Signature Shari

If a Tree Falls in the Forest...

2010-01-14T21:26:00.000-08:00

I was on a flight recently (shocker, I know) and as I tucked my Kindle away in its bright orange neoprene sleeve while we prepared to land, the guy sitting next to me asked, “So, how do you like your Kindle?” (Another side benefit of the device – it’s an instant conversation starter.) Normally, I immediately say “I love it!” without hesitation, but for some reason, I turned to this poor, unsuspecting soul and said “Here’s the thing about the Kindle: it creates a sort of existential crisis for me every time I finish a book.”

I’m sure that he immediately wished he could roll back the clock about 35 seconds and seriously reconsider the decision that prompted him to engage me in conversation. Who is this wacky chick who doesn’t even get the basics of a classic “small talk” conversation??

I could have stuck with the pat answer I’ve given numerous times before (and it would be no less true – I really DO love it), but unlucky for this guy, I’d actually been giving this a little bit of thought lately.

As I’ve previously noted, I love books. LOVE books. And while I love books because of what’s in them (natch), I also really love the books themselves. I like the look of a full bookshelf and I get a warm feeling of satisfaction when I add a recently completed volume to that collection. It’s information, it’s entertainment, it’s décor, and it’s a little peak into the reader’s mind and soul. Talk about conversation starters.

So, I admit that in spite of (re)kindling my love for the printed word in yet another format, I’m still a sucker for the traditional page-turning variety. (As an aside, will particularly engaging books now be described as “it’s a real thumb-clicker”? Yikes.)

I’ve noticed that when I finish a book on the Kindle, I have a moment of uncertainty that I’d even read the book at all. That perhaps I’d just quickly skimmed a random, disposable magazine article or that I had a dream that is now only coming back to me in fuzzy, disconnected bits and pieces… It’s a bit disconcerting to say the least. What I’ve taken for granted in the past is that I do create a set of associations of sorts with the book itself. I see the cover, and it immediately evokes memories of not only the content within, but also of the circumstances under which I consumed that particular book. Now, when I’ve completed something on the Kindle, I get the distinct sense that it’s not really real. That I didn’t really just read it. That the book doesn’t even really exist because it’s not on my shelf with everything else I’ve recently read.

Hence, my existential struggle with my new found love… If a book is finished on a Kindle, but no one is around to see it, does it make an impression?

Wii Are Fit! (Well, Wii Hope To Be Soon!)

2010-01-07T20:47:00.000-08:00

I would love to love to work out. Really, I would. It’s not that I don’t like it, but I just don’t love it. I kind of get bored at the gym, I don’t really like to run (I have bad knees and a worse attitude), and in the past couple of years, I haven’t been stationary long enough to commit to taking any sort of regular class. (Side note: The last class I did take was kickboxing and I highly recommend it, both for the exercise and the exorcise after a particularly bad day!)

Special K is super athletic, having played pretty much every sport in the book and he is endlessly patient with me as we drag our big white pail of tennis balls to the court and I exclaim “home run!” as I belt yet another ball clear over the fence and into the street.

In an extremely inspired move (and probably somewhat motivated by the ballooning tennis ball budget), Special K slid a Wii console and Wii Fit under our Christmas tree this year and I am pretty excited about the possibilities! This seems an appropriate way to tackle fitness challenges in the 21st century!

I have wanted to do yoga for a while now both for the physical AND mental health (sensing a theme here?) benefits, but I am about as flexible as 2x4 and I was never quite sure where to start. The Wii has solved my dilemma, providing me with a very nice and supportive virtual trainer who walks me through the poses and with the help of the Wii balance board, I am gaining a pretty decent sense about the right way to execute said poses.

As supportive as the Wii aims to be, it still has the somewhat eerily human quality of not being able to resist a jab every now and then. When I missed one day of “working out”, the Wii snidely remarked “couldn’t find time to work out yesterday, huh?” As I’m settling my feet on the board, looking for the right position, the Wii sighs (I swear it does!!) and says “Are you fidgeting?”

So far, with my limited experience, I’m pretty impressed. I definitely felt the results of my “work out” in my muscles the next day and I feel like I’m already improving my balance and posture. Although, I’ve been back in NoCal all week and I can only imagine what the Wii will have to say to me when I finally return to it.

But I have set myself a mini-goal to track against (the Wii measures your weight and BMI as well), so wish Mii luck!

Words to Live By for a New Decade

2010-01-01T16:20:00.000-08:00

2009 was a good year. A great year, actually. I married the man of my dreams, made new friends and deepened existing relationships, explored and enjoyed yet another new home (this time in Northern California), and had a major impact on the development and success of a still young internet company. But in spite of all this, I still let many things slide, especially during the second half of the year (as you can tell from the fact that my last blog post was from way back in August). By the time fall rolled around, I’d lost much of the balance in my life, not doing much more than working, eating (too much) and sleeping (not enough).

I've never been one to make New Year's resolutions per se because I've always believed that you can make a positive change in your life at any time, on any day of the year. But since 2009 ended on a rather unbalanced note for me and since an entirely new decade has just kicked off, I figured it couldn't hurt to remind myself of a few key philosophies that are good words to live by. Maybe you'll find something helpful in here, too:

Be here now.

Let go and move on.

If it was easy, everyone would be doing it.

Do what you love, love what you do.

Life is too short to see bad movies. (Full disclosure: I adopted this one from Special K.)

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give. (Credit for this one goes to Sir Winston Churchill.)

It's never too late to be the person you might have been. (George Eliot)

To thine own self be true. (Thank you, Polonius.)

And finally, one key question to keep in mind:

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

Happy 2010! Here's to a year (and an entire decade) of happiness, health, adventure, surprises, love and laughter.

Please Don't Go

2009-08-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

A magazine (that shall remain nameless, but note that it is not one of the titles published by the media company for whom I work) keeps sending me emails saying "Shari, we want you back!"

On its own, it's quite a flattering statement (especially with the emphatic exclamation point adding just that extra bit of well, emphasis about how much they want me back) and when I opened up the email, the line that immediately jumped out at me (because it was bolded) was "we want another chance".

What woman doesn't have at least one young man in her past whom she wished would have sent an email, text message, card, or letter by carrier pigeon with those words emotionally scrawled across the page (or screen)? And I think that's exactly the sentiment that our little periodical friends are trying to tap into. What better feeling than having the upper hand, even if just for a few moments, to fold your arms across your chest, scrunitize the suitor and make him sweat while you contemplate (for real or just for show) his worthiness.

The only flaw in their logic is the one teeny, tiny detail that they never had me in the first place. That's right, I've never even had a subscription to this particular publication. So how can they "want me back"? How can I give them another chance when I'd never even given them a first one?

And why would I want to be with somebody who clearly has me confused with someone else?

An Evening with the Masters

2009-08-17T22:11:00.001-07:00

This past Saturday night, Special K and went to see the renowned Pageant of the Masters in Laguna Beach (thanks, LLW, for the tickets!!). The Pageant bills itself as a place "where art comes to life" and this couldn't be further from the truth.

The show is a series of "tableaux vivants" (or living pictures) each representing a distinct piece of art such as a well-known painting or sculpture. This summer, the theme was "The Muse", a tribute to those forces, places and individuals who inspire an artist to create his best, most moving work.

If you have never seen the Pageant, I highly recommend it -- it really is unlike anything you've ever experienced. Actual cast members recreate each and every work of art -- the paintings and sculptures in the show all feature real people, in makeup and costume, holding stock still for up to a couple of minutes at a time while the narrator weaves an interesting and engaging story about what you're currently seeing on stage.

It's so hard to explain, but you will be absolutely awed. At one point about 20 minutes into the show, they bring up the house lights and actually deconstruct how the tableaux are put together. Even when you see this, you still cannot fathom how realistic each piece looks when presented to the audience -- a real testament to the power of lighting.

Add The Pageant of the Masters to your "must-see" list the next time a summer trip brings you to Orange County. And don't forget to take in any (or all) of the three art festivals happening at the same time!

The Future of Comfort Food

2009-08-13T22:41:00.001-07:00

A few months ago, I wrote a post describing how books are my mashed potatoes, my mac & cheese, my triple chocolate layered upside down cake (wha?)... in short, they are my comfort food. I have loved to read since I, well, learned to read. I belonged to my first book club before I even started elementary school. One constant in my life is that I can always lose myself in a bookstore and it's hard for me to visit one (or Target or Costco) and not leave with arms full of books and a big smile on my face. The launch of Amazon.com was a nearly orgasmic experience. ("You mean I can have books delivered directly to me with one-click??")

Well, comfort food has just been taken to the next level!

My wonderful husband surprised me with the new Amazon Kindle for my birthday and while I was initially skeptical about the whole electronic reader thing, I am happy to report that I am now completely sold. The device is gorgeous - so sleek, slim and lightweight. The reading experience is much better than I would have expected and I LOVE the built-in dictionary feature where you can hover over a word and immediately see its definition at the bottom of the "page".

I downloaded two full novels in about one minute and I devoured both of those books within about one week. The Kindle is perfect for a travel-heavy schedule because it's so easy to pack and it can literally be dozens of books in one. (Knowing my addiction to the printed word, you will understand how happy this makes me!)

The only slight downside is that the e-books are still rather spendy, with many coming in around the $10 mark. Hmmmm... a little hard to stomach when there isn't a physical item that will find its way to my already-full bookshelf for the rest of its foreseeable existence.

And now, when I read in bed at night before lights out, Special K giggles every time I "click" to turn a page... which is about every 30 seconds. Hey, he enabled my addiction in the first place. And I love him for it!

Stark Raving Mad!

2009-08-07T14:17:00.003-07:00

I posted this on my Kaboodle blog as well (and on Facebook), so apologies if you've seen this already!

Per my earlier admission of my obsession with Mad Men (just scroll down the page if you haven't read that entry already), I have now entered AMC's Mad Men Casting Call contest for a chance to win a walk-on role on the show (and the $1000 gift card for Banana Republic wouldn't be so bad either!)

The semi-finalists are chosen by how many votes they get, so go ahead and click through and give me a bit of love -- the contest (and voting) ends on August 11.

And I promise I will stop talking SOOOOO much about the endlessly interesting folks at Sterling Cooper.

(Don't forget -- new season starts on August 16!)

Hide and Sikh

2009-08-07T14:17:00.001-07:00

In early 2008, California was the latest state to pass legislation that prohibits the use of cell phones in cars -- you're now only allowed to chat if you can operate the phone in a hands-free manner. I generally don't like earpieces, so I'm fortunate because I can actually program my phone to work through the speakers inside my car. (Fair warning: if you call me when I'm driving, you'll be on speaker phone!)

Even though this law was widely publicized before it was enacted and even though it was admended early in 2009 to also ban text messaging while driving, it's still common to see people trying to sneak in a quick conversation, phones held to their ears, old-school style.

On Thursday evening, Special K and I were in a cab, headed for the San Jose airport when he pointed out two other drivers on the 101 freeway who were openly and shamelessy gabbing away on their cell phones, without using any sort of hands-free device.

Then our cab driver's cell phone rang. I was seated directly behind him and couldn't really see what was happening, but soon, Special K started to chuckle and asked me in a low voice, "Do you see what's going on up there?" I couldn't, but just assumed that our driver was probably also breaking the law.

When we arrived at the airport, Special K told me what he had actually seen. Our driver was Indian and was wearing the full beard and iconic turban of his Sikh religion. And very cleverly, when he answered his phone, he simply tucked the device under the edge of the snugly wound fabric next to his ear, leaving him completely free to have both hands on the wheel while he chatted animatedly with whoever was on the other line.

Brilliant. I predict a whole new line of cell phone accessories coming to market!

Mad About, Well.... Men

2009-07-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

And who wouldn't be??

I openly admit it -- I'm obsessed with the AMC darling "Mad Men", the series that chronicles the personal and professional trials and tribulations of a group of advertising men (and women) on Madison Avenue during the 1950's and 60's.

And don't think for a moment that my dedication to this TV show is because of any little (and I mean tiny), completely harmless (silly, really), itsy-bitsy crush on leading man Don Draper. I mean, come on -- I've been in advertising and publishing myself now for a number of years, so my interest in the show and in Mr. Draper is strictly professional. It's really much more like a history lesson. Truly.

So, when Sarah forwarded a link to "Mad Men Yourself", I was all over it like a dirty martini. Yes, it's true, you can now create your very own Mad Men avatar and even insert him/her into scenes reminiscent of the show. If you're a Mad fan, this is a brilliant diversion -- I've already spent WAY too much time defining the 1962 version of me.

Look out Don Draper -- there's a new mad woman in town!

Keep it Down Up There!

2009-07-26T16:26:00.001-07:00

Many of you know that in my NoCal apartment, I live on the ground floor. The major pro is that I have a huge patio and I don't have to cart my luggage up and down the stairs every time I travel (which, as you also know, is frequently). The major con is that within the last couple of months, a new family of grizzly bears has moved in directly above me. Seriously - the noise that comes from this unit is unreal. And it's not even like they're having rowdy parties or anything -- they're just simply noisy. Every seemingly normal, mundane action (like walking down the hall) is amplified about 1000 times to the point where my walls reverberate, my doors rattle in their frames and my books shimmy on their shelves. And it happens continuously. (Don't these people ever just sit down??)

It's gotten to the point now where I am just downright curious about what's going on up there because there is no way that people make this much noise just going about their normal day-to-day tasks.

Here are my best guests:

They have opened a gym in order to make some extra cash and I'm the only one of my neighbours who isn't up there, heaving around weights and medicine balls.
The San Francisco 49er's have relocated their existing Santa Clara practice facility.
There are ongoing African dance (and drum circle!) lessons and events going on ... all with admittedly terrible rhythm.
Hippo racing has finally caught on.
They just bought an interest in a winery, the only catch being that they actually have to stomp the grapes themselves -- old school!
Mickey Rourke is holding classes and demonstrations on wrestling moves in order to make some cash just in case this "comeback" thing doesn't quite pan out.
The UFC, WWF, MMA and any other acronym that basically stands for "way too much testosterone (and steroids)" has set up new headquarters.

Honestly, I think I'm going to start leaving DVD's of VERY long mini-series and movies on their front door step just to see if I can get them to be still for a couple of hours.

iPhone Speak Revisited

2009-07-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I posted about my iPhone's handy auto-correct feature and its tendency to turn my text messages, emails and Twitter posts into a sort of semi-familiar code language that uses real words, but puts them in a completely bizarre context.

Well, it's still up to its old tricks, plus a few new ones which I thought I'd share:

It turns "oink oink" into "pink pink", as in "I just ate way too much! Pink, pink!" (I think even Webster recognizes "oink" -- why is Apple such a snob about it?)

It edits "hee hee" into "her her".... (Her who? and why are you being so emphatic about it??")

And it STILL has not adopted "whoo hoo" into its repetoire, but has moved on from interesting substitutions like "shoe goo" and now repeatedly serves up "whip hop".

Now, "whip hop" actually sounds like it could be an exclamation of happiness, excitement or triumph. Try it on for size: "I just closed a huge 7-figure deal! Whip hop!" or "These Jimmy Choo's are 90% off! Whip hop!"

Too bad the URL is already taken by a wallpaper company. ("Let's decorate the walls! Whip hop!!")

Rekindling a an Old Love Affair

2009-07-17T14:49:00.000-07:00

When I'm away from New York for a while, I start to forget all the reasons why I adore that city so much. But being back in the hustle and bustle for a few days quickly reminds me what I'm missing (and also why I couldn't sustain the lifestyle for very long without either having a heart attack, going broke, or both).

This past trip coincided with Restaurant Week and while NYC is always home to lots of great eats, Restaurant Week usually encourages chefs to include new items on the week's special menu and to bundle items into a prix fixe structure that is often a pretty good deal.

I was lucky enough to dine at a number of fantastic restaurants on this trip:

-- Sakagura: A Japanese eatery and sake bar hidden away in the basement of a midtown office building. Excellent menu of mostly non-sushi items (loved the fluke and the mashed potatoes coated in donut batter (yes!) in particular) and a sake list boasting over 200 varieties. (Finally, some sake that I actually liked!)

-- Blue Ribbon Brasserie: Located on Sullivan street in SoHo, this is a member of the family of restaurants that also boasts Blue Ribbon Sushi. Very small and quaint place, with a menu of both American and international items, all with a bit of an eclectic twist. Erika and I split paella and salmon dishes and both were excellent.

-- Quality Meats: Another midtown classic, I've been before for dinner, but had lunch there this time instead. Sacrilege I know, but I opted for a salad instead of steak because I'd had two big, rich meals the two nights prior and my body was screaming for something simple and ideally, vegetarian. The Restaurant Week menu did boast sorbet, however, so I definitely had to partake in that. Kate and I both ordered the Orange Creamsicle Dream and it came in a perfect little take-away container as if they already knew we wouldn't be able to finish the whole thing.

-- Hudson Cafeteria: I've also been here before and the food has been good (not great), but it is a kind of fun place to hang out with some friends, so this was my Friday night outing. I ordered lobster mac & cheese and could not finish it (even with the help of four friends) because it was so rich. Everyone actually really enjoyed their meals, but the fact that we had to send our bill back three times because they had over-charged us for drinks kind of put a damper on the experience.

-- 11 Madison Park: Just one word: heaven. This has got to be the absolute best dining experience I've ever had. From the servers who seemingly pop out of nowhere to help you out of your chair when you get up to the elegant decor to the perfectly choreographed delivery of every single course, this is what all "dining out" should aspire to. Aside from the items that we actually ordered, chef Daniel Humm also sent us a number of amuse-bouche treats throughout the evening, a bottle of Cognac at the end of the meal and sent the ladies home with a tiny box of sugared fruit candies.

It was a few days chock-full of fantastic restaurant experiences, but I had to come home and detox with salads, water and plain old grilled chicken. Coincidentally, during the trip I was reading Ruth Riechl's book "Garlic and Sapphires" which chronicles her tenure as the food critic at The New York Times and I just can't imagine how anyone in her role is able to eat that much [rich food] that often and not be a walking advert for Lipitor.

After just five days, I was saying "poke a fork in me, I'm done!" (But I'll definitely be back for more!)

Bad (aka Stupid) Things Happen in Three's

2009-07-14T20:23:00.000-07:00

I am not a clumsy person. Honestly. But if you'd been following me around with a hidden camera today, you would have thought that I was Inspector Clouseau's next of kin.

Stupid thing #1 happened on my bright and early flight to New York City. And actually, it wasn't even because of anything that I did, but lookers-on thought for sure that I was the culprit, based on their pursed lips and disapproving glances. I was in an aisle seat and when my neighbour in the middle seat (very nice lady, but had a lot going on with her backpack, all sorts of food, beverages etc) asked if she could get up because she wasn't feeling very well, I immediately hopped up to make way. As she attempted to shift her bag, food and beverages, she very neatly dumped a full glass of water squarely on my seat. (This is the one time when the optimist actually wishes for a half empty glass.) Since the flight was full, I couldn't switch seats, so was resigned to mopping up as much as I could and then folding up a blanket and sitting on that for the remaining three and a half hours of the journey. As an upside, I did make friends with my seat mate upon her return and we're now connected on random social networks.

Stupid thing #2 happened within about 15 minutes of me arriving at my hotel, and again, wasn't strictly anything that I did, but I sure got the payback for something! As I was getting ready to meet my team for dinner, I noticed that the toilet had still not yet stopped running from when I had flushed it a few minutes before. I immediately opted for a very complex, sophisticated solution and tried jiggling the handle. No dice. I've "fixed" toilets before when the little chain has just gotten caught inside, not allowing the water valve to seal, so I figured I would probably be able to do the same here. When I lifted the lid from the tank, however, I was greeted by a loose hose that had popped out of one of the pipes and was now waving wildly from side to side, spraying water all over me and the bathroom. Trying to use the tank lid as a shield (a very small, ineffectual one), I managed to wrestle the hose back into the pipe and jam the lid back into place. And then I had to completely change my outfit before heading out to dinner.

I'd like to say that Stupid thing #3 was also not really directly my fault, but unfortunately, there's no way around this one. At dinner that night (at a very hip Japanese restaurant), I was regaling my colleagues with my stories of the day and one of them laughingly moved all the water glasses away from in front of me, lest I knock them all over in the spirit of the events of the preceding 10 or so hours. But no matter, with one dramatic wave of the hand, I managed to completely upend the little jar of house-made soy sauce and spill it all over the table.

More disapproving looks, this time from our server, and I thought I'd try to lighten the mood with a french accented "Monsieur, don't try to be funnayy with me!" but I didn't think she'd appreciate it.

I Do, I Do, I Do

2009-07-08T18:24:00.001-07:00

As many of you know, Special K and I have been a fairly non-traditional couple for most of the time we've been together. We've done the long-distance thing between LA and NY and then between NoCal and SoCal (the latter being MUCH better and easier to manage -- duh!). In fact, we've been living in different zip codes (and often different time zones) for longer than we've actually been in the same place.

We carried on this tradition of NON-tradition in our decision to get married, planning the wedding in only about four weeks. That's right, FOUR weeks. (And can I just say that this is DEFINITELY the way to go... A short "engagement" means much less stress and it really keeps you focused on what's truly important... you know, like the fabric you should use for the custom-made napkins that you want at dinner.)

From the words "of course I'll marry you, silly!", we both knew that we didn't want a big, formal traditional wedding. We're casual, fun (well, at least he is), and yes, often quite silly, and we wanted our Big Day to reflect who we really are and how we got that way. (Could have been dangerous, I know!)

So, here are a few things we did to make the day extra meaningful to us. First and foremost, our very dear, dear friends, Craig and Dannie offered up their home as the location for the wedding. Craig and Dannie are my "American family" and to have our wedding at their beautiful home created so many wonderful memories that we'll cherish forever. And every time we go back to visit, we'll get goosebumps all over again!

My dress and shoes were pretty simple (ordered online!) and while I wasn't worried about the "something old, something new" thing, I did want to wear something that had a bit of history, so I borrowed a gorgeous necklace from my mom... that my dad had given to her. It was perfect.

Our caterer was absolutely marvelous and helped us create an eclectic menu with an international flair to reflect our individual backgrounds. During the cocktail hour and for dinner, we had a delicious melange of dishes including samosas (in honor of my Indian heritage), brisket (all hail Alberta AND Texas!), pizza with exotic mushrooms and truffle oil (just because we are both always on a quest for good pizza!) and an artisanal cheese display that was to die for. (I adore cheese... maybe even just as much as chocolate.)

For dessert, we busted out the chocolate pudding in memory of Special K's wonderful Dad and we decided to forego the wedding cake in favor of cupcakes. This was a brilliant decision on our part (if I do say so myself) because the cupcakes were incredible and our fabulous caterer surprised us with some very fun decorations!

As for drinks, we kept the selection to mostly beer, wine and champagne. The wine was all from California-based wineries and the beer was a combination of Iron City (and Iron City Light) from Pittsburgh and Molson Canadian. ("I AM Canadian!!")

On the music front, Special K and I spent a fun Saturday evening a couple of weeks before the wedding perusing through CD's and iTunes libraries to create our musical line-up for the evening. The final playlist included Indian music, Irish music, lots of well-known (and not so well-known American artists), a few rockin' Canadians thrown in for good measure, and of course, a couple of Special K originals!

We sent our guests home with a little gift bag of random tongue-in-cheek goodies including a tiny bottle of Heinz ketchup (yay Pittsburgh!), a lapel pin with the Canadian and American flags joined in unity, a foil-wrapped chocolate maple leaf and a variety of Canadian chocolate bars that you can't buy here in the states. (The chocolate was imported directly from Canada via my mom and dad's suitcases a couple of days before the wedding.)

And finally, in honor of my honorary status as a "greencard bride", you will note that the use of green on the gift bags and floral arrangements was NOT a coincidence. Nor were the green socks that Joe and Linda gave me that night.

Count Me In!

2009-06-30T23:43:00.001-07:00

The government is after me. (No, not like THAT -- I'm transitioning from legit visa holder to legit greencard holder as we speak!) The government is after me to fill out a 28 page form that I believe is technically for the census, but it's actually cleverly called "The American Community Survey" -- cozy, huh?

Truth be told, I actually don't mind filling out forms like this. Having once been a census-taker for a summer job in Canada (funny stories there for another time), I definitely empathize with how difficult it is to get people to complete these forms. Also, having a background in business/marketing/strategy, I understand the value of survey data and how it can be used to help make important decisions.

(And mostly, since I'm not a citizen and don't get to vote, I figure this is the closest I'll get to having some input on things for a while!)

The Census Bureau sent me a nice letter a couple of weeks ago informing me that I would soon be receiving a package in the mail and that it was very important that I answer the questions and send back the survey in a timely manner. Then as promised, a few days later, the survey package arrived in the mail. (The government actually keeping its word? Alert the press!) And now they are peppering me with little post cards, reminding me to fill out the survey and please send it back promptly. (Someone paid attention in Communications 101 class when the professor outlined the key rules in communicating: "Tell them what you're going to tell them; then tell them; then tell them what you told them.")

So, I've completed the survey and I will do my duty as a (nearly) permanent resident of the United States (who still can't vote, but who can pay taxes like she's the government's petty cash account) and I will send it back tomorrow.

But before I do, I had to share a few questions that I wish had the option of a write-in answer instead of just the "yes" and "no" boxes:

-- Because of a physical, mental or emotional condition, does this person have serious difficulty concentrating, remembering or making decisions?

I'm sorry, what was the question again?

-- Does this person have serious difficulty walking or climbing stairs?

Why do you think I live on the first floor?? And I must not, under any circumstance, be allowed to chew gum while attempting either of these two activities.

-- Does this person have difficulty dressing or bathing?

Bathing -- once a fortnight whether I need it or not. (Is soap a requirement?)
Dressing -- I'm going through an "inside out" phase right now, but no one gets close enough to really realize it due to the "bathing" point above.

John heeft een foto van jou getagd op Facebook

2009-06-29T21:24:00.000-07:00

Imagine how perplexed I was to see dozens of these kinds of messages in my email inbox when I logged in at an internet cafe in Dublin a couple of weeks ago. At first I thought it was some aggressive spam, but then it dawned on me... it was Dutch! Yes, a language that I speak absolutely NONE of, but the names referenced in the subject lines were names of real friends on Facebook, and words like "foto" lent some credibility to the fact that these were, in fact, bona fide emails.

About 6 days earlier, Special K and I had been in Amsterdam, waiting for our connection to Dublin. Because we had a few hours to kill, we installed ourselves in the KLM lounge and lo and behold if there wasn't free internet access.

We both checked our email, and I updated both Facebook and Twitter.

And because of the 4 hours I was in the Netherlands, Facebook decided that I was most probably fluent in Dutch by then and that I would be happiest with my entire Facebook profile in Dutch as well. Never mind that I've been using Facebook in ENGLISH for the past two and a half years.

In any event, I did manage to get everything switched back to English, but not without canvasing the internet cafe with the question "Does anyone know how to say 'preferences' in Dutch???"

Expansion in the Blogosphere!

2009-06-28T09:19:00.000-07:00

I told you I was back to blogging! Well, not only am I aiming to keep this blog regularly updated, but I've also (finally) launched another blog at Kaboodle, the awesome social shopping site where I work.

Since Kaboodle is all about shopping, my Kaboodle blog is mostly product and shopping focused. We have a really fun area called "What I'm Wearing Today", so I'm also trying to post the occasional entry there.

Check it out here. Happy Kaboodling!

Mawwied?? Yes, Mawwied!!

2009-06-24T22:53:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned, on June 6 Special K and I pledged we'd love each other for eternity (or at least until football season starts -- just kidding, you can't really be a "football widow" when you love it, too!) The wedding was hosted at the lovely home of our very dear friends, Craig and Dannie, in Encinitas, CA. We had a very small, intimate ceremony and dinner with our families and a few friends -- the day was absolutely perfect and a couple of days later, we were off to Ireland for our honeymoon. Spectacular.

Now, I know this is kind of cheating, but Special K wrote a great email to our wedding guests to recap some of the highlights of the day and of our trip to the Emerald Isle. So, I hereby annoint Special K as my guest blogger and invite you to enjoy his marvelous way with words and sense of humour. (I just may turn the whole blog over to him!)

Here goes:

“Hey, we just flew in from Dublin and – boy - our arms are tired!”
(bah-dah-bing!)

Wanted to send one final note to our wedding posse and share some quick post-ceremony behind the scenes tid-bits and honeymoon highlights:

Betcha didn’t know that Shari’s Dad and Craig had to make two runs to the store to pick up some ice minutes before the party bus pulled into the circular driveway!

Father Peter is actually the Bishop of California’s Catholic Ecumenical Church – and no, he is not one of the co-stars of the current box office hit “The Hangover.”

Pittsburgh Johnny was warming up in the bullpen with his Internet-certified minister certificate in case Father Peter got stuck on the 5 freeway.

In a close vote, Aunt Kathy’s cookies edged out the custom cupcakes and pudding to win the “best dessert” award.

Cincy Bob had a beautiful speech prepared about the bride and groom but was wise enough to recognize that NO ONE – not even Elvis-back-from-the-grave! - could follow Shari’s “red nose” improvisation.

Special thanks to Craig and Dannie McLaughlin for opening their home to us for our special night! As Aunt Audrey said, “This is like one of those places you see on those fancy home and garden cable TV shows!”

IRELAND Honeymoon facts:

Over / under on how long it takes an Irishman to praise Obama as “the second coming”: 47 seconds.

Would you believe: There are more cabs in Dublin than NYC! (look it up!)

What is on TV in Ireland as the Penguins were hoisting the Stanley Cup and the Lakers winning the NBA Championship?...Hurling! (seriously…)

Special K scorecard from piloting a right-hand-drive Hyundai across Ireland?
-1 popped curb speeding thru a roundabout
-2 pissed-off Irishmen from driving head-on into the wrong lane
-3 attempts to enter the car from the wrong side
-4 bruises on his left arm from his wife’s “encouragement” from the passenger seat
-5 maps used navigate across Ireland but – when we pulled back into Dublin we spent an hour trying to find our rental car return location – gave up – and paid $10 Euro to a cab driver to let us follow him there.

Average time the sun would set during our trip: 10pm!

Zero! (the number of clock radios found in our 6 different hotel rooms.)

True or False: The green card bride spent some time in jail during her honeymoon.

TRUE: http://www.kilmainham-gaol.com/

True or False: Special K enjoyed a Galway Hooker during his honeymoon!

TRUE! http://www.galwayhooker.ie/
(it’s a beer, people!)

Thanks again, everyone! And to those who have shared their photos, thank you & stand by – Shari will create “something” with the official wedding and honeymoon photos and forward a link.

Love & Laughs-
-K&S

Did Ya Miss Me??

2009-06-24T22:40:00.000-07:00

Didn't even know I was gone, did ya? Well, after an extremely prolonged absence, I am indeed back! Special K and I got hitched on Saturday, June 6 -- if you didn't know, we only set the date in May, so we were busy bees for most of May, juggling crazy work schedules, wedding planning and of course, HONEYMOON planning!

We just got back from our honeymoon in Ireland a few days ago, and now that we're back and life is back to its only semi-frenetic pace, consider Signature Shari officially resurrected!

Ah, it's good to be back!

Alive and Kicking!

2009-05-26T22:31:00.001-07:00

No, I haven't fallen off the edge of the earth... and no, I haven't run off and joined the circus (unless you're speaking about my day-to-day job).... and no, I haven't suddenly lost my interest in writing and forgotten how to type....

No, the reason for my absence is MUCH more exciting, wonderful and silly smile-inducing! Ready for the big news?

Special K and I have decided to make it official and tie the knot! We decided just a few short weeks ago and we are getting hitched in ten days. TEN DAYS. WHOOOOOO!!!

So, as you can appreciate, I've been quite occupied with planning fun details for our very small and intimate ceremony and wedding dinner.

I have definitely been missing my blog and I will aim to post a couple of updates between now and the big day, but I promise I'll get back on track once we are blissfully wed. (I get butterflies every time I think about it!)

It's Not Kidnapping if He Comes Along Willingly

2009-04-11T21:59:00.001-07:00

A while back, I introduced my team at work to Wahoo's, bringing a little slice of one of my fave SoCal institutions up here to the land of granola, Priuses and organic ... everything. It was an immediate hit with the girls and so we will occasionally make the trek (all 10 minutes of it) to Cupertino where the closest Wahoo's is located. (As an aside, I think Wahoo's makes the best quick-serve cheese enchiladas EVER.)

As we gathered our wallets and sunglasses, we polled the rest of the office to see if anyone else wanted to join us... but alas, no takers. Down in the parking lot, as I backed out of my spot, I spied our principal scientist coming out the front door of the office building and I rolled down the window, leaning across Jessica in the passenger seat to yell "Hey, Magnus! Get in the car!"

The girls giggled. And Magnus squinted to see who it was and then did come over and get in the car. (Brave guy!)

With our hijacked scientist in the backseat, we were off in pursuit of mexi-goods. When Magnus found out there would be fish tacos at our destination, he relaxed.

And yes, we brought him back safely, although in retrospect, I'm sure we could have commanded a pretty decent ransom.

The Opposite of Lent

2009-04-05T11:48:00.000-07:00

Big congratulations to all my wonderful Catholic friends who made commitments to give up certain habits, vices, food and various other things for Lent. I always find it fascinating to hear what folks have decided to forego for that 40 day period preceding Easter.

I know at least a couple of people who have committed to staying off Facebook for Lent. (Is that really a sacrifice?) One of my co-workers gave up shopping... but just for clothes and shoes. (What a glorious loophole allowing you to carve out your own Lenten parameters. Clothes and shoes may be off the list, but handbags and jewelry are totally fair game!) Another friend of mine gave up meat for all of Lent (not just on Fridays) a few years ago and she hasn't actually eaten meat since. Impressive!

This year, my former altar boy, Special K, gave up sweets for the holy fasting period. And he took it really seriously, not even having regular soda nor his regular morning mochaccino nor sugar in a cup of tea. In a moment of solidarity (or insanity), I actually thought, "You know, I'll give up sweets, too. It will be healthier, it will be supportive and it will be something we can do together!"

Yeah, that lasted about 6 hours.

What Special K accomplished in his pious efforts to make a meaningful sacrifice, I MORE than made up for on the other side. I went straight for gluttony, swinging around a full 180 degrees as if a meeting between Lent and my personal willpower was like trying to push together the North ends of two magnets. Not gonna happen.

They say timing is everything and it just so happened that during those 40 days at the office, we had cupcakes (multiple times, thanks to all the March/April birthdays), donuts, an ice cream social and pounds of chocolate and other goodies delivered from Costco. Not even a fair fight.

Now that Lent is over, however, I am back to yogurt, bananas, granola bars and carrot sticks.

Final score:
Lent: 40
Shari: 0 (but with a couple of darn good red velvet cupcakes!)

That ain't so bad!

I'm Sorry, But I Just Don't Care

2009-04-04T08:07:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one who thinks that the whole concept of "defensive indifference" in baseball is ridiculous? I just learned about this notion the other day when Special K and I were watching a game and as a runner stole a base, the announcer said that it wouldn't count in that player's stats and he noted "defensive indifference" as the reason.

Special K explained that if the defense (ie. the pitcher and the catcher) make no attempt to put the baserunner out, then that play is scored as "defensive indifference" and no stolen base is credited to the runner.

Excuse me?

Correct me if I'm wrong, but if the pitcher and the catcher aren't even paying attention, isn't that even more reason to credit a stolen base to the runner? Heck, if he can make that move without attracting the offense's attention, perhaps he should even get twice the credit. I don't know of any other sport where the defense can just sit back and say that a play or scoring doesn't count just simply because they weren't paying attention.

I wish I had known about that rule when playing sports in high school.

"Oh, that goal doesn't count because frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

Perhaps I'll adopt this philosophy in my day-to-day life now. Imagine:

In business (to my boss): "Oh, I'm sorry that I totally missed my revenue numbers this quarter. Since I wasn't even really paying attention to the business, I'm allowed to claim 'professional indifference.'"

To my friends: "Yeah, I'm sorry I missed your birthday, but because of "personal indifference", your birthday didn't even really exist for me."

To the cashier at the movie theatre: "I'm not planning to actually pay attention to the movie, so I shouldn't have to pay for my ticket. It's called "Hollywood indifference". Thanks for understanding."

Tourist in My Own Town -- Part III

2009-03-29T21:58:00.000-07:00

-- Sunday morning and we are up and at 'em for dim sum! We arranged to meet Chris and Sharon at a place in Millbrae where none of us had been before. With a name like "The Kitchen", we were skeptical about the dim sum part. "Sounds like Denny's", I remarked to Chrissy, but we headed out anyway, excited to see Chris and Sharon (whom we had randomly tracked down in Sevilla, Spain a couple of years earlier and whom Chrissy hadn't seen since).

-- (As an aside, it cracks me up that two pairs of friends named Shari and Chrissy... and Sharon and Chris are hanging out together. Confusing much?)

-- As it turned out, we needn't have worried about whether The Kitchen served dim sum or not. We walked into a huge open restaurant with zillions of tables and every single one of those tables filled with laughing, eating, chatting groups of people.

-- I smiled at the hostess and before I could even open my mouth to say "Hi, we're meeting some friends here", she quickly jerked her head to the left and said "Over there. Around corner."

-- Sure enough, there's Sharon and Chris, tucked away at a small table for four, hidden behind a wall and jammed into a corner. We look around and see that we are literally the only table of non-Asian diners. We laugh as it becomes crystal clear how the hostess immediately knew which table we belonged to.

-- The food was excellent and we ate way too much... When the bill came, Chris picked it up and said, it's $45. I handed her three twenties and she looked at me and laughed, "No, $45 for ALL of us!" Sweet! Given how much we ate, I couldn't believe this, but I wasn't going to argue.

-- The girls gave us some suggestions of what to do in the city that afternoon, so we jumped back in the car after dim sum and headed back to SF. Parking at the Civic Center Garage, we wandered through Hayes Valley and enjoyed all the small shops and the fun architecture.

-- We stopped at Blue Bottle Coffee since it had been highly recommended by our brunch mates and I had a hot cocoa while Chrissy had the real deal. Both were delicious. On to Miette (gorgeous sweets shop) where we were good and just window-shopped... no purchases!

-- Outside one store, we stopped to talk to a guy who was pulling a wagon with two Daschunds. As Chrissy photographed the two docile subjects, our buddy told us the story of how he rescued Vinnie and Guido (no joke) and explained how they get a sponge bath every morning and they either ride in the wagon, in the basket on his bicycle or in his old school Cadillac. Vinnie, Guido and their Dad were all execptionally sweet.

-- We then walked down to the Haight where I wanted to stop in at the cafe "Love 'n Haight", but I honestly couldn't come up with another excuse to eat yet again.

-- We headed home around 6:00, made pasta for dinner and then .... yep, you guessed it, went out for ice cream! (You thought we'd broken the Golden Rule, didn't ya?)

The next morning, I dropped Chrissy at the airport and we agreed to do another girls' weekend before too long... I wonder where our next destination will be....

Tourist in My Own Town -- Part II

2009-03-29T21:54:00.001-07:00

Today is the day for some exercise! (As if hiking up and down SF hills on Friday for 10 hours wasn't a decent calorie-burner.) We decide to head to Half Moon Bay for a lovely walk along the coast:

-- First things first... off to Target to buy a new knapsack (where in the world is my old knapsack?? I think it's been lost in the shuffle from SoCal to NYC and back to NoCal) and provisions (ie. snacks) for the trip.

-- We head up the 101 and exit at the Half Moon Bay exit, admiring the beautiful scenery as we wind our way towards the beach and find a parking spot. We're lucky that it's another absolutely gorgeous day and the marine layer has almost lifted already.

-- We set out on the path and complete a full 5 mile loop, chatting about everything and nothing and taking photos of anything interesting that appears. We pass many other walkers, runners, bikers and a TON of people on horseback. I love how freindly everyone is when out walking on a sunny, Saturday morning.

-- As we approach the turnaround point, we catch a whiff of something absolutely putrid just as a girl comes running up from the beach, doubled over and wretching as she goes. After a few more steps, we deduce that there must be a dead animal on the beach and we don't bother going any further (or else we'd BOTH be wretching, too!)

-- On the drive in, we had spotted a promising looking Mexican restaurant on Highway 1, so after trekking back to the car, we took our now famished selves to "Tres Amigos" and pigged out on enchiladas, tortilla chips and salsa. Yum!! It was still packed at 2:00 in the afternoon, so it must be a local fave.

-- We drive back down south and hit "Sugar, Butter, Flour" in Sunnyvale for a long overdue cupckake! (See, I told you that every day on our travels had to be punctuated with something sweet at some point!)

-- As we completed our treats, we looked at each other, thinking the same thing... time for a nap! So, off we went back home where we grabbed a few z's and then roused ourselves for giant salads at The Prolific Oven for dinner. (Our trade-off for the cupcakes earlier in the afternoon!)

Tourist in My Own Town -- Part I

2009-03-29T21:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend, my good friend Chrissy came up to the Bay Area for a visit and for some long overdue girl time. I was excited to spend some time with her, not only because we're great friends and it's been too long, but also because Chrissy and I have traveled together in Europe (a couple of times now) and it's always just so easy and so much fun. We are born travel buddies for sure.

I took Friday off from work and here's how our day panned out:

-- After a last minute conference call in the morning, we struck out for the city and even managed to find our destination parkade without too much fanfare. We trekked up Grant Avenue through Chinatown, poking around in various little shops and making our way to North Beach and Telegraph Hill.

-- Get a Facebook notice from Chet that he will be in town "for one night only!" and are we free to grab a drink in the evening. Yay! Another long lost friend descends upon the Bay Area! We make tentative plans to meet up and agree to update each other via FB or texts as the day unfolds.

-- Grab lunch at North Beach Pizza (yes, again!), this time having the vegetarian special. Just as good as the carnivore extravaganza from a few weeks ago.

-- Set off again, up over the hill and down towards Bay Street where we can cut over to Pier 33 where we can...

-- Visit Alcatraz! Chrissy had the foresight to book us tickets in advance (see, I told you I love traveling with this girl!) and we spent a good chunk of the afternoon cruising around a formal federal penitentiary. If you go to Alcatraz, I highly recommend the audio tour. It takes about 45 minutes and it's done extremely well with the voices of old inmates and guards telling the story of The Rock. At one point, the audio guide invites you to step into one of the isolation cells ("The Hole") and close your eyes in the darkness while he explains the feeling of living in darkness and solitary confinement for days on end. Creepy-dot-org for sure.

-- After Alcatraz, we walked down The Embarcadero to the Ferry Building where we indulged in some incredible gelato. (When Chrissy and I travel, we ALWAYS get ice cream or something sweet at some point in the day -- It is our Golden Rule of International Roaming and shall never be broken.)

-- Next stop, shopping! We poked around in a bunch of stores in the Westfield Mall and elsewhere until we worked up an appetite and then ended up at Cafe de la Presse for a glass of wine and filling french dinner.

-- I text messaged Chet and let him know we were running behind and that we were still in the city. He was running behind, too, so we agreed to meet at Lavande in Palo Alto around 11:00 or so for a quick drink and for the opportunity to hear Chet's fun (but sometimes rather gross) stories about what latest "delicacy" he had to eat on a business trip to Taiwan. (Cow eyeballs, anyone? Careful with your fork, they're slippery little suckers!)

-- We said our good-byes, headed home and fell into bed, happily tired from a fun-filled and busy day.

Things are Looking Upward

2009-03-24T23:44:00.002-07:00

After a roll of really bad movies and bad luck even with live theatre, I think Special K and I may finally be clawing our way back to some level of palatability and respectability as far as our cultural endeavours go. (At this point, anything that doesn't focus on any part of male anatomy, either real OR fake, would be an improvement.)

This past weekend, I made a quick 48-hour trip down to Orange County and on Saturday night, we hopped in the car and headed to North Hollywood in search of some culture (minus the petri dish).

After an unsuccessful attempt to talk our way into one play (Special K: "I know my assistant made the reservations last week"), we went next door and were happy to see that this particular theatre was featuring a Ray Bradbury play, entitled "Falling Upward".

I do the mental math: Well-known playwright/author with a good track record. Check. I've actually read stuff that he's written. Check. Well-known indie theatre in the entertainment capital of the world. Check. Available seats 5 minutes before curtain. Check check check. It all adds up to me.

As we buy our tickets, the agent says, "I have two tickets left in the front row.... you'll be sitting just a few seats away from Mr. Bradbury."

Do what now, y'all?

I'm still processing this last bit of info as Special K tugs my arm and leads me into the theatre. And sure enough, there is Ray Bradbury sitting at the end of our row, in a wheelchair, accompanied by a couple of folks.

Completely star struck, I am thrilled when he introduces the play himself and describes how the time he spent in Ireland (while writing the screen play for "Moby Dick") generated the humanistic observations that allowed him to write the three short plays that were ultimately fused to create "Falling Upward".

The play takes place in Heeber Finn's pub (a real place that Bradbury frequented) and you immediately get the gist of the environment when you see the sign on the pub wall, "No women, no fighting, no swearing". And indeed, this is the watering hole, gathering place and sanctuary for a diverse group of Irishmen. One of the key characters (and narrator) is played by Pat Harrington -- I did not recognize him until Special K said something about "Schneider" and then it all came rushing back to me. Harrington played the building sup on "One Day at a Time" way back in the day. What a trip to see the swarthy, macho Schneider as a soft-spoken, elderly Irishman.

While the play didn't exactly have a solid plot line, the characters were likeable and fun, the dialogue was clever and the situations were authentic and believable as part of this motley crew's day to day routine. (Think of British films like "The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill and Came Down a Mountain" or "Waking Ned Devine" and you'll have a sense of the quirky nature of the characters and the overall situations.)

And of course, I introduced myself to Mr. Bradbury at the intermission and imposed upon him for an autograph.

And now the fire has been fanned once again and I am jonesing for a trip to Ireland. (Get ready for some Guinness, Special K!)

Exit Stage Left.... Please!!

2009-03-24T23:44:00.001-07:00

As I mentioned in the previous post, Special K and I managed to take in a bit of culture in SF while he was last here... and if you're thinking bacteria in a petri dish when you read "culture", you wouldn't be that far off.

After some serious scouring of both online and print sources, we finally found a play in a small, independent theatre that had boasted a number of pretty positive reviews in various media. No matter that the theatre itself was in the shadiest part of San Francisco -- it's the low rent that attracted the starving artists, right?

We always know that any performance can be a dud and that the Dud Quotient rises substantially as you get into the 49 and 99 seat theatres, but with some positive feedback actually published about this particular play, we were feeling pretty confident that this would be a good one. (And we've been on a bit of a bad roll lately with films and performances, so we also figured that the universe owed us a favour.)

But alas, the universe felt it fitting to punish us just a little bit longer.

We spent far too long watching three desperate Hollywood wanna-be characters (and one mostly unconscious character) throw each other around a stage, roll around in fake vomit (which sure looked real) and Funyuns (just as gross as the fake vomit) and generally torture each other both physically and emotionally. And then there were the strap-ons. (Sorry, Mom!) That's right, I used the plural form.... not just one, but TWO... generally not visible, but rather used to make a, um, point about the efficacy of viagra mixed with a cocktail of illicit drugs.

The play has indeed garnered some positive reviews, for instance "astonishly witty dialogue and riotous situations" from a pretty well-known media outlet, so I won't skewer too much here, but leave it at the fact that Special K and I were checking our watches surreptitiously (hopefully) fairly frequently after intermission (and before, if you must know). We could have stayed out on the streets of the Tenderloin and probably seen pretty much the same show.

(The show's run ended just after we saw it, but if you want to know what it was, shoot me an email.)

Tender is the Night

2009-03-24T23:13:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, Special K managed to swing a bit of an extended visit to my NoCal pied-a-terre and while the weather was decent (i.e. no rain) on Saturday, we decided to head up to San Francisco and enjoy the city.

The only concrete plan we had was to visit North Beach Pizza for lunch (again with the pizza!). Special K had been many years ago and loved it and I had heard from countless people over the past few months that it was indeed 'za bomb. We were definitely not disappointed. We were seated along one of the windows where we had a great view of the top of Coit Tower and so we ordered the "Coit Tower Special" just because (no vegetarians in this duo) . In a word? Amazing. (We had lunch around 2:00 and still weren't hungry at 10:00 pm that evening.)

After pizza, we hiked (you don't merely "walk" on those steep streets) around the hills of North Beach and Telegraph Hill, made it to the Coit Tower lookout and then walked down the stairs towards the Embarcadero where we visited the Ferry Building (a must-see for SF visitors!) and then on to Hotel Griffon for a glass of wine. We had the vague notion of wanting to see some theatre that evening, so while sipping on our vino, we put my iPhone through the paces, trying to find a local theatre with a show that sounded good, but that wasn't a broadway epic style musical. (As an aside, it was nearly impossible to find good, reliable, up-to-date theatre info either online or even in the local freebie arts newspaper.)

We finally found something that sounded interesting and hopped in a cab to head over the box office. From my iPhone's map application, I gave the driver the cross streets of our destination.

He looked up at me in his rearview mirror. "You sure that's where you want to go?"

"Yes, definitely -- the theatre is in that block."

He sighed. "Ok.... "

A few minutes later, we jumped out of the cab and turned the corner to head towards the theatre, and that's when I realized that I had unwittingly requested that we be dropped off in the heart of the Tenderloin.

The Tenderloin is a small, dense neighbourhood in downtown San Francisco that, in spite of its rich history and recent revitalization efforts, still remains an area of squalid conditions, homelessness, crime, drug sales (and abuse) and prostitution. And we walked right smack into the middle of ALL of that. We picked our way around the homeless and those under the influence and once we checked in at the theatre box office, we hustled down towards Market Street to kill some time in the shops before curtain.

After the play, we spilled back out onto the street and while the neighourhood hadn't seemed THAT bad in the daylight, the darkness brought out the most sinister, shady and sleazy elements, and made you not want to linger on the street discussing the show you just saw. (There were also other reasons you might not want to discuss that particular show, but I'll save those for another blog post.)

As I instinctively reached for Special K and hissed "Hold my hand!!", two grubby men seated on the sidewalk repeatedly nattered "Yeah, you BETTA hold her hand! You BETTA hang onto that one!"

You BETTA believe he will! And if he won't, I most certainly will!

Facebook -- Time Travel for the Rest of Us

2009-03-24T22:54:00.000-07:00

All of us are well acquainted with Facebook's ability to teleport us into the past as we reconnect with high school and college buddies, former colleagues from long-forgotten jobs (and companies) and and other random people you thought you'd never see again.

But tonight, Facebook has also managed to transport me into the future.... three hours into the future to be precise! I posted a comment to a Group wall and Facebook tagged it as posted "at 1:48 am tomorrow". (Peep at the screen shot.)

Holy cats! Call Doc Brown and Marty McFly!

I wish I'd had the time advantage LAST week when I was picking my bloody brackets for March Madness.

What a fun little situation when your computer's clock is still set on Eastern time (even though you moved from NYC about six months ago), but you're connected to the internet via an IP address in the Pacific time zone.

The Facebook Theory of Relativity. A whole different space-time construct.

Bracketology -- I Need a New Area of Study

2009-03-22T10:40:00.000-07:00

Latest updates:

- Siena, Cleveland State and Arizona were big bracket busters for me, beating Ohio State, Wake Forest (!) and Utah respectively.

- My irrational emotional attachment to my alma mater cost me valuable pool points. (Darn it, you Bruins!)

- Looks like Syracuse is about to cost me more valuable points.

- At least my Final Four are still in tact, but there's no way my total number of possible available points is enough to put me back in the lead at any point.

At least I had the foresight to capture the screen shot that showed me in the lead for one brief, glorious moment!

Bracketology

2009-03-21T09:06:00.000-07:00

The month of March has a lot going for it. It's home to the first official day of spring (on which, incidentally, it snowed in NYC this year as Mother Nature's firm reminder that no matter what the calendar says, she's still in charge), and in fact, it's really the key transition month from winter to spring (the whole "in like a lion, out like a lamb" thing). It's also a BIG month for birthdays as my dad, Special K's brother and half the Kaboodle office can attest.

AND it is the calendar home to the perennially exciting NCAA men's basketball championship tournament. (And when you think about it, it could ONLY be called March Madness -- February Fever or April Action just don't pack the same punch.)

This year, in support of the madness, we set up an office pool and all made our picks across all the various brackets the day before the tourney kicked off and we've been closely following the 1st round progress over the past two days. (Ready for 2nd round to begin today!)

While I have always enjoyed college basketball, I am now feverishly following each game, even to the point of having the Siena/Ohio State game on mute on JetBlue last night. (Darn it, O-H-ten, you guys cost me a point!! Good thing I didn't bet on you to get any further than the 2nd round!)
And because I know this moment is fleeting and short-lived (the game by game shifts in bracketology are swift and dramatic), I just had to post a screen shot showing that at one point in time yesterday, I was actually leading the pool with 21 out of 24 correct picks! (And then Ohio State, Utah and Wake Forest all crumbled... and now Mad Mamma's Ballers have eclipsed me!)

Stay tuned for more updates!

(Special thanks to Special K who debated the picks with me, discussing who's hot, who's on a roll and who would be a killer upset. What a team we make! On and off the court!) ;-)

That's What I Meant to Say

2009-03-18T21:50:00.000-07:00

Does your cell phone have an auto correct feature? And does it sometimes wreak havoc on what you're trying to say to someone via a text message, an email or a Twitter post? Yep, mine too.

And the funny thing is that my iPhone seems to learn certain words, but retains a solid mental block against learning others -- as if it can passively bully me into adapting the vocabulary it wants me to use.

Often at the end of my texts to Special K, I'll sign off with "xo", but if I'm not paying attention, the phone will correct it to "so". And since my attempt at "xo" generally comes at the end of the text, Special K will often reply with "so what?", wondering why I didn't finish my thought.

I tried posting something to Twitter once, starting with "whoo hoo" and my two first attempts were met with iPhone edits of "shop hop" and "shoe goo". "Shoe goo"? Without a correction, my post would have read something like "Shoe goo!! We just closed a huge advertising deal!! Shop hop!!" Not exactly the effect I was going for.

Special K does not have an iPhone, but his device does have an auto correct feature and it seems to actually lose its memory over time and then has to be retrained. The best example is when it comes time for the NFL season to start again. Between the playoffs and the start of the following season, Special K's phone seemingly forgets the very important word "Steelers". So, for the first couple games of the season, Special K's phone tries to send text messages that exclaim "Go Puddles!!" instead of "Go Steelers!!" Again, not exactly the impact we're looking for.

(As an aside, the first time he told me about "puddles", I almost blew Coca-Cola out my nose, I was laughing so hard..... "Go Puddles!! Shoe goo!!")

And finally, tonight while I was waiting for a friend to show up at a restaurant in Palo Alto, I tried texting Special K "Hi hottie!" and it auto corrected to "Hi hogtie!" THAT just about made me choke on my red wine. I actually left it like that when I sent the text, figuring that Special K would either chuckle or write it off to my glass of Pinot Noir.

Buon Appetito!

2009-03-11T22:34:00.000-07:00

There's just about nothing better than good Italian food. Am I right?? (Unfortunately, it's also way too easy to stumble across mediocre or even downright bad Italian food. As a general principle, I stay away from those family-style Italian places where the servings are HUGE but every dish is some banal version of pasta with an acidic marinara sauce. Not mentioning any names, but you know who you are, Buca... di... well, you know.)

I was delighted to discover that there is an excellent Italian place literally just down the road from my office. I was first at Il Postale in Sunnyvale for a business lunch a couple of months ago and was pretty happy with the 4-cheese ravioli I ordered. In fact, I liked it so much that I dragged Special K there for dinner one night a couple of weeks after my inaugural lunch. We had another excellent meal and then just last week, I arranged to meet Ginger there for dinner after work. We were very strategic in our ordering, splitting a bruschetta starter and then also splitting our salmon and rigatoni entrees so we could try as many different things as possible.

So, at this point, I'm 3 for 3 -- can't complain!

And on this last visit, I made friends with Joe, the owner, who was wonderful and very helpful with his menu and wine suggestions.

Aside from the food, Il Postale is absolutely adorable as a restaurant -- it is located in the original Sunnyvale post office building ("post office" sounds SO much better in Italian, doesn't it?) with a fairly intimate indoor dining area and a quaint outdoor patio. You can also get the full menu at the bar (which is exactly where Joe set Ginger and I up, so he could take care of us all evening).

I highly recommend Il Postale. And if you're questioning my tastes based upon previous posts about pizza and barbeque, you should know that CitySearch.com voted Il Postale Silicon Valley's best Italian restaurant for 7 out of the past 8 years.

Il Postale is located at 127 W. Washington Avenue in Sunnyvale.

Pub Crawl

2009-03-03T21:29:00.000-08:00

Ok, it wasn't really a pub crawl... it was more of a wine bar crawl.... and it actually only involved two bona fide wine bars and then one A-mazing dessert place (which may have had wine in the back room, but we didn't think to ask once we had laid eyes on the cupcakes).

On my last trip to New York, I met up with Sia on a Saturday night for some good girl time and some great gastronomic fun. Sia is a gourmet and epicure extraordinaire, so I always know I'm in for top-notch eats and vino when I'm with her.

We started at Bar Veloce in Chelsea. We settled in and caught up over a diverse spectrum of Italian wine and great tapas-style dishes. Veloce is modeled after a European "fast bar", so it's meant to be a place where you pop in with friends for a drink and good bite to eat and then move on. While there are cocktail height tables as well as the actual bar, there is no wait staff, only bartenders. That means that if you are seated at a table (as we were), you had to push your way over to the bar and flag down a harried bartender in order to place an order for anything -- beverage or food. It was quaint, but not easy since the bar itself was jam-packed with a person at every seat.

Next stop was in the West Village. Warmed from our first glasses of wine, we headed off down 7th Avenue for a nice brisk walk on a cool February night and finally burst in through the doors of another quaint wine bar on Greenwich Avenue, Gottino. We installed ourselves at the bar this time, made friends with the bartender/sommelier, Kevin, and ordered a couple of glasses of his recommendations. We also sampled more food (of course!) and in a true New York moment, we started chatting with the couple next to us. She was a singer-songwriter and he was her best friend whom she'd tried to pick up 12 years ago in a bar -- until he informed her that he was gay and they've been BFF's ever since. (I LOVE the random encounters that happen in NYC -- no other city is quite the same way.)

Finally, after exchanging hugs and email addresses with our new friends, Sia asked if I was interested in dessert. Have we met?? She knew a place just a couple of blocks away that she promised would be perfect.

Batch did turn out to be perfect. It's a tiny place run and owned by renowned chef Pichet Ong. Pichet's specialty is pastries and desserts and now I know why. We each ordered a cupcake (both were to die for) and then Pichet (whom Sia knows personally) gave us a complimentary chocolate chip cookie. Which sounds like not a big deal, but let me tell you about this cookie! Even though it had been baked earlier in the day, the chocolate chunks were still gooey (made with special Valhrona chocolate) and Sia and I both thought we'd entered a new dimension after the first bite. (For all you foodies out there, Pichet has worked in the kitchens at Jean Georges and Tabla in NYC and Olives in Boston -- he is the real deal with many accolades and many, many three-star reviews over the course of his career. And to top it all of, he was just a nice, down-to-earth guy who kept trying to give us more free desserts.)

After our cupcakes and cookies, we waddled back outside and up to Greenwich Avenue to catch a cab and I headed back to my hotel where I'm sure I dreamt about even MORE food.

In the Eye of the Beholder

2009-02-28T20:01:00.000-08:00

On a bit of a whim today, I decided to go to the San Jose Museum of Art downtown. My Fodor's guide to NoCal uses a star to indicate that it's one of their recommended picks and suggests that the SJ Museum doesn't try to compete with the larger art museums in San Francisco, but rather that it "does its own thing".

I lucked into an Andy Warhol exhibit -- the soup cans and repeating Marilyn Monroe's still intrigue me. There was also a photo essay tribute to Frida Kahlo and it was fascinating to learn a bit more about her back story.

And then I entered the gallery where the permanent collection was housed.

The very first exhibit was a little bit difficult to make out as I approached from across the open landing. But even at a distance, it had the distinct flavour of a barnyard animal. A dirty barnyard animal.

Standing in front of it with my head cocked to the side, I figured it was most definitely a pig. A very muddy pig. Draped over a stool. And it looked like real mud. (Dried by now, of course.)

I looked over at the wall and read the card that described the piece of art and listed the artist and her details. Under "Materials", it read: "Stuffed animals, mud, furry bathrobes, and wood stool."

I kid you not.

I read a bit further to find out that the dried mud-covered object had indeed once been a pastel-colored stuffed animal pig. He had then been wrapped in fuzzy bathrobes so that his shape as a pig was now only barely discernible. Then he had been liberally coated in mud, left to dry and then propped up on a wood stool for the San Jose Museum of Art.

According to the artist, the use of the bathrobes was important because they suggest a connection with the human body and may evoke feelings of comfort. (Even when coated in mud??)

The last line of the description said that the artist's use of those particular materials "calls into question our definition of art."

I'll say it does.

Because Everyone in Canada Lives in Igloos

2009-02-26T20:36:00.000-08:00

(Thanks to Cathy K who sent me this in an email earlier today which had me LMAO in the office. You Canadians will think it funnier than anyone else. Obviously.)

Now that Vancouver has won the chance to host the 2010 Winter Olympics, these are some questions people from all over the world are asking. Believe it or not these questions about Canada were posted on an International Tourism Website. Obviously the answers are a joke; but the questions were really asked!

Q: I have never seen it warm on Canadian TV, so how do the plants grow? (England)
A. We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.

Q: Will I be able to see Polar Bears in the street? (USA)
A: Depends on how much you've been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Vancouver to Toronto - can I follow the Railroad tracks? (Sweden)
A: Sure, it's only four thousand miles, take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Canada? (Sweden)
A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.

Q: Are there any ATM's (cash machines) in Canada? Can you send me a list of them in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton and Halifax? (England)
A: What, did your last slave die?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Canada? (USA)
A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe ... Ca-na-da is that big country to your North...oh forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is North in Canada? (USA)
A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can I bring cutlery into Canada? (England)
A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA)
A : Aus-t-ri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is...oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Vancouver and in Calgary, straight after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Do you have perfume in Canada? (Germany)
A: No, WE don't stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Where can I sell it in Canada? (USA)
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in British Columbia where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy)
A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada? (USA)
A: Only at Thanksgiving.

Q: Are there supermarkets in Toronto and is milk available all year round? (Germany)
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of Vegan hunter/gathers. Milk is illegal.

Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Canada, but I forget its name. It's a kind of big horse with horns. (USA)
A: It's called a Moose. They are tall and very violent, eating the brains of anyone walking close to them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)
A: Yes, but you will have to learn it first.

Thank goodness Canadians are blessed with an excellent sense of humour. (Not humor.)

BBQ 4 U

2009-02-24T22:19:00.000-08:00

You already know a little bit about my eating habits. You know, for instance, that I'm a sucker for a great slice of pizza and that while I enjoy a fine meal, I'm often just as happy with something down home (did I just say "down home"?) and basic. Special K is much the same way and one of his semi-regular cravings is good barbeque.

Note that I qualify barbeque with "good" because there is plenty of "bad" out there and having spent many of his formative years in Texas, Special K knows his ribs, tri-tip, brisket and links.

For months now, he has had his eye on a little hole-in-the-wall kind of place just down the street from my office and we finally decided to go check it out a couple of weekends back.

I could tell he was excited by the extra spring in his step as we made our way from the car across the tiny parking lot and as he flung open the door and stepped aside to let me into the place first. Now, I am not such a huge BBQ fan simply because I don't really like BBQ sauce all that much. However, I do like items that have been cooked ON a barbeque. (Heck, I grew up in the Texas of Canada, so I BETTER like it!) In spite of my fair-weather barbeque tendencies, even I could sense that something was amiss after one quick, cursory glance at the giant menu on the wall behind the counter.

Lots of burgers.

And more burgers.

Huh. And that's about it.

Special K wrinkled his nose and asked the guy behind the counter about the REAL barbeque stuff. With that, the guy gestured towards the grill top where another guy was flipping burgers.

"But what about brisket? Chicken? Sausage? Tri-tip?"

"Burgers" came the bored reply.

So we ordered burgers and called it a meal. Sort of.

Fast-forward a couple of weeks.

Last Friday night, we were driving down one of the main streets in Santa Clara when Special K's eagle eyes spotted the sign: "Andy's Bar-B-Que" in large neon lights. In a flash, I was in the right lane, turning into the parking lot.

As we walked into the place, I could feel Special K relax. "Ah, yeah.... this looks right... it SMELLS right." And sure enough, amidst the wood-panelled walls and pleather-seated booths, we were treated to REAL barbeque, Texas-style. Piles of chicken, tri-tip, pork ribs, and giant baked potatoes with the works. (When the waiter asked me "Do you want sour cream, butter, cheese, or chives on your potato?", I just replied with "Yes, please." He laughed.)

And I bet I'm the first person to eat a meal there and never (not ONCE) even dip into the barbeque sauce.

(Andy's Bar-B-Que is located at 2367 El Camino Real in Santa Clara. Go. And get the blue cheese dressing on the salad. A-mazing.)

Drama in the Valley

2009-02-24T22:09:00.000-08:00

In the last 24 hours:

- I have been awoken by my neighbours screaming at each other at the tops of their lungs at 1:30 in the morning. AND their baby was screaming in the background. (Poor child.)

- A small child was screaming (sensing a theme here?) at 7:30 this morning and carried on for 15 minutes or more. I heard adult voices, so I didn't go investigate, but I think he may have fallen down the stairs or something. (Again... poor child.)

- As I was driving home from work tonight, I had to stand on my brakes in order to avoid the car in front of me who had stopped suddenly in the lane that peeled off onto the freeway on-ramp. As we got everything sorted out, I saw that a guy had jumped out of his Honda Accord and was beating on the passenger side window of an Audi A4 behind him, as the Audi driver threw his car into reverse in an attempt to flee the assault. Road rage, Sunnyvale style.

Don't let anyone tell ya that Silicon Valley is sleepy and suburban.

There's Something About Mary

2009-02-22T16:56:00.001-08:00

I was determined, while in New York this last time, to see a show on Broadway since I would be there over a weekend and presumably have time to squeeze that in. One of the things I miss most about New York is the regular and frequent access to all sorts of culture, whether it's live music, Broadway, off-Broadway or even WAY off-Broadway.

While living in the Big Apple, I was a regular patron of the TKTS kiosk in Times Square and could often pick up a ticket to a great show for 50% off. And what's more, I could often even get a seat in an excellent location at the last minute because there would sometimes be single tickets left in prime orchestra section rows while finding two or three tickets together was much more difficult and could quickly put you in the upper balconies near the back.

On my Sunday in the city, I wandered up to the TKTS booth and was a bit surprised to see a more limited selection of available shows. I needed to go to an early show because I was meant to be at Mercury Bar between 4:00 and 4:30 for Super Bowl. There was a showing at 2:00 for "Pal Joey", but the only ticket left in the place was in the very last row of the top mezzanine.

I looked back at the ticker of available shows and saw that there was only one show at 1:00... which would be plenty of time to make it to the gathering for The Big Game. The only problem was that I wasn't sure I even really wanted to SEE the show that was at 1:00 .... I looked at the TKTS agent and asked "What do you have left for that 1:00 show?" She replied "I have a single in the 8th row center orchestra."

I took a deep breath and said, "Well, then.... one for Mary Poppins, please", and I parted with my $40.00.

As I made my way over to the New Amsterdam theatre on 42nd Street, I hoped that I hadn't made a mistake. I found my seat, and as you would expect, I was surrounded by kids under ten, many clutching stuffed animals and blankies along with their Playbills.

As it turned out, I needn't have worried. From the moment the curtain went up, the stage production of Mary Poppins was fabulous from every possible perspective. The cast was excellent, the sets were beautiful, Mary's little moments of "magic" were portrayed brilliantly for a live audience and the whole show was capped off by Mary disappearing out over the audience, drifting away with her signature umbrella in hand.

It was.... hmmm... what's that word....

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?

Ah yes, that's the very word.

Nerd Humour

2009-02-16T11:16:00.000-08:00

I have a bit of a quirky sense of humour. (Starting with the fact that I still insist on spelling “humour” with a “u” despite having lived in the US for over a decade.) As a result, I enjoy anything witty and clever and I particularly appreciate plays on words.

When I was recently in New York, I saw the funniest t-shirt slogan I’d seen in a long time:

“Talk Nerdy to Me!” (accompanied by a line drawing of a computer, natch!)

Geek (or is that “nerd”?) that I am, I thought “I bet ‘talk nerdy to me’ is just the tip of the iceberg.” And lo and behold, after a couple of quick searches on both Kaboodle and Google, I found these t-shirt slogans:

“I logged off Second Life for this??”

“It’s not that I can’t explain it – it’s just that you wouldn’t understand”

“Alcohol and calculus don’t mix – don’t drink and derive”

“Ctrl + Alt + Delete is ALWAYS an option”

And my personal favourite:

< >
That’s a great idea.
< / sarcasm >

And here’s one I know my Dad will appreciate:

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate”

(Chemist humour!)

PS (I started a t-shirt list on my Kaboodle profile.)

Forgive me, Father...

2009-02-16T10:19:00.001-08:00

... for I have sinned... it has been over two weeks since my last blog entry.

And as a result, I'm seriously backblogged.

Honestly, where does the time go? I have made myself notes about many, many things to blog about, but I have not been able to siphon off even a half hour of late to chat about something random and unimportant.

Time to reprioritize! After all, the world needs more inane blogs about even more inane and random topics. :-)

Super Sunday!

2009-02-02T20:30:00.000-08:00

As you all know, I've been fully adopted into the phenomenon that is Steeler Nation and as such, I am now a huge Pittsburgh Steelers fan of my own accord. (It's kind of amusing to think that if Special K decided to break up with me, I would still follow those darn Men of Steel on my own... and LIKE it.)

Special K and I watched the AFC Championship together in a couple of sports bars near my place in NoCal and as Super Sunday drew nearer, Special K was able to wrangle his way to Tampa and managed to secure a couple of tickets to the Big Game for himself and good buddy (and fellow Pittsburgh native), PJ.

Meanwhile, I was in NYC that weekend and had gathered with a bunch of friends at Mercury Bar on 9th Avenue to watch the game (and yes, I was wearing my Steelers t-shirt!) For those of you who watched the game, you'll know that the fourth quarter was absolutely exhausting with the Cardinals coming from behind to score a touchdown with only a couple of minutes left on the clock.

In the last 35 seconds, Steelers QB, Big Ben, threw a pass into the end zone to Santonio Holmes -- he caught it, but it was unclear in the moment whether he was actually in bounds or not.

My biggest personal contribution to Super Bowl XLIII was being able to send Special K a text message at that point in the game, while the play was under review and the stadium did not have the benefit of television's gift of instant replay, and jubilantly tell Speciak K that "He's totally in! Both feet!!"

Special K was then able to share that with his entire section before the official ruling on the field was announced.

Gotta love technology! And ring #6 for the Steelers!

Taking a Stroll at MoMA

2009-01-31T15:22:00.000-08:00

For those of you who immediately honed in on the image to the right and wondered, "OMG, is Shari not telling us something??", the answer is NO -- I'm not in any remote position to even consider actually having a stroller in my possession. Ok, now that we have that cleared up, I will tell you how the picture of this particular stroller came to be on my blog.

While making the rounds with everyone in New York, I made plans to see Nick, Reny and wee Ryan on Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately, Reny was stuck at the office and so Nick and I decided to bundle up wee Ryan (who isn't so wee now that he's verging on two full years of age!) and venture outside. Since it was only about 25 degrees out there, we headed for MoMA where we could walk around, but stay inside. (And for zero dollars since Nick's corporate deal got us all in for free. Score!)

Nick and Reny won an uber-space age stroller in a raffle when Reny was expecting and it's SUCH a design feat that the stroller is also on display in MoMA. That's right. It's actually on display. And numerous people in the museum pointed that out to me since I was the one pushing the stroller while Nick ran off in every direction after the wildly energetic nearly two-year-old Ryan.

And I guess this particular stroller (by Stokke) has such buzz in the parenting set these days that 3 different women stopped me with the opener "I know this is a really weird question to ask, but..." and then they would proceed to ask me how I liked the stroller. My answers ranged from the awkward, "Um, actually, it's not really... I'm not actually.... I don't really...." to "It's a great place to stash my purse and coat while walking around MoMA!" And before those women could give me a look just dripping with disdain, I quickly explained that I was the Auntie (the Auntie who saw the benefits of a high-end stroller as a simple storage device... no wonder I don't have kids!)

(As an aside, on our way to MoMA, Nick looked over as I mis-negotiated a curb and said, "Geez Shari, you look a little stiff with the stroller!" Well, I managed to fool a bunch of real moms in MoMA, so that's something!)

We chased Ryan around for about an hour and played many games (all involving running) and I have to admit that when it was time to leave, I was definitely breaking a sweat. And I was amazed at how hard it is to get a nearly two-year-old wrangled into his sweater, jacket, hat and mittens.

After that afternoon, it was MY turn for a nap.

Taking a Bite Out of The Big Apple

2009-01-31T08:07:00.001-08:00

I'm back in NYC for about week and [mostly] enjoying every minute of it. The trip was borne out of business needs, and because I ended up with meetings both this week and next, I ended up staying in New York over this weekend instead of flying back and forth to CA twice. (Potentially over a dozen hours on airplanes and in airports avoided? Yes, please!)

A few highlights from the trip so far:

- Fun dinner at staple Vynl with Oda, Ally and Sally with an adorable waiter who understood my personal dining and drinking needs. (Although, I wish that when he said the drink I ordered tasted like a watermelon Jolly Rancher, that he would have ALSO mentioned that the Red Bull in the drink would keep me up all night.)

- FINALLY a trip to Otto's Pizzeria with the Kaboodle gang -- I never did eat at Otto's when I lived in New York, so it was fun to finally go after hearing all the raves. Food was good, cheese plate was amazing and the wine list was to die for.

- Drinks with Kate (and nearly Jess) and then a pretty darn good sushi dinner at Blue Ribbon.

- A trip to the Burger Joint late last night.

Wow, I'm just realizing how everything seems to revolve around food when I'm in the city... and oh, look -- it's almost time for lunch!

Wish Me Luck

2009-01-22T22:20:00.001-08:00

At this very moment, I am taking a quick break from packing... tomorrow night, I head out for a [mostly] business trip that looks something like this:

- Los Angeles and Orange County for three days

- New York for three days

- Possibly Tampa, FL for two days

- Back to New York for three more days

- Minneapolis for one day

And then back to NoCal. I'm looking forward to going (great meetings and reasons to meet), but I am a bit exhausted just thinking about it all.

And I am bound and determined to pack everything into one single carry-on rollerboard suitcase and one single shoulder bag. (There is a hotel laundry service somewhere in my future.) So far, it's looking good... I am now the master of mixing and matching!

Chocolate Ice Cream or "Like Water for Chocolate"?

2009-01-20T22:13:00.000-08:00

Special K was here in NoCal for four blissful days this past weekend and at one point, he made a casual remark about how many books were in various stacks on and near my nightstand (probably two dozen), how many were neatly piled on the living room table (at least three or four more) and how many were on the side of my desk (another four or five)... not to mention the dozens and dozens of books that were snugly tucked away in their rightful places on actual bookshelves in various rooms.

I am a constant reader, so it's not unusual for me to have a few books on my nightstand at any given time, but even Special K knew that something was a little odd since I literally had books everywhere and in almost every room.

I hadn't thought about it before, but when he pointed it out, I blurted, "They make me feel good!"

And that's when I realized it... books are my comfort food.

Instead of gorging on mashed potatoes, chicken pot pie and ice cream during times of stress, I overindulge in paperbacks and hardcovers. I surround myself with novels, anthologies, short stories, non-fiction and even the odd play. You can actually gauge my current stress level by the number and height of the various book stacks around my house.

Amazon.com is my IHOP, Marie Calendar's and Denny's all rolled into one. Comfort food for the soul. (Although, thankfully, I usually pick better titles for consumption than the literary equivalents of the Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n Fruity.)

And it's not just that I pull books that I already own off the shelves and ponder those... No, I binge and buy MORE books. I click on a link online and the next thing I know, a box full of books shows up at my office (darn that one-click purchasing!). I walk into Costco with a list (and coupons for those listed items) and come out with another three books. I go to Target for staples and wind up with another couple of paperbacks in my cart.

So, there you go. I'm a binger. But the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right? I bet there's a book I could get about that ...

On My Mind...

2009-01-20T22:06:00.000-08:00

-- What exactly is the point of Playboy Radio? Isn't the whole idea to actually SEE the naked girls?

-- Why does almost everyone come to a complete stop at the start of a quarter-mile long merge lane?

-- Men who walk on stilts shouldn't throw stones... and they certainly shouldn't be technology consultants.

-- Comcast has a brilliant system where both your phone and internet come into your home via the same modem and connection. When you call tech support from your land line (which I have to do because I have terrible cell coverage in my area) and they need to remotely reset your modem, they end up cutting you off (because the reset interrupts the phone line as well as the high-speed internet connection) and they can't walk you through the rest of the steps to fix your problem. Uh... you'd think someone woulda thought of that little snafu?

-- Why does ANY urban area continue to have poor cell coverage?? This is Silicon Valley, for pete's sake.

-- Why would a guy send me a friend request on Facebook when the last time I saw him, I threw about 20 oz of Red Bull and vodka in his face because he was being SUCH a jerk?

Expansion!

2009-01-13T18:38:00.000-08:00

A little while back, my official arrival at Kaboodle was announced with a press release, and a great site that celebrates the successes of professional women, NewsOnWomen.com, picked up the release and featured it on their site.

Subsequently, they approached me about contributing a blog entry or two and I am happy to report that my first bit of random wisdom (can I really use the term "wisdom" when referring to myself??) was published on the site yesterday.

Here is the link to the post and I will be sure to let you know about any future collaboration!

Cruel and Unusual

2009-01-11T11:09:00.001-08:00

I'm trying to get re-acquainted with and re-committed to a regular gym schedule. It's not really a New Year's resolution as much as it is a constantly present goal that tends to easily get sidelined by work, travel and spontaneous social plans. But I continue to doggedly pursue the goal and so this weekend, I managed to make it to the gym both yesterday morning and this morning.

The gym is on the second level of my property's clubhouse and its french doors open onto a balcony area that overlooks the common area of the clubhouse where there is a grand piano, huge cozy couches, a games room and a small kitchen.

In that kitchen, the property management team bakes a variety of cookies every day and this morning, just as I was finishing my workout (and feeling pretty good about the calories I just burned), the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted up from below, into the gym and wound its way around me, enveloping me in warmth and the promise of something that would make me smile, close my eyes and go "mmmmm" with the first bite. (I am a huge sucker for freshly baked cookies, as my mom can well attest.)

It was all I could do to hastily scoop up my water bottle, sweatshirt and keys and beat a path out of there as fast as I could, plugging my nose, repeating "I can't smell you!" in my head and focusing on the egg white scramble I would be making myself for breakfast. Not quite the same as a fresh chocolate chip cookie.

If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It!

2009-01-10T17:04:00.000-08:00

Just before I left for the holidays, I noticed that the faucet in the tub in my master bathroom was starting to get a little bit stiff. By the time I returned almost two weeks later, it had ceased up completely and was impossible to turn on. (Luckily, I have a shower in my second bathroom, so I wasn't reduced to trying to conduct a sponge bath out of the sink. I don't, however, have even a shower curtain in that bathroom yet, so "showering" was still a bit of a challenge.)

I called the property manager's office on Tuesday and and filed a work order. They said they wouldn't be able to get to it that day, but Wednesday for sure. Wednesday came and went and still no fixed faucet. Wednesday night, I swung by the office and the attendant assured me that Thursday would be the day.

"Your request is right at the top of the list!"

I got home around 9:30 pm after work on Thursday and the faucet was STILL not fixed, so first thing on Friday, I called the property manager's office again.

"We're so sorry, one of our maintenance staff had a personal emergency and so we are short one person right now. We will definitely have this taken care of today for you!"

After work on Friday, I went out with a good friend of mine and stumbled home after midnight. I flipped the light on in the kitchen and... Eureka! The maintenance guy had been there! He left a copy of the work order on the kitchen counter with the word "COMPLETED" scrawled in big, bold letters. I almost skipped to the bathroom, so happy to have my shower back, but my happiness was short-lived because when I reached for the faucet control, it wouldn't budge. Ugh. For the hour and ten minutes the guy was in my apartment, was he just watching TV or something?? Because he clearly didn't even touch the ailing bathtub faucet.

I went to bed and resolved to deal with it in the morning.

This morning, on my way to the gym, I dropped into the property management office (with the copy of the "completed" work order) and explained that the faucet was just as bad as ever. The attendant immediately offered to have someone take care of it that morning and off I went to the gym.

When I came back from the gym, the plumber was just finishing up and he said, "You know what the problem was?"

Um, no.

"Yeah, the guy yesterday? He fixed the OTHER tub."

Come again?

"Yeah, he fixed the faucet in the other room -- guess he was confused about which bathroom," he said with a jovial shrug.

The fact that one faucet worked and the other did not was not a strong enough clue?

Shoe La La!

2009-01-05T22:22:00.001-08:00

Remember my little Cyber Monday "situation" where the heavily discounted Banana Republic shoes that I had dumped into my virtual shopping cart went right back to full price at midnight, like the Cinderella of footwear?

Well, I'm happy to report that they went back on sale after Christmas and they are now sitting snug in my closet, waiting to make their debut.

If the shoe fits, buy it!

Great Minds Think Alike

2009-01-05T20:50:00.000-08:00

Christmas morning.

We are all gathered in the living room, opening gifts.

My Dad brings a present over to me and I fleetingly think that the size, shape and weight is familiar. Special K is sitting next to me and as I begin to pull the wrapping paper off, we catch each other's eye and start to laugh. From across the room, my Mom looks at me suspiciously and asks, "Oh no, do you have one of those already?" as I pull the Kodak digital photo frame from its wrapping. I smile and say no and assure her that I love it -- it's a perfect gift.

A couple of minutes later, I get up, and pull another gift out from under the tree and hand it to my mom, saying "You and Dad should open this one now." She looks at me quizically and then begins to unwrap the box. A look of recognition and understanding hits both their faces simultaneously and they laugh heartily as they pull another Kodak digital frame out from its wrapping paper -- the gift I brought with me to give to them.

A couple of minutes later, my Dad hands my mom a present (to her, from him) and with a bit of a smirk, suggests that she unwrap it. Any guesses? That's right, the third Kodak digital photo frame of the day has now made its appearance. By now, we are all laughing and cracking jokes about buying stock in Kodak. And just so that we'll all have at least one photo to upload to our shiny new digital frames, Special K took a photo of the gene pool that completely indepedently came up with the same idea for a gift .... three times.

In Canada, we refer to this as a "hat trick".

Happy New Year!

2009-01-03T09:10:00.001-08:00

Can you even believe that it is 2009 already? It feels like the second half of the year just rushed by like a freight train. I guess moving across the country and transitioning into a new job will do that to you.

Special K and I made our way to Calgary for Christmas, bracing ourselves for the -20 degree weather that the prairies had been "blessed" with the middle of December. Luckily, by the time we arrived, the temps were only around 10 degrees F and that didn't feel nearly as cold as what we had prepared ourselves for. It was definitely a white Christmas with many feet of snow in open spaces and many more feet piled up where it had drifted in beside buildings and leafless hedges.

I was in Calgary less than an hour when I skidded on the edge of our driveway (carry-on bag slung over one shoulder and a suitcase in the other hand) and landed squarely in a fresh snow bank. (Just moments after Special K had said "Why don't you let me get your suitcase for you?" and I had waved him off thinking "I travel all the time by myself, I'm fine." Ah, ice and snow, the great equalizer.) I was now dusted in a healthy coating of the white stuff and as we made our way into the house, there was my mom, camera in hand and POOF, the bright flash captured me in all my snow-clad glory.

But after that initial misstep, the rest of the trip was great fun. We spent quality time with my parents, saw lots of old friends (high school and university buddies of mine), shopped on Boxing Day (of course!), cuddled with 5-day old Schnauzer puppies, watched a few movies, and saw some spectacular sunrises. We were even treated to a fresh snowfall a couple of days after Christmas. And we ate. Non-stop. For five days.

It was one of those trips where you don't even know what day it is and frankly, you don't even care. A perfect way to wind down an insanely busy 2008. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for everything! xoxo

Techno Rant

2008-12-29T21:03:00.000-08:00

On our way to LAX to catch our flight to Calgary for the holidays, I spotted an “LA Story”-style freeway sign from the backseat of the towncar as we were making our way up the 91 freeway. It said “No text messages while driving after Jan 1st.” I remarked to Special K that just a decade (or less) ago, that sign would have made no sense. “Text messages”? What does THAT mean?

Although I was pretty sure that my comment was only really made loud enough for Special K to hear, our driver, Ken, piped up from behind the wheel and said, “It makes no sense NOW!”

Special K and I looked at each other, unsure of what the appropriate response should be.

But before either of us could respond, Ken launched into a tirade that began with “Why can’t you just CALL someone if you have something to say?? If it’s important enough to TELL someone about, then just pick up the phone and SAY it. I just don’t get it – it’s ridiculous!!”

I thought better of trying to engage Ken in a meaningful conversation about the different layers and levels of communication that exist within our society today, based on the wide variety of technological help we now have access to on a mass scale. But I figured my detailed and thoughtful conjecture on the nuances of phone calls versus emails versus text messages versus IM would cause him to burst a blood vessel just thinking about it.

But even without my encouragement, Ken was on a roll. Phase 2 of the rant went like this:

“It took me FOREVER to figure out this YouTube thing. I kept thinking that people were talking about U2, and I’d think to myself, I know they’re a good band, but why is EVERYONE talking about them?? This must be one helluva new music video they’ve got out. THEN I figure out it’s YouTube and not U2. Does anyone even USE YouTube?? I mean, what could the point of it be??”

From our captive spots in the back seat, Special K and I nodded, laughed and said “Right” at all of the appropriate places and then Ken said, “And what’s that new one now that everyone is talking about?”

Before I could elbow him to not respond, Special K answers, “Twitter?”

“YES! Twitter! Now what is the deal with THAT?? I don’t get it at all.”
Ken proceeded to rant about micro-blogging and the like while I pulled out my iPhone and pondered via Twitter whether Ken even owned an answering machine in the year 2008.

The Dry Spell is Over!

2008-12-22T17:15:00.000-08:00

I don't know about you, but it has seemed that there has been a real drought in the movie business lately. Blockbusters like "The Dark Knight" and "Quantum of Solace" notwithstanding, it has been a tall order to find a decent movie to spend 90 or so minutes of your time on.

That is precisely why I'm always happy when November and December roll around and bring with them all sorts of Oscar hopefuls. This year has certainly been no disappointment and here's a smattering of what I've loved lately in the theatres:

"I've Loved You So Long"

This French film (sub-titled) with Kristin Scott Thomas is mysterious and moving as it reveals Juliette's (Thomas) history bit by bit, like peeling back layers of an onion. While Thomas is predictably solid in her portrayal of Juliette, fresh out of prison after 15 years, Elsa Zylberstein's role as the generous, good-hearted younger sister is the surprise of the the film and the two of them develop a dyamic that could only exist between family members who are essentially strangers.

"Happy Go Lucky"

I've already raved about this one enough, so I'll just say that if you still haven't seen it, GO NOW.

"Slumdog Millionaire"

Indian film comes out of Bollywood and into its own with this moving, sometimes humorous portrayal of Jamal, a "slumdog" from Mumbai who is working his way up the ladder in the Indian version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" The film cleverly uses the questions in the game show to reveal details of Jamal and his brother's history.

"Ghost Town"

This is a bit random and I'm not saying that this is Oscar material, but the movie "Ghost Town" was actually a really fun surprise. It's probably one of the worst possible names for this movie, but the film itself was pretty good, mostly owing to Ricky Gervais and his portrayal of a semi-reclusive NY dentist. One of the funniest parts of the movie is a short series of scenes with Kristen Wiig as a surgeon, portraying a character worthy of her SNL roots. I saw this on a flight to New York, so being a completely captive audience may have contributed to how much I like the movie, but if you see it for yourself, you'll see that behind the clever humour, there is a great premise that really makes you think.

And finally, my other movie-going tip (when you're NOT on an airplane) is that if you request a "kid's pack" at the snack counter, you get a small soda, just the perfect amount of popcorn and a tiny pack of candy, all for about $5 or $6. It's the best deal in town! And I've gotten over the embarrassment of asking for "the Kid's Pack, please" when I'm standing in front of the skeptical snack jockey with clearly not a single "kid" in my charge. Hey, last time, I got a Madagascar bobblehead on my soda lid to take home with me!

Growing Up Skipper

2008-12-19T20:33:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week in one of our team meetings, we got a little distracted talking about toys we had as kids and as you would expect in a room of five women, the conversation eventually drifted around to Barbie. Most of us had been into Mattel's star creation in some way, and we compared notes on our experiences. Jess noted that she chopped off Barbie's hair and eventually just popped her head off "to see how she was put together". Albee also remembered "Darci", Kenner's answer to Mattel's blonde heroine.

I always really wanted my Barbie to have boyfriend, but I never did acquire a Ken doll, so she was destined to remain an independent woman, cruising around in her pink Corvette and taking the occasional road trip with the girls in the orange RV with the pop-out side canopy. One year Barbie got a dog for Christmas (an Afghan with long flowing hair just like his mistress) and another year, she got a horse. Her assigned profession evolved over time from a lawyer to an actress to a professional barrel racer (the latter being short-lived and only spurred by the arrival of the horse and a pretty hot wardrobe of rodeo wear).

In an attempt to introduce Mr. Right into the scene, my next door neighbour would occasionally bring over his GI Joe's, but that never really went very well. Joe didn't have much of a wardrobe and Barbie got bored pretty quickly with his army fatigues. He also refused to ride in the Corvette (lest he look like a sissy when the other Joe's spotted him cruising down the carpeted hallway in a pink convertible), so he and Barbie didn't go out that much. He never brought his own wheels with him either and Barbie started to wonder if he was really just a wee bit of a dead beat. Ultimately Barbie and Joe drifted completely apart and went their separate ways. (We think he continued to pursue an armed forces career for quite some time.)

As we were reminiscing about Barbie and the ever present controversy that surrounds her and her Jessica Rabbit bodily proportions, a couple of us remembered also having a Skipper doll who was meant to be Barbie's younger, prepubescent sister. Skipper was about an inch and a half shorter than Barbie and her feet were molded so that she could only wear flat shoes and boots (compared to Barbie whose permanently arched feet just invited the presence of sexy stilettos.)

(As an aside, it just occurred to me that Barbie is probably the key reason I have always walked on my tip toes when I don't have shoes on... )

But back to Skipper.... I piped up and said "Oh yeah, and remember how you could turn her arm in its socket and she would grow about an inch in height and she would suddenly "develop" in the chest area?"

The rest of the room looked at me blankly and then burst out laughing: "What kind of dolls did you HAVE in Canada??"

Skipper was first introduced in the mid-60's to address the "sex symbol" controversy that surrounded Barbie. There were a number of Skipper concepts introduced to market, including: Bendable Leg Skipper, Twist & Turn Skipper, Sunset Malibu Skipper and even Japanese Skipper. (Barbie's family must have adopted Japanese Skipper.)

Then in 1975, Mattel introduced "Growing Up Skipper" and THIS was the very Skipper that made her way into my toy box and into the makeshift Barbie condo that I created on my Dad's pool table. The packaging said "Make her grow from a young girl to a teenager in seconds!" and sure enough, when you rotated one of her arms, she did exactly that.

I don't remember having any negative or confused reactions to Skipper's changeable body proportions (I was more disappointed that she didn't fit into Barbie's clothes and that she couldn't wear high heels), but Mattel sure took a beating in the press for introducing a doll that visibly went through puberty just with the twist of an arm. But honestly, is that really any worse than the dolls you can feed and they will "make doody" in their dolly daipers?

From Me to You at 37,000 ft

2008-12-16T17:43:00.001-08:00

At this very moment, I am hurtling through the air at 500 mph+ speeds in little more than a giant tin can with about 200 other weary travelers just like I've done countless times before. The key difference on this trip, however, is that I am finally on a flight with in-flight internet access. Sweet!

So, while I'm cruising along somewhere over Ohio, I really have nothing significant to share except for the fact that I am, well, cruising along somewhere over Ohio. While blogging. (And emailing and twittering etc etc etc.)

There seemed to be a tinge of sadistic glee in our flight attendant's voice when she announced back in New York that the flight to San Francisco would be six and a half hours. SIX AND A HALF HOURS. (That after an hour of quality time with the JFK tarmac and de-icing crew.) It was only 4 hours and 40 minutes to fly TO New York on Saturday, so these nasty head winds are just downright cruel. I could have flown to London instead! Blimey!

But here I am on AA #177 taking the blogosphere to a whole other level.

Momofuku Ssam Bar

2008-12-15T04:55:00.000-08:00

Dinner at Momofuku Ssam Bar in the East Village on Saturday night:

-- Steamed Buns (pork belly, hoisin, cucumber, scallions)

-- Edwards' Wigwam Country Ham

-- Satur Farm's Fried Brussel Sprouts (with mint, scallions, and fish sauce vinaigrette)

-- Pumpkin Chawanmushi (Grana Padano, kelp, pepita)

-- Sichuan Beef Tendon (with green mango and peanuts)

-- Spicy Pork Sausage & Rice Cakes (with Chinese broccoli, crispy shallots)

And as if that wasn't enough, after dinner we went next door to Momofuku Bakery & Milk Bar and proceeded to test out almost every dessert on the menu, including Strawberry-flavored milk which was unbelievable. (Next time, I want to try the Cereal-flavored milk -- it's meant to taste like the milk that's leftover at the bottom of the bowl once the cereal has all been eaten.)

All Before 7 a.m. on a Saturday

2008-12-15T04:52:00.001-08:00

My alarm went off long before the sun came up this past Saturday morning to kick-start my day of traveling to NYC. I threw my stuff into the car and headed up to the airport before the birds were even stirring.

It all started in the terminal at SFO. I had just purchased a bottle of water for the flight and was making my way out of the newsstand store when I heard “Excuse me, miss!” I stopped and turned, thinking maybe I had dropped something. Instead I was greeted by a guy with a slicked back pony tail, bolo tie and Sherpa vest. In a very zen-like way, he explained “There is a higher power that tells me that when I see a stranger twice within a few minutes, I must go and introduce myself to them.” I could barely refrain from responding, “Well, then airports must be an absolute field day for you then, huh?”

I smiled politely (I think) as he peeled one of his cards from the stack in his palm and said “I saw you in the security line and was going to give you a card then, but you were busy”.

Now let’s just stop here for a second.

He was going to give me a card back in the security line when he FIRST saw me? Wouldn’t that have been in violation of his Higher Power’s recommendation that he wait until the second time? Honestly, please think your pick-up lines through fully before releasing them on the unsuspecting public. I watched every episode of Matlock growing up and I can spot those inconsistencies a mile away. If he were a movie, that would have been a jarring continuity issue.

But not wanting to risk further conversation and engagement, I thanked Rico Suave and proceeded to my gate. 15 minutes later, they are doing the final call for a Dallas flight and he sprints over to where I am sitting, thrusts out his hand to shake mine and says “It was so great to meet you! I hope to see you again!”

A few of the people sitting around me in the waiting area smirked knowingly as they subtly glanced up from their newspapers and cell phones.

Rico dashed off to his gate and was the last to board before they closed the doors. I suppose I should be flattered that he almost missed his flight just so he could come and say good-bye to me, but mostly I just think he’s a little bit dim for taking that chance.

Once on the plane, I was blessed with two screaming children directly in front of me. They were screaming when they boarded, fought against their parents as said parents attempted to secure them in seatbelts, continued to scream and throw themselves against their seats, the floor and any other object unfortunate enough to be in their orbit for the next 4.5 hours. (Damn, those kids had some stamina. I thought for sure they’d wear themselves out an hour or two in.) Not only did they continue to cry and carry on, but they also began coughing in every single direction – one of those raspy, phlegmy kinds of coughs that you know has its roots in some nasty bug. I scrambled for my Airborne (and more importantly, some Tylenol PM for the little darlings.)

And finally, to complete the trifecta of randomness, the woman seated next to me pulled out her cell phone as soon as she sat down and remained on a call the entire time we were at the gate, crying and cussing and telling someone on the other line “he lied to me!” and then “he’s 42! He should know better!” and then “it’s like I’m a doormat with no feelings!”. But within the space of about 10 minutes she had changed her tune (but was still bawling) and now was seemingly defending the lying 42-year old scumbag with “that’s not fair! He didn’t mean that! He’s not that bad!”

American Airlines flight 24 to JFK. My own personal Twilight Zone. How much can one person really take before the sun has even come up?

Cyber Shop 'Til You Drop

2008-12-09T22:42:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. The holidays are in full swing and it's at this point in the season when my heart goes out to USPS mail carriers who not only have to carry their weight in shiny, glossy catalogs, but who also have to schlep around ten times the normal volume of boxes and packages as the internet generation (and then some) does much of its Christmas shopping online.

I enjoy shopping as much as the next girl, but at this time of year, I'm quite happy to peruse virtual store aisles instead of battling harried shoppers in the real world. At home with my laptop, I can be in my pajamas (or not), with a glass of wine (or two) armed with nothing more than a mouse and a credit card and I can literally have the bulk of my shopping done without ever leaving the house.

I am, however, encountering a few snafus this year which are derailing my uber-efficient virtual St. Nick persona ever so slightly.

As I settled into my little home office on the evening of Cyber Monday to take advantage of all sorts of great deals and coupons, I landed on Banana Republic's site, having been lured there by promises of 40% discounts AND an additional 10% Cyber Monday discount. Many of the price cuts on the site were only good for Cyber Monday and would expire at midnight. Now, I will admit that at Banana, I wasn't strictly limiting myself to looking for gifts for others... I was quite open to the possibility that as I looked for a cozy sweater for Special K, that I might (just might) find a pair of shoes (or two) that I really needed to add to my closet.

And indeed I did. I added said pairs of shoes to my shopping cart and continued to browse. Much to my shock and dismay, all of the items in my shopping cart reverted to their original (and NOT on sale) prices at exactly 9:00 pm PST. 12:00 am EST. Darn it! Cyber Monday should end in the time zone within which you are actually shopping, not a time zone that is 3000 miles away! I'm sure I could have called BR's customer support and they would have honored the sale prices, but I figured there was probably a bigger message here that was something like "Serves you right! You should be shopping for OTHERS right now!" (But I will still monitor those shoes and snap them up the second they go on sale again!)

Then tonight, I was attempting to order something for my mom and dad, but from a Canadian retailer so that I could have it shipped directly to them without having to worry about duty and customs. This Canadian retailer would not allow me to use a US billing address online. I tried calling their 1-800 number because by now, I was pretty committed to the purchase, having researched the item, read the reviews and even watched a video about it. TigerDirect.ca made the fatal error of putting me on hold and leaving me there for minutes (WAY too many minutes) and I finally hung up, still gift-less and with my credit card feeling nakedly inadequate for international commerce.

Big sigh. I think I'm going to have to don the body armor and shields and head out into the war zone that is otherwise known as The Mall.

God Bless Elizabeth White

2008-12-04T22:51:00.000-08:00

We received this email in our "advertising" alias inbox at work. God Bless Elizabeth White -- now I don't have to wonder where I'm going to generate next year's revenue!

Dearly Beloved -

My name is Mrs. Elizabeth White; I am a dying woman who has decided to donate what i have to you/church. I am 69 years old and i was diagnosed with cancer immediately after the death of my husband 2 years ago, who has left me everything he worked for and because the doctors told me i will not live longer than some weeks because of my health, i decided toWILL/donate the sum of $5,850,000.00 (Five Million Eight Hundred FiftyThousand US Dollars) to you for the good work of humanity, and also tohelp the motherless and less privilege and also for the assistance of the widows.

I wish you all the best and may the good Lord bless you abundantly, and please use the funds well and always extend the good work to others. Contact my lawyer:

Mislata Law Firm
Abogado De Justicia
Calle Embajadores, 106.2, Madrid, Spain
Legal Practitioner & Solicitor David Hanson
Phone/Fax: +34-63-417-7834
Email: abogadodhan@gmail.com

And tell him that i have WILLED ($5,850,000.00 US Dollars) to you and ihave also notified him. I know i don't know you but i have been directedto do this. Thanks and God bless. I will appreciate your utmost confidentiality in this matter until thetask is accomplished as i don't want anything that will jeopardize my last wish.

God bless you,
Mrs. Elizabeth White

My Home and Native Land

2008-11-30T18:02:00.000-08:00

I'm just back from a few days north of the 49th where I escaped for a bit of a break over the Thanksgiving holiday and used the time to catch up with both family and friends. The more I go back to Canada (and hence the longer I've been gone), the more I appreciate what a unique and special place it is. I love being reminded of all the little cultural nuances that are newly fresh to me after having been in the US for so many years now.

Here's a sampling:

-- I ordered a sandwich and was asked "white bread or brown bread"? I'd forgotten that we say "brown bread" instead of "wheat" or "whole wheat".

-- We put our windows on "opposite ends" in the warmer months when it starts to rain outside. The double-paned storm windows can be opened so that fresh air can snake its way inside, but the rain won't. I've never once heard this expression in the US. Come to think of it, I've never seen the same kind of windows that can accommodate "opposite ends" either.

-- We park in a "parkade", not in a "parking garage" or "parking structure". (Honestly, my American friends, please adopt "parkade" -- it's so much shorter and easier!)

-- Canadian hockey announcers use words like "chippy" to describe a team that's hitting particularly hard and often.

-- Everyone knew what I meant when I referred to my "runners"!

-- [Almost] everyone is uber polite and friendly whether it's the hotel concierge, the cashier at the drugstore, the waiter at The Keg or just random people in shops and on the streets. I never hear "pardon me", "excuse me" and "sorry" as much down south. (And in Canada, it's more like "so-rry" instead of "saw-ry".)

O Canada --The True North strong and free!

Happy Go Lucky!

2008-11-25T23:32:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you walk out of a movie theatre absolutely blown away by what you’ve just seen, either because the story was so engaging, the characters so alive and compelling or the dialogue so fresh, clever and witty. Not often, but sometimes you can even find a film that brings all of these elements (and more) together into a true cinematic tour de force.

Special K and I both walked out of the theatre last weekend after having seen the British film, “Happy Go Lucky”, feeling like we had just had exactly that experience.

This is SO much more than just the “feel good” movie of the year. Sally Hawkins deserves an Oscar nod for her portrayal of the ever-optimistic Poppy, whose undying positive outlook gets on the nerves of many of those around her. In the opening scenes of the movie, you’re not sure what to think of her because she’s so quirky, but by the end of the movie, you wish she was your best friend.

Eddie Marsan also delivers a perfectly tense and anguished performance as a London driving instructor cum conspiracy theorist/uber-pessimist. The juxtaposition of these two characters illustrates just how important perspective is and reminds us that life is too short to be unhappy.

I can’t recommend this film highly enough. In these tough economic times, the key messages of this film are very timely and refreshing. And even if you don’t want to see the film at such an analytical level, I guarantee that Poppy’s antics and witty repartee will make you double over with laughter.

And that’s definitely worth something.

Cruz-ing on a Sunday Afternoon

2008-11-22T12:07:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday, I had an itch that needed to be scratched. I was feeling penned in. I needed to get out of Silicon Valley and stretch a bit. I hadn’t thought about it until the following Monday when one of my colleagues remarked, “wow, you felt like you had to get away – but you’re hardly ever even here.”

Special K refers to this as my ongoing restlessness. I prefer to think of it as my own personal tribute to Newtonian physics: “A body in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by some outside force.” I’m just the larger, more obvious embodiment of all those vibrating atoms and molecules that comprise my rarely-at-rest body and mind. (For the record, the only “outside force” that has been able to regularly cause me to illustrate the corolloary to this law of motion, “A body at rest stays at rest”, is Special K, primarily when we are curled up together on the couch, drifting off for an unplanned mid-day nap. But I digress.)

Back to last Sunday… I enthusiastically caved into my restlessness and jumped in the car and headed south to Santa Cruz. I’d never been before, but I’d read a few things that made me curious about the seaside town where Ferrari-driving yuppies and tofu-eating bohemians peacefully co-exist in their own little slice of beachy paradise. Santa Cruz also seemed to have a kind of interesting, albeit non-traditional history, really coming into its hippie-self in the 60’s when the University of California system dropped anchor on what would become the UC Santa Cruz campus.

It was a gorgeous day in NoCal and it seemed like the perfect day to hit the beach. I took a sweater thinking it would be cooler by the water, but I ended up leaving it in the car because it was over 80 degrees. I pulled off the winding highway that leads to the small town and eased my way through the quiet late Sunday morning streets until I came to the water … and the Beach Boardwalk.

The Beach Boardwalk is NoCal’s answer to Coney Island. It’s a stretch of beachside amusement park, packed with arcades, games, a rollercoaster, merry-go-round, fun house and no end of kiosks selling more types of food on a stick than you ever thought possible. A fun place for families with small kids for sure, but it also smacked of the sort of seediness that only idle teenagers in their hoodies and Vans can bring to a scene.

I wandered along the Boardwalk towards the wharf and made my way out over the water, passing by a number of small shops and restaurants. I started to hear a vaguely familiar sound – almost like horns, but at irregular intervals and from more than one source. As I got a few steps further, the bleating got louder and recognized it as the barking of sea lions. I scanned the water for any sign of them, but didn’t see so much as one slick little head peeping out from the surface. But every step I took, the barking got louder and louder. Then I realized that they must be UNDER the wharf.

When I rounded the corner of the last little building on the pier, I came across three sections that had been cut out of the deck of the pier, outlined with railings so that people could lean and look down and watch the sea lions slumber on the wharf’s cross-beams, slip in and out of the water and of course, bark at one another. I watched the various characters for the better part of 45 minutes and also managed to get *this* close to multiple pelicans who would alight on the railings in search of scraps from the fisherman who cast their lines into the ocean below.

Next, I climbed West Cliff Drive, one of the most gorgeous coastal drives I’ve seen. This well-known street winds its way along the top the cliff and separates some unbelievably beautiful homes from the Pacific Ocean down below. The surfers were also out in full force, enjoying some great waves.

Santa Cruz truly lives up to its identity as a town of juxtaposition. West Cliff Drive with its million dollar-plus homes and luxury car-filled garages is literally just half a mile from the battered 50’s style motels that dot the streetscape across from the boardwalk, right where a Rastafarian-esque busker strums a guitar, seemingly less concerned about the money he’s collecting than he is about how his sleepy, slightly skinny mixed-breed dog seems to be enjoying the fruits of his latest song-writing efforts.

A few hours and a couple of snacks later, I climbed in my car and made my way to the highway, pointing myself north back to the Valley, still warm from the sun, happy because of the sea lions and pelicans and decidedly less restless because I’d followed my nomadic urges, even if just for a 30 minute jaunt to the beach.

Rouge ou Blanc?

2008-11-16T20:24:00.000-08:00

What a glorious weekend in the Bay Area! Unseasonably warm temperatures and lots of sunshine - it's enough to make me momentarily think that I'm actually in SoCal instead.

Yesterday, I headed up to San Francisco to meet Nick and Brandon who were in town from New York. Very exciting because I hadn't seen Nick in ages and this would be my first opportunity to meet the much-talked-about Brandon. Also, coincidentally, Jena and Eric were in town this weekend too and although completely unplanned, both sets of friends were staying at the hip Hotel Triton. (Quick history: Nick, Jena and I all used to work together in NYC. Nick and Jena still work together, but at a different company now.)

We planned to meet at the wine bar, Rouge & Blanc, next to Hotel Triton for drinks, appetizers and to catch up. Unfortunately, I didn't have Jena's cell phone number with me (it, along with dozens of others, never made the migration from my old phone to my iPhone, darn it) and so we completely missed each other, but Nick and Brandon made it and we had a blast catching up and enjoying both rouge and blanc to their fullest.

And luckily, I got Jena's phone number from Nick and now we've re-connected and will still hopefully see each other before she and Eric head back to NY. So much fun to see some familiar faces from the east coast!

Things That Are On My Mind At This Very Moment

2008-11-15T12:26:00.001-08:00

-- How did it get to be November 15 already? It's practically Christmas. In fact, I'm newly amazed at where this entire YEAR has gone.

-- How long can I get away with not putting my license plates on my car?

-- What will the fate of General Motors be and how will that impact everything else? Stay in cash for a while longer or take advantage of low stock prices?

-- How can it possibly be fair that I pay an exorbitant amount in taxes each year, yet I can't vote on anything. Taxation without representation. Some democracy.

-- Will the Calgary Flames ever win another Stanley Cup? (Will they even make it to the playoffs???)

-- What pushes someone to take such desperate measures that are at best unethical and at worst illegal and horrific?

-- Should I drive or take the train to San Francisco today?

Drive Like You Mean It

2008-11-12T21:55:00.000-08:00

I love to drive. Let me clarify that -- I love to drive when I can drive fast and when I don't have to deal with tentative, unfocused or just plain bad drivers. Not so much to ask for right? Actually, it seems to be a pretty tall order these days, especially when California streets and freeways are involved.

Having also lived in Los Angeles (and area), I notice that NoCal drivers move on average about 10 mph slower than SoCal drivers when it comes to open freeway driving. Even on city surface streets, I seem to regularly get stuck behind people who are consistently driving anywhere between 5 and 15 mph below the speed limit.

One of the biggest challenges with NoCal freeways are the merge lanes. They are short and an off-ramp lane is usually positioned about 25 yards after an on-ramp lane which means that cars are trying to get on the freeway at the exact same point that others are trying to get off. The result is rarely one of those TV commercial-inspired, perfectly choreographed weaving of the vehicles in question, so that no one even has to touch their brakes, but everyone is able to smoothly drift into the lane they need and be on their way. No, the result is usually chaos, with slammed brakes, near rear-endings, the occasional horn and a shot of adrenalin just to keep you sharp.

One of the things that I really like about the Silicon Valley/San Jose area is the abundance of "expressways" that allow you to avoid the freeways but still allow you to cover good distance fairly quickly because of the limited number of traffic signals. I have just barely made countless flights out of the San Jose airport simply because I used Central Expressway to get to the airport instead of the 101. But the problem with most of the expressways is that it can be a challenge to get on them from the very short merge lanes that bleed onto them every half mile or so. I can't count the number of times I 've been stuck behind someone as they come to a complete stop in a merge lane. I guess maybe it's a combination of Type A personality traits peppered with a bit of left over New York impatience that propels me to accelerate, signal and just nudge my way into the passing traffic.

Many times, I sort of force the issue, I guess.

But sometimes you have to.

Trick or Treat!

2008-11-03T22:27:00.000-08:00

Last week, someone in the office asked (maybe a bit rhetorically), "When did Halloween become a full-fledged season instead of just a single day?" It did seem this year that Halloween was everywhere for a long, long time prior to October 31.

In the office, we had quite a festive time on Friday, complete with a pumpkin-carving contest, a mini ping-pong tournament and a power outage. Ok, so maybe the power outage wasn't all that festive (since it halted the ping-pong tourney in the semi-finals), but it did provide us with an excuse to view the carved pumpkins in the dark, with candles glowing from within.

Aldo won the prize for the best costume. You can check out a photo of it here at Posterous. Maria, Albee and I were doubled over laughing for ages because we thought it was so clever.

I "dressed up" by simply pinning a bag of Salt 'n Vinegar Lays to my shirt and voila, suddenly I became "All That & a Bag of Chips". I know, it's a bit cheesy, but it did get some good giggles. (Although I have to admit that I ended up having to make myself a little sign because some of my colleagues thought I was trying to pass myself off as a poor rendition of a vending machine.)

Special K flew in on Friday night to come and see me for the weekend ... when I picked him up at the airport, he had peel 'n stick numbers all over his shirt and pants... he was truly "someone you can count on". (We went for sushi after leaving the airport and our curious waiter finally asked Special K, "So, do you really like math or something?")

Last weekend, we had a Halloween party in Orange County that we were able to go to at the last minute, but because we had thought we weren't going to be able to make it, we hadn't really thought through the costume angle. We ended up going as "E-Male and His Attachment" -- Special K with a giant "E" emblazoned on his chest and me with large gold paperclips pinned all over my shirt and jeans.

You can bet that Special K didn't forget the attachment this time.

Go, P.J., Go!!

2008-11-03T21:35:00.000-08:00

Here are the couple of photos I promised from PJ's big day on Bingo America. Even "Al" looks genuinely thrilled and happy for our hero!

When I am 80 years old and sitting in a rest home, playing bingo in the big common hall, I will STILL remember G58.

And Bingo was his Name-O

2008-10-27T21:36:00.001-07:00

Our good friend, PJ, made the ultimate brave move last year when he decided to eschew the corporate world and pursue his real passion of acting full-time. Since then, he's been a busy guy, appearing on General Hospital Night Shift a couple of times, working as an extra on the production of "Angels & Demons" and picking up all sorts of great opportunities along the way.

It turns out that in LA, a lot of aspiring actors will take advantage of some of their down time by joining the studio audiences of various talk shows and game shows. The actors make a bit of cash and the show gets a full audience for each taping. It's a win-win situation for both sides.

Through this network of shows, PJ actually ended up as a contestant on Bingo America, a game show on GSN that is hosted by Richard Karn of TV's Home Improvment fame (he played Tim's sidekick, Al). They called PJ just the day before taping because they had a last minute cancellation.

PJ's episode of Bingo America aired last week and he nonchalantly asked Special K to tape it for him so he could see it the next time he visited. When I was in SoCal last weekend, Special K and I queued up the DVR and settled in to watch 30 minutes of a game show neither of us had ever seen, but which we thought was cool simply because we knew one of the contestants.

The game started out with PJ going head-to-head against another contestant, a cute girl named Amanda. (Both Special K and I thought PJ would never be able to concentrate, competing against a pretty girl!) PJ and Amanda competed to buzz in first in order to answer trivia questions (correctly) and gain points on the Bingo board. PJ won the first round, Amanda won the second round and it all came down to a showdown for the best 2 out of 3. PJ wins round 3! We say good-bye to Amanda and PJ is now on to the second phase of the Bingo America journey with $1300 in his jeans pocket.

This next step requires PJ to maneuvre his way through a five-step process by randomly choosing numbers on a giant bingo board that he hopes are "safe" (ie. there is some amount of money hidden behind the number). If the number he chooses is not safe, the host will unveil an image of a bomb, meaning that PJ loses everything he has earned so far. The numbers he chooses are standard bingo numbers: B5, I25, N42, G58 etc. With every step, the odds get increasingly more challenging, until PJ finds himself at the fifth and final level where his odds of losing everything are 2 in 3. By this time, he has earned $6500 and he can choose to walk away and keep that money. Or he can gamble against terrible odds and hope for more cash AND an opportunity to compete for a grand prize of $100,000.

Special K and I are now on our feet, yelling at the TV, "Walk away, PJ, walk away!!"

Most of the studio audience is yelling the same thing.

PJ decides to gamble.

He goes for it.

He asks for O75.

There is a 2 in 3 chance that he will lose everything.

The expose what's behind O75 and .... he's SAFE!! (and earns another $500!)

Special K and I are now jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.

Now PJ is ready for the final round. He stands with the host and faces a giant plastic see-through sphere with dozens of balls flying around inside (think of the machines they use to toss the balls before they announce the lottery numbers).

This final stage of Bingo America is purely a game of chance. If one of the numbers that PJ chose in the previous round as he was picking his way around virtual minefields is the actual number that the lotto machine spits out, then PJ wins $100,000. That's right, $100,000.

Our hearts are pounding as the host stretches the suspense and anticipation to the max. We can barely stand it and we think we can see PJ sweating just a little bit.

I turn to Special K and say "If PJ won $100,000, he would have told you, right?"

Special K looks at me and doesn't say anything. We don't know what to think.

A ball drops out of the machine. The host asks his version of Vanna White to tell the audience what the letter on the ball is:

She replies, "I can tell you that it's a G."

G58. G58. G58. That's what PJ's G number was. What are the odds?

PJ looks like he is going to pass out. Special K and I feel like we're going to pass out.

After almost unbearable suspense, the host asks his Vanna to show the audience the ball.

G58.

G58???

Omigod -- G58!!!!!!

PJ just won $100,000!!! Special K and I were speechless. We stared at each other for many, many seconds, mouths agape, unable to even breathe. I finally managed to sputter "Call him! Call him right now!!!!" and as we finished watching PJ high-five the host and shout out to the audience, we got him on the phone and gushed at him from two different extensions, finishing each other's sentences and recounting every single moment of PJ's journey to Bingo America fame.

It turns out that PJ had to sign legal documents, promising not to disclose the outcome of the show until after its air date. And PJ taped the show way back in August! He has had to keep this massive secret to himself for over three months.

We are absolutely thrilled for PJ and both of us remarked how something like this reaffirms your believe that good things do indeed happen to good people and that this is a clear message that PJ is on the very path he's meant to be on and that this is a brilliant reward for him making the bravest move of all -- pursuing that which he's most passionate about.

We love ya, PJ, and we're your biggest fans!

(Note: I'll post a couple of photos in the next post -- didn't want the images to spoil the story!)

Sevens -- The Update

2008-10-27T18:16:00.000-07:00

So, the jeans that mysteriously made their way back to Special K's house last weekend were indeed my long lost pair of Sevens. Same cut, same pocket design, my size. But now they have faded to be about 10 shades lighter, the embroidery on the pockets is unraveling and they just have that worn, slightly pilly look that denim gets after having been around the block a few times. They're at the stage where they'd probably be my favorite pair of jeans had it actually been ME who got them to that stage.

Thank goodness SOMEBODY got a lot of use out of them over the past two years.

And I guess the upside for me is that now I have a groovy pair of painting pants. Add a beret and I will be the chicest painter in Silicon Valley!

The Case of the Missing Sevens

2008-10-20T22:34:00.000-07:00

When you live a bi-coastal lifestyle, there are bound to be casualties ... you are certain to misplace things and leave things behind either in hotel rooms, in your apartment on the other coast, or at your boyfriend's place in yet another location.

When I first moved to New York over two years ago, I left a few things behind at Special K's house. There were a few boxes in the garage that I knew I couldn't take to my shoebox-sized apartment in Gotham and since I was moving in the fall, I also left a decent amount of warm weather/summer clothes behind. One of the clothing items I left in California was a pair of cropped Seven for All Mankind jeans.

On a return trip to California not long after I moved, I remember looking for the cropped jeans because I wanted to wear them, but couldn't find them anywhere. Special K and I looked high and low but didn't find the jeans. We checked every closet, cupboard and dresser drawer -- nothing.

Finally, he scratched his head and said "You must have taken them to New York with you". Since I'm a girl and have a photographic memory of exactly what I was wearing on ANY and ALL important dates/moments with Special K, I was acutely certain that I had indeed been wearing the cropped jeans on my last day in SoCal, precisely because I knew I wouldn't need them in NYC for months because winter was on its way.

I couldn't fathom what could have happened to these jeans! And I was NOT happy about the fact that it had to have been a $150 pair of jeans that were the ones to go missing. (Don't tell my mom about the $150 -- she raised me to be a smart, frugal consumer!) In any event, over time, I gradually accpeted the fact that the jeans were gone and hoped that one day, we'd discover them in some random place, smack ourselves on our foreheads and exclaim "Of COURSE that's where they are! Why didn't we think of this sooner??" It actually got to the point where any time I'd misplace something, Special K would casually remark "You can't find it? It must be with your jeans."

So, fast-forward almost two years exactly and I have now completed my NY tour of duty and am freshly settled in NoCal.

In the meantime, a friend and business colleague of Special K's had relocated to SoCal (at about the same time I went east) and while he was getting settled in his new job and looking for an apartment, he crashed with Special K for a couple of months. In that time, he managed to meet a woman who we would all later learn was not completely "there" and was just a teeny bit crazy in a very "Fatal Attraction" sort of way.

Long story short, it appears as though this woman, ahem, "borrowed" my jeans for the last two years and they just finally made their way back to Special K's house this past weekend when his buddy realized the situation.

I am headed to the OC this Friday night for a long anticipated reunion with my Sevens... AFTER they've been vigorously laundered and re-laundered.

Who steals someone else's jeans?? I guess I should just be thankful that she didn't hawk them on eBay for the cash.

K.O.'d!

2008-10-15T21:44:00.000-07:00

There is a bakery/sandwich shop just down the street from the office where we end up going quite often to pick up lunch because it's so convenient. Apparently we've been going a little TOO often.

Today, the girls went at noon while I was stuck in a meeting and I didn't grab my lunch until after 2:00 pm. When I showed up at the sandwich shop, one of the cashiers (a guy we see there quite often) says hi and then asks "Where are all your friends today?"

I told him they came at lunch when I was in meetings and then he remembered "Oh, that's right, all three of them came earlier."

And then he added, "You know, we've started calling you guys the Knockout Group".

Wow. Thanks... I think? When I got back to the office, I relayed this message to the girls and suggested we have t-shirts made. Maria had a much better suggestion that we parlay this new found admiration into free food!

Who says there's no free lunch?

Running Man

2008-10-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

If you've checked out my Posterous blog, you've seen the photo evidence of the Chicago Marathon and Special K's participation therein. This was Special K's 8th marathon (yes, EIGHTH marathon) and the Gods really made him work for this round of 26.2 miles.

For the second year in a row, Chicago set records in the heat department with temperatures skyrocketing to nearly 90 degrees. (You would think there would be more risk of driving rain and even an early snow in Chicago in October -- not that the city would have a heat wave that Phoenix would be proud of.)

The marathon organizers raised the event "alert level" to red, meaning that it was a set of extremely high risk conditions for runners. The next level would have been "extreme" where the event would have been canceled or stopped midway through. Some runners dropped out of the race due to the heat, many completed the final miles of the course at a walk, and the organizers actively encouraged all participants to slow their pace and take it easy. The fire department even opened up fire hydrants at various points along the course so that passing runners could be sprayed down.

The marathon itself is an event of epic proportions and I thought these stats offered a great snapshot of its size and depth:

Over 45,000 registered runners

10,000 race day volunteers

6,800 charity runners looking to raise more than $12 million

More than 100 countries represented

Over 1.5 million spectators

The course snakes through 29 of Chicago's neighbourhoods

I witnessed this at the NY Marathon a couple of years ago and it continued to amaze me in Chicago that people could focus on anything other than just putting one foot in front of the other for over 26 miles, but here's a selection of some of the fun (crazy?) things people ran in/as/doing:

A guy was dressed as Minnie Mouse with full polka-dotted dress and mouse ears. (No giant Minnie Mouse high heels, however.) He ran the entire race dressed like that.

Another guy was dressed as Elvis, complete with wig, sideburns, bejeweled disco jumpsuit and giant sunglasses. Imagine how hot and sweaty that get-up was!

Two buddies ran the entire race dressed as Batman and Robin. Sweaty part deux. And trois.

And most impressive, I saw one guy running near the finish line while juggling three small balls. The two girls next to me said they saw him miles earlier and he was juggling then, too. I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time!

But the coolest apparel item we saw was a t-shirt with the simple slogan "I run this town" emblazoned across the chest. Of course we bought Special K one of those!

Pre-posterous!!

2008-10-11T14:41:00.000-07:00

Between Facebook, Twitter, Yammer, this blog and Kaboodle (of course!), you would think that I've social media'd myself to the max and there would be no more room (or time) for any johnny-come-lately's.

Well, I'm a sucker for a better mousetrap and a couple of weeks ago, Guy Kawasaki introduced me to a site called Posterous.com. Posterous is a blogging platform that lets you post content to your blog directly via an email (and you can still post traditional updates via the web), meaning that I am now a mobile blogging machine because I can easily post from anywhere via my iPhone. (Yes, I treated myself to an iPhone -- I don't think I've blogged about that yet.)

I love it -- I'm in Chicago right now with Special K and Posterous will easily let me photo-blog about the Chicago Marathon tomorrow so I can keep you all up-to-date on Special K's progress.

Here's where you can visit my now post Posterous self: http://orsomethinglikethat.posterous.com/

And I Thought New York was a Small World!

2008-10-10T10:37:00.001-07:00

Turns out that Chicago is even moreso... at least for me. Within my first seven hours in the city yesterday, I ran into three people I know, all completely random and unplanned.

First of all, in my hotel, I bumped into one of our Publishers and one of our Associate Publishers (two separate "bumps"... they weren't even traveling together), both in town from New York, with nothing to do with my own reasons for being in Chicago.

Then, the most random "bump" was at a fun wine & cheese bar/restaurant last night that's actually managed by a friend of a friend of mine. Special K (who is running the marathon on Sunday, hence the main reason for the Chicago trip) and I had just been seated at our table and were still perusing the menu when I happened to glance up just in time to see a guy walk in to the bar area who looked an awful like someone who used to work at my old internet start-up way back in the day.

My brain processed "Gee, that guy looks like Eric... nah, can't be Eric.... How long has it been?.... do I really want the wine I just ordered?.... But Eric DID move to Chicago a few years ago for a new job.... that cheese plate looks good.... It MUST be Eric.... I better go say hi and find out for sure..." in about 1.5 seconds and I left Special K chuckling at the table (apparently, I had verbalized a little bit more of that train of thought than I realized) while I went to say hi.

Indeed it was Eric, he was shocked to see me and we have now made plans to get together for dinner with him and his girlfriend tonight after work!

It's a small world and gettin' smaller!

Should I Move Again?

2008-09-29T21:25:00.001-07:00

There is a road in Sunnyvale called "Easy Street". I'm thinking of relocating.

(By the way, best street name I ever saw in New York was "Stickball Hall of Fame Place". Seriously! I saw it on my way to the airport one day from the backseat of a towncar and emailed it to myself so I wouldn't forget.)

Space, The Final Frontier

2008-09-28T21:49:00.001-07:00

You know the rule about how the time to complete a task will expand to fill whatever amount of time happens to be available? It's the same rule that had us all cramming in college on the last night before an exam or a paper was due, even though we'd known about the deadline for weeks or even months before.

I think the same rule applies to space. Almost exactly one month ago, the movers arrived in NoCal with all of my stuff. The very same amount of stuff that fit (quite comfortably) into quite a tiny apartment on the Upper West Side in Manhattan. Barely 30 days later, my things and I have managed to ooze like jelly into every last room, corner and crevice of my new place -- which, by the way, is TWICE as big as my humble NY pied-a-terre.

In New York, I had a sink in my bathoom, but literally no counterspace save for a tiny strip of granite that ran behind the sink, up against the wall. In my new place, I have oodles of bathroom counterspace and suddenly, bottles and tubes and beauty accessories of all shapes and sizes have found their way onto the countertop to fill the open space and I have no idea where they all came from. They must be multiplying in the warm, sunny California climate.

I did buy a couple of pieces of furniture (like a desk and a kitchen table), but those aside, I still seem to have managed to occupy twice the space I had previously in record time. As I was re-arranging a closet today, I stood back, scratched my head and thought, "How did I ever fit this in my place in Manhattan?"

I'm definitely not complaining... it is such a treat to have a little bit more room. Excuse me while I go spread out and make pretend snow angels on the floor in my living room.

Road Trip!!

2008-09-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm back in California full-time, I'm also back behind the wheel on a daily basis and just over a week ago, I made my first semi-lengthy road trip in over four years. My new Nissan Rogue and I set out late on a Tuesday night headed for Santa Barbara, roughly 300 miles and 4 hours away. The drive down was in the dark and my focus was just on getting there, but when I drove back on Thursday, I left at 6:00 am and was able to actually enjoy the trek back to Silicon Valley.

A few observations from along the way:

-- No radio nor iPod is needed at 6:30 am when you are lucky enough to be driving right along the coast as the sun is coming up. Just me, the Rogue and the road... that was plenty.

-- Turns out that Santa Barbara Road is nowhere near Santa Barbara.

-- Gilroy does indeed smell like garlic.

-- And Salinas smells like onions.

-- Seeing the exit for Hearst Castle brought on a little twinge of nostalgia.

-- I don't know if it's a more laid back approach in NoCal in general or if my patience has taken on the characteristics of a true New Yorker or if it's a bit of both... but I implore all you CA drivers out there on the 4-lane 101, please, PLEASE stay out of the fast lane unless you are going at least 75 mph.

Ooh Za Za

2008-09-23T18:20:00.000-07:00

I enjoy a five-star meal just as much as the next person and I have been known to mmm and ah appreciatively while I enjoy something different and delightful to the palate like goat cheese profiteroles or pecorino-stuffed risotto balls with a wonderful glass of Joseph Phelps or Stag’s Leap. But while I can clean up well, dress the part and order pretty confidently in most places, I’m still an easy-to-please girl with simple tastes at heart. There’s just something about a great slice of pizza and a Coke from the fountain machine that hits that spot like almost nothing else can. Not all pizza joints are created equal of course, but when you do find a good one (please, no chain restaurants), you know exactly what I mean.

Special K is a pizza fan, too, so when we hear of a particularly good pizza place, we’ll make the effort to check it out. But unfortunately, the pizza gods have not been smiling on us lately. Three times now, we have either heard or read about the “best pizza!” in the city/county/borough/state and three times we have been thwarted in our efforts to test it out for ourselves.

Someone recommended Arturo’s pizza in the Village and we planned an entire New York day around having lunch at Arturo’s and then hanging out the rest of the afternoon in SoHo, doing some shopping. We even skipped breakfast because we were so looking forward to an excellent pizza lunch. Our mouths were practically watering when we stepped off the subway and made our way into daylight and down Houston to Arturo’s… only to find that Arturo’s isn’t open for lunch. They don’t open until late afternoon for the dinner crowd. Now uber-hungry, we settled for another pizza place around the corner and it was just fine. But we still never managed to make it to Arturo’s for even a quick slice of pepperoni.

The second incident was back in Orange County. PJ, JD and Dougie Fresh were staying at the house for the weekend and Special K had ripped out a story from one of the local magazines, touting a pizza parlor in the city of Orange as the best pizza in the county. The boys are all pizza connoisseurs and so we set off merrily (on Saturday around noon) for our latest ‘za quest. As we pulled into the parking lot, we immediately noticed the dearth of cars. And sure enough, when I jumped out to get a closer look at the hastily pasted, hand-written sign in the window, it said that the #1 pizza joint in the county would be closed that day. (We settled for Mexican for lunch, but it wasn’t the same.)

And the latest in the three-strikes-you’re-out series happened as Labor Day weekend approached and we were planning our trip to Phoenix. Co-worker Chris used to live in Scottsdale, so he gave me the low-down on a few good restaurants and then said “Oh, there is also a great pizza place in Phoenix that everyone loves. A guy wrote on Yelp that he drove all the way from LA to Phoenix for it, and it was well worth the trip.” Well then! Done deal, we’d make a point of hitting Pizzeria Bianco for lunch one day and test out its worthiness for ourselves. When I pulled up the web site, we saw the (predictable?) statement “Pizzeria Bianco will be closed for summer break from August 24 to September 15”.

Third time’s a charm? Apparently not in the quest for good pizza. But nice try, pizza gods, we are still NOT going to visit Pizza Hut or Dominoes. Ever.

Settling In

2008-09-21T20:29:00.000-07:00

I am slowly but surely getting settled in my new digs in Northern California and am also slowly figuring out how to find my way around (remember my internal compass is completely off up here) . I am still sans GPS, however, and so I still got lost twice this weekend, just turning the wrong way because I was SO sure that I had finally conquered the "Never Eat Soggy Weiners" equation as it applies to Northern California. Of course, my judgement was wrong each time and I spent a good amount of time making u-turns.

Friday night kicked off with a great dinner and visit with Sharon and Chris in Menlo Park, including a mini-visit with the Fox Terrier twins, Sam and Molly. Even at 12 years old, they are still full of terrier attitude although Molly has a doggy wheelchair to help her cart her failing rear-end around with her. That didn't stop her from growling incessantly at Sam from across the room.

Saturday was a day full of errands and "knocking stuff off the list" (Special K LOVES it when I get in that mode - actually, he is great at reminding me that Rome wasn't built in a day, and my rebuttal is that it might have been had I been consulted). After 5 hours of mostly not getting lost, I became very well acquainted with my neighbourhood Target (can never get out of that store without spending $100), the nearest drycleaner (a lovely lady named Joanne who used to live in Flushing, so we had stuff to chat about immediately), the closest Trader Joe's (yes, a package of Joe-Joe's did indeed find their way home with me) and a car wash that will probably become a semi-regular weekend destination.

I am mostly unpacked now, but I do still have a few home office type things (files etc) to stash away before I can truly say that I'm officially moved in and settled. But it's not bad progress considering I've still been on the road quite a bit the last few weeks.

As Sunday winds to a close and I'm mentally preparing for the week ahead, I pulled up Weather.com and checked the forecast for the week. I'd adopted the habit of checking the weather every morning in NYC in order to figure out what to wear, which shoes to actually put on my feet versus which ones to carry, what jacket (if any) to take and how likely it was that I would need an umbrella.

I smiled when I saw the outlook for this week -- every day is forecast to be sunny with a high between 78 and 82 degrees.

Weather.com is going to miss me.

Momentum Wears a Bright Yellow Shirt... and No Helmet

2008-09-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

One evening last week in NY, I was due to meet Nick and Reny in the lobby of their building at 8:30 so we could go walk down 9th and find something for dinner. I was running about 15 minutes ahead of time, so I decided to stretch my legs and make a bit of a walk out of it.
I was over on 10th Avenue and had just approached 55th Street. The light was red and the “Don’t Walk” sign was lit, but in true New Yorker fashion, I stepped out into the street anyway and looked up the hill to the left to see if any cars were actually coming.

That’s when I heard him… a few seconds before I actually saw him. Which is surprising because of the neon yellow dri-fit shirt he was wearing.

Just as I was about to cross the street, I heard “HOLY MOTHER F’ER!!!!!!!!” from up the street… I stopped in my tracks, having no idea where that was coming from and why. A split second later, I saw him – a rollerblader careening down 55th (ie. DOWN the hill) towards 10th, headed straight for the intersection, just as the light turned green and the cross-traffic began moving again. Mr. Neon Yellow skidded to the side, like hockey players as they angle themselves to slam an opposing player into the boards, fell and tumbled to the very edge of the intersection, missing the passing traffic by only a couple of feet.

I ran to him as he lay on the pavement, not moving and asked if he was ok, if he could move, if he needed me to call 911 (or anyone for that matter). He opened his eyes, raised himself on his elbows, shook his head and said “No, I think I’m ok.” He wasn’t bleeding and none of his limbs were sitting at weird angles, so I said “Well, let’s at least get you off the street” and tried to help him get up. Once I got him to his feet (er, wheels), he promptly fell down again.

By this time, a couple of other people had stopped to help (and who says New Yorkers don’t care??) and we managed to get our rollerblading buddy off the street, up onto the sidewalk and propped up against the side of the building. Again, we asked about calling 911 or getting a hold of a friend, but he refused again.

After making sure he had his bearings back, I headed up 55th and when I turned back to check up on him, I saw him sailing across 10th (with the traffic lights, thank goodness), his helmet-less head glinting under the street lamps and his arms and legs flailing in all directions. I think he yelled something else out, but I was too far away to hear it now. I can only imagine what the follow up to “mother f’er” might have been.

I don’t know who was watching over this guy to make sure he wasn’t killed, or even seriously injured, but whoever it was should really remind him to wear a helmet AND send him to Central Park where he would only risk crashing into trees and other rollerbladers.

It's Good To See You Again

2008-09-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

Last week, I was back in New York for a few days for business – this was my first trip back to Gotham since my 36-hour extended farewell in the middle of August. It was great to be back, but it also felt pretty strange to be staying in a hotel. When my driver picked me up at JFK, he confirmed “Headed to The Dream Hotel on 55th?” and I started to respond, “No, we’re going to West End and … “ before my voice trailed off and I remembered that I was not actually going “home”, but that I was once again a temporary visitor in the city that never sleeps.

Although I have reams of evidence that I actually did live in New York for two years, on this trip, it all felt like it had all been just a very vivid dream. It’s the same feeling I get when I’ve just returned from a vacation – the feeling of never having been gone at all. This time, it was the interesting contradictory sensations of everything being intimately familiar yet brand new at the same time.

On the day of my arrival, I had a late dinner with Nick and Reny at a random Italian place on 9th Avenue (“It’s the best in the city!” the host promised as we pondered the menu from the sidewalk – it turned out that the host had a great gift … for hyperbole.) The next day was full of meetings and work and I was more than happy to finally escape the office around 7:00 to join Ally, Oda, Nick, Dina and Kim for drinks at Ava Lounge and then dinner at Brasserie Cognac. (We settled on Ava after trying three other places that were either closed completely or closed for private parties for Fashion Week…I guess it was appropriate to wind up at an old haunt on my first trip back to the city.)

After a quick 48 hours, I was back in another town car heading for JFK… so glad to have been in the city, but just as glad to be heading “home” for real.

Special Day for Special K

2008-09-07T17:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to Special K! That's right, this is the momentus day on the calendar that is responsible for the delivery of Special K (and I don't mean the breakfast cereal, as you all should know by now) into this big old world.

The celebrations really started last night at Sangria in Hermosa Beach. Special K and PJ (accompanied this time by JC and IG) put on a little "First Fridays" show (on a Saturday) and in between renditions of "American Girl" and "Margaritaville", Howard busted out the birthday cake for both Special K and for Timber, another Septemeber 7 baby. At the stroke of midnight, we all raised a glass to the two birthday boys, and around 1:00 or 1:30, I herded half the band into the car and safely delivered them through a Del Taco drive-thru and then back to the Castle.

Today, the day kicked off with the Steelers first game of the season (Steelers killed the Texans), followed by a quick trip out to the beach.... who knows what the rest of the day shall bring!

Enjoy the baking soda, darling.

Whew!!

2008-09-07T09:33:00.000-07:00

Wow, what a crazy couple of weeks! I haven’t disappeared off the face of the earth, but I have relocated back to the West Coast (SF Bay Area this time around) and as a result, my summer has been a hectic mess of work, travel, and oh yeah, moving across the country. And in between all the moving and relocation stuff, Special K and I also jetted off to both Dallas and Phoenix. The former for his mom’s birthday and the latter for a Labor Day weekend getaway.

For approximately two weeks, when someone asked me “Where do you live?”, I replied, “Well, technically I’m homeless… “ because I had given up my apartment in NY, but hadn’t yet settled in NoCal.

While the movers have now made their way across the country and delivered my stuff, much of it is still in boxes lying around my new place because I’ve hardly even been there to unpack. I don’t yet have cable, internet nor phone because I haven’t been in town consistently enough to arrange for the cable/internet/phone company to come by. (Lack of home internet connection is really the primary reason for my parallel lack of blogging activity.)

But I am slowly getting settled and putting all the pieces in place to construct yet another new chapter of my life in yet another new location. Updates to come!

My Last Night in New York ... Make That New Jersey

2008-08-23T13:23:00.000-07:00

So after seeing Big Bird at La Fenice, I headed back to my [former] building to change into travel clothes, zip up my suitcase and catch my towncar to the airport. Although I never do this, something compelled me to call JetBlue and confirm that my flight out of JFK to Long Beach was on time. I just about dropped the phone when the automated computer voice said “Flight… Two-One-Seven has … been… canceled.” I had to press “replay” just to make sure I’d heard correctly.

Really? On my last day in NYC the last flight of the day to SoCal has been canceled? On the very day that the movers took everything away and I don’t even have a bed to crash on overnight? This was all very poetic (and predictable) in a warped Murphy’s Law sort of way.

I looked at my watch. 3:06. My car was due to pick me up at 3:30. Should I just cancel the car? Should I go to the airport with the hope of figuring something out once I get there? I dialed our corporate travel agent and within a few minutes, I had a brand new ticket on a new airline (US Airways), out of a different airport (Newark), in a different state (New Jersey), headed to a slightly different destination (Los Angeles) and with one connection (Phoenix). Not exactly ideal, but considering how many flights had been canceled due to the weather, I felt pretty fortunate just to have a ticket.

At exactly 3:30, I rode the elevator down (for the last time), hugged Leo and Nigel (two of the building concierges) good-bye and located my driver out on the street. As he threw my suitcase into the trunk, he said “All set to go to JFK?” I responded, “Nope! Change of plans – we’re going to Newark instead!” Without missing a beat he said “No worries, I could take you to Philadelphia if you wanted!” and we were off towards the Lincoln Tunnel.

When I arrived at Newark, my new LAX-bound flight was already running almost two hours late. Given that I had only an hour layover in Phoenix to begin with, I called US Airways and re-booked myself on the first flight from Phoenix to LA the next morning and then I called Marriott and booked myself a hotel room as close to the airport as possible.

Over the course of the next 6 hours, the US Airways gate staff in Newark would delay the flight another 5 times, each time adding 30 – 60 minutes to our anticipated departure time. Finally our aircraft arrived, but Mr. Murphy had diverted another plane with our intended flight crew to Albany for refueling.

Finally, at 11:00 pm, a sheepish gate agent came back over the loud speaker and said, “At this time, we are officially canceling Flight 352 to Phoenix”. A collective groan went up in the waiting area and one woman collapsed in hysterics.

I called a couple of hotel chains to try and get a room, but characteristically for New York, every room was booked. The Marriott Rewards customer service agent told me very seriously that there was a room at the Ritz Carlton Downtown in the city and it was a gorgeous 2500 sq. ft. suite with incredible amenities. We both dissolved into giggles when she said it was only $7500 per night. I told her I would have considered it for $6500, but $7500 was just a little too over the top.

I called JetBlue back again and had them scour their Saturday schedule for west bound flights. All New York-Long Beach flights were long since sold out and overbooked, but the agent was able to send me to Salt Lake City and then connect me through to San Diego where I would have to rent a car for a two-hour drive to Special K’s house in The OC.

It was now close to 11:30 pm on Friday night and I was staring at the very real possibility of either (a.) hanging around Newark airport all night (no thank you), (b.) going back to my now empty apartment and sleeping on the floor (less than ideal) or (c.) wandering around Times Square all night, pulling my last “all-nighter” Big Apple style (exhausting just to think about – besides, what would I do with my luggage?)

I called Nick on his cell phone, reasoning that if they were asleep already, the cell phone would be off and at least I wouldn’t have woken them up. Hallelujah! Nick answered on the second ring and soon, I was in a towncar, heading back into Manhattan where I crashed on Nick and Reny’s couch for the night.

Nick and Reny fed me a great breakfast and we even had time to take wee Ryan out to the courtyard for some soccer before I was due to catch yet another car bound for JFK. Upon arrival at the airport, I was not surprised at all to see that my Salt Lake/San Diego flight was already over an hour late. I finally got out of JFK at about 3:00 pm on Saturday afternoon and after a bit of a planes and automobiles adventure (no trains, although it was close), finally showed up on Special K’s doorstep at about 9:30 pm on Saturday night, roughly 36 hours after this whole adventure had begun on the opposite coast.

Escape from New York complete! And I look much cuter with an eye patch than Kurt Russell did.

My Last Day in New York

2008-08-17T18:30:00.000-07:00

As far as moving goes, Friday actually went fairly smoothly. There were a couple of hiccups, but nothing that derailed the process in any way. In spite of dealing with the logistics of moving, my last day in NYC was actually pretty great -- surprisingly so since I had mentally prepared myself for a gruelling day of potential nonsense beyond my control. (As it turned out, I wouldn't be disappointed -- the nonsense would come later (in spades) and as you'll see from my next blog entry, it was completely beyond my control.)

Quick review of Friday ("Move Day"):

At 6:00 am, I got up to shower, un-make my bed and get the last few things tucked away in boxes.

The movers were booked (and confirmed) to show up between 8:00 and 8:30 so that they would have enough time to load before I had to leave to catch my flight later in the day. The moving foreman finally appeared around 9:15 and the truck showed up an hour after that. They assured me that it wouldn't take long to load the truck and they were right -- they were pretty much done by 1:00 pm, even though they had to deal with a double-booked elevator and someone else who was trying to move in as I was trying to move out.

After tipping the movers and loading them up with various cold bottled drinks to take with them, I was left alone in my now empty apartment. I took a few minutes to remember the first time I saw this apartment when I first picked up my keys almost two years ago. It was empty then, too, but full of possibilities instead of mostly pleasant memories. What a difference two years makes and how humbling to realize that your presence hasn't made any structural, permanent changes and that the few marks that you did leave on the wall will just be scrubbed or painted away and that space will come the anchor for someone else's personal story very soon. As I thought about that, I dug a Sharpie marker out of my bag, got down on the kitchen floor and wrote "I Heart NY" on the bottom of one of the kitchen drawers. A little silly perhaps, but I liked the thought that a little piece of me will remain on the west side, at least until that kitchen is remodeled.

Because of the movers' efficiency, I had a couple of hours before my car was due to pick me up at the airport, so I headed out to grab some lunch. I was only planning to hit a deli for a quick sandwich, but as I was walking down Columbus, I slowed my pace as I walked by an Italian restaurant I had always wanted to try. "La Fenice" has always looked quaint, warm and inviting from the outside, but I had never actually been there for a meal. I went inside and sat at the bar and struck up a conversation with the bartender. Instead of a banal sandwich, I had ravioli neri with gorgonzola cheese cream sauce (I'm not due to check my cholesterol for another month or so, thank goodness!), a brilliant ceasar salad and a bread basket with a medley of different pastes and dips.

Now THIS was worthy of being my last lunch in NYC! When Peter The Bartender found out that I was moving that very day, he also treated me to dessert on the house, an incredible layered treat of mango and raspberry mousses.

When I was half-way through my lunch, an older couple came in and all the servers went over to say hello. Even Peter the Bartender left his station and visited the couple with the white, silvery hair for a few moments. When Peter came back to the bar, he leaned in and said to me "That guy is Big Bird on Sesame Street! They come in all the time!" My eyes immediately drifted to the wall space above the mirrors behind the bar where a plate was hanging with a hand-drawn sketch of Big Bird and the signature of Caroll Spinney. Peter saw my eyes go immediately to that plate (because I'd seen it as soon as I sat down) and he smiled and nodded, "Yep, that's him!"

I smiled at what a truly "only in New York" moment this was and how great it was that this should happen on my last day, at an unplanned lunch at a restaurant I'd never been in before.

Peter and the other servers wished me the best of luck and I headed home (for the last time) to change clothes and grab my suitcases. This is where the "nonsense" started. Stay tuned...

Please Don't Go! (Or "New York's Last Act of Desperation")

2008-08-17T18:15:00.000-07:00

New York, please don't stand in my way. We've talked about this. You know I have to leave. We're just not meant to be together long-term. I need to move on and put some space between us for a while. Your holding me back just makes the whole situation more difficult for both of us. You're so aloof and hard to get close to so much of the time, so I find it surprising that you're actually trying to hold on to me. (Frankly, it comes across as a little desperate, and it's not a side that I'd show very often if I were you.)

Haven't you ever heard the parable about the sun and the wind? Or the saying that if you love someone, you should set them free?

You know I love you, but preventing me from leaving on not just one, but TWO flights is just not cool.

Goodbye My Lover, Goodbye My Friend

2008-08-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

As I sit here, surrounded by boxes, less than 48 hours before the movers come, I'm reflecting on the last couple of years and feeling so content in knowing that not only did I actually have a great opportunity to live and work in New York, but that I also made the most of it -- exploring the city, learning this "new" culture, and building wonderful friendships. But as the last few things lie scattered around my apartment, waiting to be tucked away for the voyage westward, I know that it's time for the next chapter. After all, it's written right in the lyrics of Baz Luhrmann's "Sunscreen":

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. *

So, off I go to Northern California!

It's kind of like an athlete retiring at the top of his/her game -- leave while you still love it, aren't jaded and have sweet memories. (Um, Brett Favre? What the heck??)

Also, they are building another huge apartment complex behind my building and within a few months, it will be tall enough to completely block my currently unfettered view of the Hudson River. And a rather noisy Beagle moved in down the hall a couple of months ago and yodels at the most inopportune times.

And to top it all off, I just ran out of return address labels. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is.

* PS (I also lived in Los Angeles once and left before it made me superficial. Oh wait, that's not actually in the song.)

The NYC Farewell Tour

2008-08-12T17:03:00.000-07:00

As my last week as an official NYC resident marches on, I'm trying to see as many friends as possible before the movers descend on my apartment on Friday, ready to whisk my worldly belongings westward. (At least, I hope they "whisk" my belongings... but it sounds more like a painful, labored trudge across the continent -- it could be up to three weeks before I am reunited with my many boxes of random things.)

Yesterday, I had a great lunch with Esther and then rallied a bunch of folks for drinks and appetizers after work for my "see ya' later" get-together. We all convened at Amalia, one of our local haunts, just down the street and around the corner from the office. I did take a bunch of photos and once I find the box where I stashed my camera/computer cables, I'll be able to upload them. (Don't hold your breath -- we are at least three weeks away from opening ANY boxes.)

It was great to see everyone and catch up a bit, but a special thanks to Kim, Cortney and Oda -- you guys know why. :-)

Tourists Keep Right

2008-08-10T19:10:00.000-07:00

Hanging out on a lovely August evening with the gang Saturday night, sipping on Proseco and Cassis, the conversation bounced around a number of topics... in the space of a few hours, we managed to cover the Russians' invasion of Georgia, the Olympic games opening ceremony, the price of real estate in Manhattan (and the absolutely painful process of furnishing all necessary documentation for a loan), the impending birth of wee twins, and the history of the fake boob. (Yes, you read that right. We are a well-rounded group and can converse on many, many topics. We even had a doctor in our midst who interned with the son of the fake boob inventor.... pre-Dow Corning lawsuits.... at least I think that was the connection... the Proseco made my brain a tiny bit fuzzy by this point in the conversation.)

At one point, Nick and Gemma were comparing notes on where their new offices were located and it turned out that both of them were right in the thick of Times Square (about 10 short north-south blocks from where my office is/was).

They were lamenting (and everyone else was completely sympathetic) about how difficult it is to have an office in or quite near to Times Square because of the volume of tourist foot traffic. If you have been in Times Square, you know what I mean. It is wall-to-wall people there most of the time and if you have an actual destination that you are trying to get to, it is almost impossible to pop yourself out of the slow-moving crowds so you can walk briskly (like a good New Yorker) to your next meeting.

Our solution was that the sidewalks in the Times Square area should really be divided with a dotted white line (like a regular freeway) and every so often, there should be signs saying "Slower traffic keep right".

Tourists to the right, New Yorkers in the fast lane...

Things That Are Driving Me Nuts At This Moment

2008-08-07T20:54:00.000-07:00

-- The fact that Twitter is not updating on my blog. (And the fact that Twitter has updating issues on a regular basis.)

-- The fact that no matter what I do, I can't get rid of the double header on the the left side of my blog... and what's more, I have no idea what happened to even create it in the first place.

-- The fact that when my laptop falls asleep, it is harder to wake up than the big guy sitting in the aisle seat on the plane when you REALLY have to go to the bathroom.

-- The fact that there appears to be no rhyme nor reason why certain emails land in my Junk Mail folder.

"Yes, I love technology, but not as much as you, you see..."

Almost Famous

2008-08-07T20:41:00.000-07:00

I am huge at SNA and SJC.

No, unfortunately, those are not the must-be-in-the-know names of new, so-hip-it-hurts nightclubs. Those are the codes for the Orange County and San Jose airports respectively. I have now officially been traveling too much.

This week, I arrived at the Orange County airport for my flight where the American Airlines gate agent recognized me immediately and chatted hockey with me for a few minutes. (We had commiserated when the Pens lost the Stanley Cup this past season.)

When I arrived in San Jose, I went to pick up my rental car and even though I had to queue in the lane next to his, my buddy Ranjit spotted me and gave a big enthusiastic wave. Before I knew it, he had bounded over to my car (abandoning his own line of cars waiting to exit the lot) and was rapping on the passenger side window. As I rolled down the window, he stuck out his hand for a hearty handshake and exclaimed, "Sheddy!! How have you BEEN?? Haven't seen you in WEEKS!!"

And finally, when I arrived at my hotel that evening after a day at the office, the front desk clerk looked up and said "Hi, Ms. Gunn, we've been wondering where you were."

Seriously, I'm going to have to start wearing giant sunglasses and a baseball cap before the paparazzi start hanging out in the office parking lot at lunch.

A Big Birthday Thank You

2008-08-07T20:28:00.001-07:00

I recently (as in, two days ago) celebrated a birthday and I have to admit that this one completely snuck up on me because my schedule has continued to be rather random and bi-coastal.

But I do want to extend a grateful thank you to family and friends who managed to track me down where ever I was via phone, email, Kaboodle, Facebook AND surprise me in a variety of ways:

- Big kiss to Special K who sang to me on Friday night (along with PJ), surprised me with an ice cream birthday cake (which PJ picked up), and sent me a beautiful bouquet of a dozen red roses.

- The whole Kaboodle gang who rallied for a huge company lunch at the local pasta joint. (Hit or miss on the food, but the company was great!)

- Special thanks to Cristina, Kristi and Brenda who treated me to tapas and caipirinas at Cascal where we always enjoy ourselves.

- Shout out to my grandparents who sang "Happy Birthday" to me in stereo on the phone and to my parents and the gang in Vancouver for all their warm wishes.

- And a HUGE hug to Brenda who has told me at least twice that I look like I'm 24. (I haven't the heart to tell her that she needs new glasses.)

Shop Til You Drop

2008-08-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

Somehow, I ended up on the VIP invitation list (as did hundreds of others, I suspect -- so I'm not really that special) for Gen Art's Shop NYC event which was held on 18th Street in the Metropolitan Pavilion last Wednesday night. I cajoled Oda into going with me -- ok, we're both shopping fans at heart, so I didn't have to expend very much effort "cajoling" her.

Gen Art is an organization devoted to showcasing emerging talent in the fashion, entertainment, music and arts arenas and produces over 100 shows each year catering to these areas. The Shop NYC event highlighted fashion works from 50 - 60 emerging design talents in everything from apparel to shoes to handbags to jewelry. The venue was packed with women looking for unique items (at a discount) and a few misplaced men who stood to the side looking appropriately bored as wives and girlfriends rifled through racks of tops and dresses and fingered handbags and jewelry on the display tables.

We did a hot lap to see what was there, glasses of Bailey's and crushed ice in hand. Once we had downed our glass of liquid courage, we through ourselves fully into the fray as well and emerged victoriously with a necklace each from Odette New York and tops from Yumi Kim.

By this time, we'd worked up a significant appetite and at Oda's suggestion, we popped in on Markt in Chelsea and enjoyed a late dinner of french onion soup (best I've had in ages) and salad. (Kathy, if you're reading this, I FINALLY made it Markt after almost two years! And you're right, it was fantastic!)

As all true Kaboodlers know, shopping (and dining!) IS more fun with friends!

Bittersweet

2008-07-31T07:52:00.001-07:00

Ah, today is my last day in my NYC office. (I'm technically not moving for another couple of weeks, but given my travel schedule, today was the day that I promised to pack up my office and move my stuff out so that the next person can move in.)

I have managed to cram everything I think I'll need in my new office in California into one box. One rather heavy box, but one box nonetheless.

I also just turned in my old laptop and Blackberry. (Have to admit that I'm kind of excited about being sans Blackberry for a while -- there is definitely such a thing as being TOO accessible.)

A quick list of what I will miss not being in the Broadway office any longer:

-- The chance to witness some of the crazy stunts that Letterman pulls off on 53rd Street (the Ed Sullivan theatre is right across the street; remember when he drops turkeys from the top of the building at T-giving etc? Those are the fun things you can stumble upon on a random afternoon.)

-- The chance to physically run smack into P Diddy yet again on the street

-- Popping in on Rupert at the Hello Deli

-- New England clam chowder from The Daily Soup (even on warm days)

-- Friday's pasta special from Cafe Metro (surprisingly yummy, especially with Tuscan meatballs)

-- Being mistaken as "someone" by aggressive paparazzi outside the Letterman stage entrance

-- Always being able to hail a cab at the corner of Broadway and 53rd within about five and a half seconds

-- And, of course, all of my great co-workers.... (who better come and visit me in CA!)

Hopscotch in Spanish! (or "Girls' Night Out")

2008-07-31T07:32:00.001-07:00

On Tuesday night, Ally, Stacy, Oda, Dina and I headed down to Allen Street to check out Rayuela ... it's Restaurant Week in NYC and Ally was on top of her game enough to actually get us reservations in advance.

On the back of the adorable, tiny, square business cards is the definition of "rayuela": (1.) spanish for hopscotch: a game played usually by children in which they hop into a series of squares drawn on the ground. (2.) a ray of light. (3.) an innovative novel by Latin-American writer Julio Cortazaar, based on the twists and turns of the game hopscotch.

I love it when there's a story behind the name.

We mostly ordered from the prix fixe Restaurant Week menu and sampled a variety of fare from chicken livers (not me!) to chile rellenos stuffed with lamb to fufu balls (still am not quite sure what those were) to a flan-like desert that had an olive tapenade base as a crust of sorts -- interesting to say the least and mostly everything was pretty tasty. Especially the TWO pitchers of Rosada sangria.

I also loved the design and decor of the restaurant. The first floor was the bar and lounge and featured an open staircase leading up to the actual dining room and patio on the second floor. We were seated in a cozy booth with gauzy curtains separating us from the tables on either side and had a perfect view of my favorite thing about the restaurant -- the huge tree that was growing out of the first floor and through numerous cut-outs in the second floor.

Another great night out with the girls with lots of great updates, laughter and fun (and sometimes crazy) stories. I'll miss you guys when I move!

TechCrunched

2008-07-27T08:31:00.000-07:00

What do I, MC Hammer, Chamillionaire and a about a thousand other tech/internet folks in Silicon Valley have in common? We were all at the third annual TechCrunch party/meetup at August Capital in Menlo Park Friday night.

The TechCrunch event is apparently *the* event of the year in the Valley, bringing together hundreds of key decision-makers from all sorts of tech companies, venture capitalists and the media. As one of my colleagues remarked early in the evening, it's the Hollywood of Silicon Valley. And looking around, reading the name tags of the attendees, that wasn't far from the truth.

Bringing a slightly more traditional Hollywood vibe to the shin-dig were Grammy Award-winning rap star, Chamillionaire, and music sensation turned internet entrepreneur, MC Hammer. I have yet to piece together the former's connection to this world of bits and bytes, but Hammer is behind the recently launched DanceJam social media destination site.

I can see why everyone looks forward to this event in particular -- it was a great networking venue and a excellent place to reconnect with people you haven't seen in a while. My company, Kaboodle, was a sponsor of the event and provided a mini photo studio complete with red carpet, to help revelers capture the evening for posterity. Check out the pic above of some of the Kaboodle crew with MCHammer... Can't touch this!

(You can see the rest of the event photos here.)

Is My Map Upside Down??

2008-07-23T21:22:00.000-07:00

I already know what my biggest challenge with Northern California is going to be -- it's not going to be trying to resist the call of wine country, or even the minimization of driving time/distance because of $4.50 per gallon gas...

No, it's much more pedestrian than that. I have the lofty goal of simply not getting lost.

I generally have a pretty good sense of direction and I don't really get lost all that easily, but NoCal is proving to be an entirely different story. My intuition and inner compass seem to be exactly 180 degrees off. I will swear that with every fiber of my body, I'll feel like I'm driving south, but I'll actually be heading north. I would bet my bank account that San Francisco is up ahead of me when it's actually disappearing further and further into my rear view mirror.

I don't know what it is. This is the first place I've been where I am constantly getting turned around, turning the wrong way, or getting on the freeway going the wrong direction. It's quite annoying. I did get a GPS for a couple of my trips (especially when I was looking for a place to live), but then this week, I got all cocky thinking "I know where I'm going now!" and then I promptly got lost again.

If they make a human equivalent of a dog collar that says "If found, please return to...", I better get myself one right away. Or I'm bound to wander the tree-lined streets of Mountain View for weeks.