole moving thing. Until this morning, I had not unpacked a single thing since last Saturday. It's all about the early move thing. The stuff in the boxes? Not necessary for everyday survival. But today I started unpacking more stuff because I knew that I had to head back to Berkeley -- mostly for cleaning but I also knew that there were still some things there that I wanted. No way possible that I would bring more stuff in without unpacking some of the other stuff.

And this week there were two more deaths. My stepbrother's father died on Wednesday. My heart goes out to him. His brother was killed 20 years ago. (Sheesh. It can't have been that long ago. Where did the time go?) Then his mother died just this past November. And now his dad.

The second death was also on Wednesday -- the girlfriend of my "little brother." (My little brother is the youngest son of my "real parents." I started babysitting him when he was six months old. My freshman year of college he would come to my mom's house and ask where I was.) I liked her a lot. Because she wasn't a skank like the other girls he had dated. And we shared a first name. I haven't heard the final autopsy findings but apparently it was an aneurysm. She was 29. *SIGH* Have I mentioned how I'm so done with this death thing?

Sometimes I wonder if it's some kind of butterfly effect thing going on. I finally decide that I really want to stick around and the people around me start to drop off. It feels like life's cruel joke. The Summer of Death has become the Year of Death.

But this isn't the real confession. It's the post that I wrote on that other blog but never posted. There was that meme that went around that I posted. And some folks never understood why I said "yes" to being arrested. Now I'm going to explain.

I used to party hard. I hated my life and did not care about the consequences. Heck. I would drive down the road in broad daylight and would have a quick flash in my mind about what it would be like if I was to plow my car into the median. I just didn't care. It was the same energy that would make me think ,"Drink until you're almost sick and then make yourself puke it all back up. And then start again." And my fave bar back then had a bed in their storeroom. Sometimes I'd take a quick nap and then return to the party. And I'd stay out til 5, 6 in the morning. Except for that night hanging with the rugby players from Australia when I left for home at 10 a.m.

In those days I lived about 20 miles away. It was bound to happen. One of those early mornings, I got pulled by the cops. At my exit. He didn't have a breathylizer in his car. And I had failed the field sobriety. (Truth is I can barely pass it sober.) And he hadn't wanted me to get out of the car. Because I was barefoot -- how I usually drive -- and wearing skirt. And it was winter. (One of the benefits of being considered pretty.) By the time the car with the machine was pulling up, I had convinced the cop to let me head off home since it was no more than a mile away.

A few years later I wasn't as lucky. I should have stayed at the bar. Instead I headed out. Because the bartender -- to whom I was not attracted -- was hitting on me once more. And part of my brain told me to get the hell out of there. And that's how I found myself being pulled over by the cops just a couple of exits short of home. And I remember thinking, "Crap. Why did I stay on the freeway?" Because back then I would hit streets as soon as I crossed the bridge. And I failed all the tests. And found myself crying and in handcuffs. But the cops felt for me. On the way to the police station, they let me ride in the front seat. The second cop rode in the back. And I spent the night in jail. Because I was too ashamed to call anyone. In the morning after my release, I walked back to my car. A month later at my court date, I pled no contest. And over the next six months I paid off my $1500 court fine. And paid the $500 to attend the court-mandated classes. And another $100 or so to remove the restriction from my license after the class. Oh, and there was that day of community service in lieu of a second day in jail.

Now I live with the higher insurance fees -- that will hopefully drop at the end of this year as the seven years will have passed by then. And having to explain my arrest on job applications.

And this is why I say that I am a former partygirl. Because the person before all this crap went down? I'm just a pale shadow of that person now. Because I understand the consequences of behaving otherwise.

Oh, and on a happier note. I have been getting all kinds of crafty lately. It's helped me to find balance in the midst of all the crazy. (Actually there's more I haven't mentioned here. Believe it or not.) And so I hope to share it all in the coming days.

I like silver

Let's Call You a Silver Digger

You don't weigh a man's appeal only on his income But you've never been known to turn down a free dinner Does this make you sleazy? Not at all! Just make sure not to miss out on your dream guy... Income brackets can change :-)

Are You A Gold Diggin' Woman?

Oh and happy May Day -- and Beltaine.