Houseboat 2006

I can't keep track of how many houseboats I've been on over the years. I'd say more then 10, but less then 20. But perhaps 20. Maybe. They get hazier and hazier as I get older. Perhaps that's due to the alcohol consumption as I've gotten older. Up until I was, say, 21, the ratio of alcoholic drinks to skis per day was 0 to 3. Now, I'd say it's more like 6 to 2. I certainly don't remember doing much more then playing cards and water skiing when I was 10. I certainly don't remember much at all as a 31-year-old.

Houseboat 2006 was a lot of fun and it was so nice to be back after a 3 year absence. If you want the PG-13 (or R-Rated) version, you may want to check with Karin's Chronicles (just ask her what her catch-phrase of the week was), and if you want the pictorial version, you may want to check out Swiss Miss (she and Mr. B took over 500 photos between the two of them), but if you want my version (AKA Mingle's Meltdown) then please stick with me here...

The theme of the week was "Backflips!" Our new friend Tim joined us this year and was a crazy man when it came to special dives, jumps and leaps (in a chair) off of the houseboat. We caught on to his excitement and all tried doing backflips off the back of the boat. A couple of the braver ones did it off the top, but to my recollection none of us ladies did. I was impressed enough that I was able to do a backflip off the back of the boat without losing my swimsuit in the process.

There were lots of tumbles and crashes in the water as everyone spent the week wakeboarding, skiing, and surfing. Wait, wait - surfing? yes, that's right. One of the new toys this year was a small surfboard type thing that we tried out. Once you get up (which fortunately is quite easy) then you try to ride the boat wake as if on a surfboard. I particularly liked this one because I was not bound to the board and we traveled at very low speeds so falling usually did not hurt. I cannot say the same about the wakeboard however. I have not quite grasped the whole 'edge' thing, and caught the front edge real good, which led to huge face-plants - so hard it literally knocked me out of my boots. Twice. In a row.

My face-plants occurred on Tuesday and for the whole week after that I suffered different amounts of dizziness which continue even now. However, a visit to the doctor today confirmed that, NO, it was not a head injury. Somehow, I came down with a case of vertigo, which is a result of a virus in the inner ear. Unfortunately there is no medication for it, I just have to wait it out (hopefully no more then another week).

I was ecstatic when I learned on Monday that Mr. Mingle would be joining me up at the houseboat on Wednesday. Once he arrived, he joined us wakeboarding and surfing, but also spent at least 2 hours a day hiking. On his first hike he even came across a bear in the woods, which fortunately was more scared then he was and ran away. Of course this also prompted Krin to sing my famous bear song from Girl Scouts over and over again for the rest of the trip. "The Other day...the other day...[Mr. Mingle] saw a bear...Mr. Mingle saw a bear..." He was also the only one to spend any significant amounts of time on land and take photos from a perspective other then at lake level:

In summary, I'd say the following words sum up the trip for me: Butterflies, Backflips, Booze, Beauties, Falls and Fashion. We were on the lake for a full week with no shower, except for the natural bathing in a lake, so naturally we were bound to have beauties and fashion. Booze just masked everything, including falls.

Butterflies

Each morning these visited our front deck, sometimes up to about 30 at a time

Backflips

Krin gives the backflip a shot

Booze

Tim saves the booze!

Falls

Mr. Mingle is caught in the act of falling

Fashion

The men take home fashion awards this year

Mr. Obus shows us that no glasses or hat are too big

Mr. Mingle knows how to arrive with style

Beauties

Swiss Miss shows off her butterfly glasses

Mrs. Mingle has fun with her glasses

Sneak Preview

Mr. Mingle and I were told that our wedding would be featured in the next edition of the The Knot Magazine – Northern California edition, and I have been eagerly waiting to see what our “spread” will look like. We contributed to the story, but our photographer sent in all the pictures so we have no clue what will be in there. Last we heard, back in February, was that we would definitely be in the magazine and it is supposed to come out in July.

This morning Gonzaleska surprised me with a sneak preview and although it goes against my desire to share names, I cannot resist sharing this link…


The Mingles on The Knot

My Cubicle

I'm sure many of you have heard the constantly played James Blunt song, "You're Beautiful" on the radio, but have you heard this parody?

To my friends who are locked in cubicles on a daily basis, this is for you:

My Cubicle

Growing Up

Last night my “little” cousin graduated from High School. I don’t feel myself getting older until I see kids like J all grown up. And I say “kid” but she is 18. I remember changing her diapers with Fossie when we were just teenagers ourselves. That one night probably scarred us for life when we realized that little babies could cause nuclear explosions in their diapers. I remember J brushing my hair with awe and wonder when she was 3. I remember watching her and a friend floating around the houseboat when they weren’t much older. I remember going to a dance review, and middle school concert. But before I knew it she wore more make-up then me and was far more fashion conscious then I ever was or have been. J was always the youngest by far at family and friends events, which must have been pretty boring for her at times, but she never complained. She was also quieter then most of us and I think preferred just taking in the loud conversation around her rather then participating. After all, it can’t be very interesting for a high-schooler to hear the constant job talk, or the growing aches and pains of her elders.

Lately the big news was her Senior Ball and my fashion savvy cousin looked like a shining star. She had her dress picked out long before the dance occurred, and before she had a date. But she was confident. The Senior Ball lived up to all of her expectations and she glowed as she talked about that night. And then last night was graduation…

We all went, and fully expected to see her afterwards in her cap and gown so her self-proclaimed photo-crazy mom could get every shot imaginable. J with parents, J with Mingle, J with Auntie S, and on and on. But after the graduation she was not to be found. In a sea of 500 plus graduates it wasn’t surprising but we still canvassed the local area to find her and saw at least 450 of the kids. Finally she was located near the busses (and far from the football stadium where the ceremony occurred) that were to whisk her and her friends off to grad night. We have never seen J so excited or animated – it was obvious that photos were not on her mind – she was ready to GO. She was chatting amiably with friends and her big smile took up half of her face – it was wonderful to see her so happy. We all said our congratulations, forced her to put the cap and gown on for a few required photos, and then said our goodbyes as she ran back to her friends.

Next year she’s off to college to experience a new adventure, and while I am so excited for her, I really wish we could stop time. Because frankly, I don’t want to grow up!

Congratulations J!!!!!

Cabo San Lucas

A Mingle vacation would never be complete without a few unplanned mishaps. However, we Mingles like to look on the bright side and embrace these events whole- heartedly, since more then likely, they provide a lot of color and character for the entire trip. And, without these misadventures, what then my dear friends, would I have to write about?

Before I continue with the good and the bad (from here on known as “funny”), I would like to caveat this by announcing – that we had a fantastic time. That is no lie, Mr. Mingle planned a wonderful trip, and I would go back to Cabo San Lucas in a heartbeat – it was very, very difficult to come home after the nice time that we had. And now…let me take you back to the beginning…

Mr. Mingle planned a 4-night, 5-day trip for the two of us to celebrate our first year anniversary in Cabo San Lucas. We love to travel together, but we also appreciate good deals and he found one. Two things made our trip less expensive:

1) We transferred through Houston (thus adding 5-7 hours onto both our travel days)
2) Our hotel was half-built.

Okay, so the second might sound a little disarming, but we were fully aware of this before we arrived – he had checked out all reviews, and they were positive, despite the construction. What they lacked in building, they made up for in service. The detours through Houston were the biggest downfall of the trip. Not because we were in the air longer, or had layovers in Houston – because we can amuse ourselves and laugh through those - but because they lost my luggage. When we got to Cabo Thursday night, we watched them unload all the bags (it was a small plane) and we watched all the bags get taken away and the luggage cart shut down. Mr. Mingle’s arrived, however mine did not. I was immediately distressed by this because I had nothing to wear except for the clothes I had on and almost everything in the bag was brand new so I thought I’d lost it forever without ever having the chance to wear my new clothes.

On the ride to the hotel I was very sad, which made me even more upset, because at this point I should have been happy, after all, we were in Cabo San Lucas! As I said, we knew the hotel was half-built, so we were not surprised when the taxi drove off into a dirt road, past a half-structure and dropped us off in front of the finished portion by the beach. The lobby was one of the things not built yet, so instead, we checked in at a desk located in the restaurant. There we were greeted by a lovely woman who had good news – the airline had already called and said they found my suitcase which would be delivered late the following day. At that point both of us resisted the urge to leap over the table and hug the woman. Then she said, “I have bad news and good news…” oh..here it comes… “The bad news is we have run out of the studio rooms that you reserved, but the good news is we have given you a free upgrade to a one bedroom suite.” At which point, we were both confused about what the bad news was... “what does that mean?” we asked. That meant that we got a one bedroom suite larger then our apartment, complete with a kitchen, laundry room, two bathrooms and a balcony overlooking the beach. Suite? Sweet!!!

On Friday morning I woke up and was reading on a lounge chair on the balcony while Mr. Mingle continued to sleep. I was enjoying the view, the ocean breeze, and the construction noises in the background when I became aware of a clicking sound that seemed to be getting closer. I turned around and to my surprise found two Mexican construction workers hanging outside my 6th floor balcony hoisting themselves up the building. I quickly departed the balcony, but not without first getting a picture.

Since I didn’t have any of my beachwear, we killed the morning by attending a time share presentation for the place we were staying in and got free breakfast and some other stuff out of it, as well as discounts on our future activities for the weekend. However, we stuck to our guns and did not purchase anything even though they pushed and pushed. Later, I borrowed a shirt and shorts from Mr. Mingle and we walked along the beach to have lunch at The Office, which was supposed to be a fun place. It was obviously located in the party section of the beach. Everyone was tanned and gorgeous and walking around in their little suits with drinks in hand. I felt out of place wearing my husband’s clothes and not feeling glamorous in the least, not to mention we were, by far, the whitest couple on the beach. No worries though – it was just great to be there. My suitcase arrived around 3:00 so we quickly changed into swimsuits and went to the pool complete with a pirate ship in the middle.


On Saturday we had reservations for a snorkeling trip for the afternoon. We went to the wharf to catch our boat and discovered another really nice place in Cabo. The wharf area was beautiful and full of restaurants and fun places to hang out. We caught our boat which came with an open bar and a promise of lunch later in the afternoon. We had a long drive out to the snorkeling beach – probably 45 minutes or so, and I quickly realized that this was going to be a tough day for me. I stopped drinking after one beer when I started to feel seasick. I have never experienced such seasickness in my life… I kept praying that we would get to our destination before I got sick, and luckily we did. I was enjoying the snorkeling and being in the cool water, but still feeling a little queasy, until I accidentally swallowed a large amount of salt water which sent me over the edge. Let’s just say it was unpleasant and I won’t explain further, but luckily no one was around except for Mr. Mingle who was far enough away from me not to get hit… ok, ok, really no more. After that episode I thought I felt better and had some lunch before we took off again for the long journey home. But alas, it wasn’t to be. Some pirates say “yo-ho” when on a boat, but this Mingle said “heave-ho” right over the side. Oh so sick, and unpleasant. I could not wait to get back to dry land. Finally we made it back and somehow I was able to stand enough to get off the boat. It took me awhile to get my strength back, but a little ice cream and a nap helped immensely. The topper to this whole boat trip was the fact that the spray-on sunblock we had was not applied too evenly so the tops of my legs and knees got burnt, and my back looks like a jigsaw puzzle with the red patches asymmetrically appearing around strap lines.

That night I felt much better and was able to enjoy our best dinner out of the whole trip. Mr. Mingle had made special reservations at a boutique hotel called Casa Rafael’s and it was wonderful. The service was impeccable – I think there were 4 or 5 people waiting on us at any one time. There was also a music group playing – a small mariachi band, but with only guitars – no horns. There was a 13 yearold boy in this group who looked like he had been dragged along by his father to occasionally accompany the group with sound effects. All of a sudden, this kid broke out singing with the operatic voice that stunned us – we were amazed. He was also very cheesy and really hammed it up and we enjoyed his performance immensely.

Sunday was our busiest day. First we started off by getting massages and then we rented a sea kayak for two and kayaked out to a place called Lover’s Beach which was quite far away and only accessible by water. We were about a third of the way there when we realized they had sent us out without life jackets. “Oh well, Mingle is a good swimmer” we thought, and carried on. We made it out to the beach with no trouble until we got caught in a mini whirlpool trying to pull up to the beach, but fortunately we didn’t tip and the next wave came and pushed our boat to shore. We walked around this beach for a bit and checked out both sides – the Pacific side and the bay-side. Then we kayaked back. We took a quick break in the pool at a nearby resort where we found a swim-up bar and enjoyed margaritas and ice cream. (As a side note – these do NOT go well together). After this, it was off for parasailing! I have wanted to go parasailing for 14 years, and I was finally going to get my chance. First we were picked up from the beach by a taxi boat which then transferred us to a ski boat in the middle of the bay from which we would parasail. Some other people were already there and while one of them was up in the air we heard a loud crack and then a funny sound. We soon discovered that the fiber glass on the side of the boat had literally cracked in two places and a 4 foot piece of it was flapping around in the breeze. The parasailer came down without incident, but we were worried about the fact that it appeared we had a large hole in our boat. Their boss came out to check the boat out and deemed it unsafe to continue (thank goodness – because I wanted off), and then were put back in a water taxi and transferred to yet another ski boat. Finally I had my chance to parasail, and it was truly amazing. I thought I’d be really frightened, but once I was up there it was so peaceful. They drove us around the bay and I just floated in the air while taking in all the sites, Cabo Bay, our hotel, sea lion rock, the arch, Lover’s Beach…all from a bird’s eye view. I’m so grateful I finally got to go parasailing, and I would do it again.

After Mr. Mingle got his chance to parasail we then went back to our hotel where we relaxed for the rest of the late afternoon by our pool, and then finally into town for one last dinner.

This was an extremely long narrative and if you have read this far – thank you! I had every intention of posting pictures, but am currently having technical difficulties – so those are to come. Our trip was not without its blunders, but as I said in the beginning, all in all it was fantastic. It was so nice to be on vacation together, relaxed and away from work, if only we could have stayed for another week. Mr. Mingle has set the bar very high for our next anniversary.

The Anniversary Trip

"Dear Mr. Mingle,
Thank you for taking me to New York for our anniversary."

This was the note I wrote to Mr. Mingle about 2 months ago when I found out he was planning a surprise four-night trip to celebrate our first year anniversary. I put my note in a sealed envelope and planned to give it to him after he told me where we were going. About 2 weeks ago he disclosed another bit of info: “Technically, we don’t need our passports for where we are going, but it would be helpful.” I knew he wasn’t trying to feed me bogus information because it all made sense with other things that he had said recently. At that point, I threw my New York guess out the window and wrote another note which I then sealed for later viewing:

"Dear Mr. Mingle,
Thank you for taking me on an amazing trip to Mexico."

It was also after this conversation that I tried to weasel a little more info out of him – you see, it was very important for me to know whether or not I needed to go shopping for “cute" clothes. i.e. Were we headed to the tropics or Canada? He confirmed that it might be nice to buy some “cute clothes” so I promptly went out shopping, which led to my whirlwind day last Monday.

At this time I would also like to point out that one day, when Mr. Mingle was rushing off to work on a Saturday morning, he said, “Listen, I accidentally left some anniversary trip info on my dresser – please don’t look.” Normally, I would not rifle through the stuff on his dresser, but now that I knew something was there…it was ooh..soo… tempting. However, except for using my secret x-ray vision to try to look through the pile on the dresser without actually touching it – I did not look. I WAS HOME ALL FRIGGIN’ DAY WALKING BY HIS DRESSER BUT I DID NOT LOOK. Not that it was torture or anything.


This past Saturday was the big revealing of our anniversary trip. He made dinner reservations at the restaurant where we got engaged and told me that we are going to…

drum roll please…

Cabo San Lucas!

We are leaving on Thursday and I can’t wait! My Mexico guess was accurate, however considering I’ve never been anywhere other then Ensenada Mexico, anything was still going to be a surprise. Now that I know where we are going, I am even more excited and wish we could leave NOW. However, my shopping is not yet complete…I still need to buy a swimsuit and sunglasses. After all, what more will I need in Cabo??

Mingle the Sexpot

I went to my last Improv class on Tuesday and we did an activity where our classmates had to choose the characters they wanted to see other people perform. A piece of paper was passed around with my name on it and my classmates had to write down what character they wanted to see me portray on stage. I do not know why they chose the characters that they did, nor did I particularly care for any of them:

An aggravated yetti
A sexpot
A druggie
A waitress at a Reno casino
An overeater

After we all got our list of characters, then our teacher would pull together a scene: “I want to see the nervous cop, the other cop, the jabbering crackhead…and…who would make a good girlfriend? Ah..the sexpot.”

There were a few problems with this scene:

First of all, I’m not honestly sure what defines a ‘sexpot’, except I assumed it was someone who thought she was good looking and was trying to get some. All the time.

Secondly, I have never been a very flirtatious person anyway, and have trouble even acting this way on stage. Nevermind the fact that innocent flirting was the least of my worries in this scene.

Thirdly, I was playing the girlfriend of the “Jabbering Crackhead” who was being played by a guy named Joe, who is equally as square as I am. You should have seen us trying to light up imaginary crackpipes…I’m sorry, what? Let me put this to you in a different light – the best scene I acted in over the past 10 weeks was when I was partnered with this same guy Joe, and we both played 90 year-old women. We were comfortable with those roles. We were not comfortable with these new ones.

The first time we performed this scene, I basically tried to throw myself at everyone (tried being the keyword) – the crackhead, the nervous cop, and the brave cop (who happened to be bald) as they went about trying to arrest the crackhead. The bald head worked to my benefit since I was able to rub it sexily. Ummm…more info then you wanted eh?

When we were done, the teacher wanted to see the Jabbering Crackhead jabber more with a stream of consciousness so asked us to go back up onstage and do it again. He was to jabber more, I was to be more of a sexpot. This time he just jabbered and basically everything I caught him saying, I turned into some steamy sexual innuendo, and then finally dragged him back to my ‘bedroom’. I’ve never said the things to my husband that I said on stage in front of my whole class. It was a big, BIG stretch for my acting skills, and one which I found quite embarrassing.

The only other character I had to play that night from my list above was the “Aggravated Yetti”, however, I initially confused ‘yetti’ with ‘shirpa’. No, no. One is human, one is not. So, in that scene I just grunted my way across stage as a step-sister to Chewbacca, while a guy playing a drag queen tried to pick up on me. What a class. Or should I say, I've got some class.

A Good Weekend for Me/Not for the Hubby

Saturday: I went up to the Russian River with the younger Flosses where we played a fun game of golf, never mind the fact that two of us are really bad golfers. The weather was perfect, the course was surrounded by huge Sequioas, I never lost my ball, (which is quite easy if you really don’t hit it very far to begin with), and we enjoyed a cocktail on the 5th Hole. That night we had a BBQ back at the Cabin and relaxed on deck while hitting a volleyball back and forth as we tried not to send it flying over the deck into the poison oak below. Later that evening Krin introduced me to a new game called SayGo! which is somewhat similar to scrabble, only much faster, and not for points. For those of you who have played with competitive Krin before, I suggest you play a game with her where she has lost the directions. It really takes the competitive edge out of a game if you don’t know how to score it – and yet, it’s still fun!

Mr. Mingle on the other hand was left at home because he had to work, and then he went to a movie and a dinner that evening.

Sunday: Woke up relatively early to go boating at Lake Berryessa. I have never seen a lake so crowded or so choppy, but we still had a great time boating around. The weather was a little chilly, but if we were stopped it was warm enough in the sunshine to lay out and get a little tan. (Or a little splotchy in my case since I didn’t apply the sunblock evenly). The Big Floss went for a short wakeboard when we found a patch of semi-smooth water, but it didn’t last too long once the waves started up again. We amused ourselves by watching Krin and Zach swim the new dog – mini dachshund, Roxy – ashore so she could take a dump. (Roxy, not Krin) And cheered loudly when the mission was successful. (It’s the little things in life that make us happy). Later in the day we boated over to a bridge where there were tons of boats hanging out. It looked like Spring Break at Lake Havasu. If any of you are not familiar with “lake people”, they are a very, very special breed. As Big Floss said, we could have stayed and people-watched all day long. One boat in particular stuck out because the boat was called “Pimp Nasty”, and a bunch of skinheads were yelling out “White Power” and “Hey Mother$#%@” every time they passed. We stayed long enough to see what was going on, to see that it wasn’t our type of crowd, and then boated back to the ramp to go home for the day.

Mr. Mingle on the other hand was at home working again, and also feeling sick. He drove up to meet us at the Russian River cabin Sunday night but by the time he got there was so sick with food poisoning that it wasn’t a fun visit for him.

Monday: Mr. Mingle and I had originally planned to go to a winery and then stop by my dad’s for lunch. Then, we were going to go shopping after that. However, since he was still feeling really sick, we skipped the winery, stopped by my dad’s quickly to pick up some things and then went straight home. Both of us ended up taking a nap, but I woke up about 3 hours earlier then he did and decided that I needed to go shopping. We are going on vacation in a few weeks and I need some new summer clothes – you know how it is. I went to a mall nearby in Emeryville and, after a gluttonous dessert treat, decided to check out the GAP. It was one of those rare days where everything that was on sale, actually fit! I ended up leaving there with two big bags of clothes (for both Mr. Mingle and I) and went home happy.

All in all, I had a really great weekend – I just wish that Mr. Mingle could have enjoyed it too.

A Poem About Yesterday

As I sit here at this hotel on Fisherman's Wharf

it is a beautiful day.

Outside.

Inside, there are no windows, just long tables and chairs.

One man speaks for hours about something I do not know.

They let us out for lunch which is nice.

Good food, sat in the sun.

But then they said, "Come back in now."

There was no caffeine to keep me awake, only water,

and the bathroom is hard to get to.

I wait for a break

and write a poem called

Mingle at the Argonaut.

This was just one of many things I amused myself with as I attended a seminar in the city about something that meant nothing to me. It was all about upgrading some application that I don't use to begin with. If I found myself dozing I would concentrate for 5 minutes at a time and write down every random quote that I could. I'll share some with you so you can share in my 'fun' of yesterday...

"eurobucket"
"A concept that we call existing on or after"
"If I double-click into Avon, I have the Johnson family and the Smith family"
"Drill into the concentration percentage"
"Basically the answer is no."
"As you know, I don't have to click refresh everytime, because you can set it to refresh at any interval you choose, but I'm going to push it."
"What does test class really mean?"
"I don't have nearly enough time to walk through the enhancements or ease of use items in the new version." (And yet he was still able to talk for hours)

Sigh....I'm happy the weekend is here.

Interview

I decided to apply for the position of Director of my old department and had an interview for this on Wednesday. I thought that I might have a good chance at this position considering I actually trained the guy who previously filled it. I thought that I could walk in to the interviews with confidence and “talk the talk”. On Tuesday I met with a friend of mine in HR who proceeded to tell me “they are considering a stronger candidate, but it might be good for you to meet with the CIO anyway, so she can hear what you have to say.” What an intro.

I met with two people the next day – the CIO for an hour in person and then her counterpart for another half hour over the phone. Mind you, I used to work with these people and know their um...habits…they are very demanding. Still though, I went to the interview with as much confidence that I could muster. That’s when they pulled out the business jargon dictionary… “What value proposition can you bring to the table?” “What advice/ideas would you provide to help us build a stronger labor model?” “Tell me an example when you have worked with a matrix management situation…” and so on… (Fortunately, I had looked up “matrix management” on google right before the interview and got that one.) For the other questions, I would put into it into context with the rest of the conversation and just hope I was going down the right track with my answer. She then asked me, “How is your success measured in your current role”, to which I instantly replied, “That’s a really good question, I have no idea.” I could tell this shocked her – ‘you should know that’, she replied. I wanted to say, I KNOW – THIS IS WHY I’M APPLYING FOR A DIFFERENT JOB. But I didn’t, and then she proceeded to ask how I thought my success should be measured in the position I was applying for. To which I made up a long winded answer, which could be summarized by the first sentence that went something like, “I would guess my success would be measured on whether or not I do a good job, and accomplish everything you need.” At the end of the day why can’t we just ask our bosses, “Are you happy with the work I’m doing?” Yes or No. But I digress…


At the end of the interview she also echoed the HR lady with the news of “we have one strong candidate we are considering” thereby implying it was not me. Seriously though, if that interview is an inkling of what I would encounter on the job – then maybe it’s for the best. And to end on a lighter note – my proudest moment of recovery was when I almost fell forward out of the chair, caught myself, continued talking and didn’t bat an eye. She on the other hand said, “oh my!” If anything, they should really hire me for my comic relief.

Things That Make Me Happy

The 'Artwork' I've recently created for our office:

My clever cat and patient husband:

The mini-rosebush I've managed to keep alive that's doubled in size and is now blooming:

The fact that my cats now get along:

Tomorrow is Friday.

Hump Day

I began writing notes for this blog while I was sitting on an airplane this morning headed to Los Angeles for the day. Just one day. My bosses told me last Friday that they wanted me in LA today for a “meeting”. I was appalled at the cost of the roundtrip to LA since it was booked for the same day, and at the last minute. I was even more appalled when I got to the airport this morning and they told me my flight wasn’t actually confirmed when I purchased it on Friday, so they proceeded to charge me today’s price which was $150 more. (I’ll be arguing that with United later). It’s on the company card, but even though it’s not my personal money, I still can’t justify the cost in my own head. This better be some meeting.

Last night was fun – I went to the Jimmy Buffet concert with the Foffs. My dad actually bought all of our tickets, but he and J had to go to Colorado so he ended up giving daughter Foff and me their tickets. The deal was the Mr. Foff had to treat us all to dinner before hand. It was the only time I’ve ever been able to tell an “authority figure”: “My dad said you better take good care of me tonight or he’s going to ‘kick your ass’”. To which Mr. Foff looked me in the eye and replied, “What would you like for an appetizer Mingle?” (Everyone knows that you just need food to make a Mingle happy.) The concert was really good, but probably would have been better in a tropical, or even a warm setting. We were all in jackets zipped up to our chins swaying to the reggae tropical beat. They had huge screens to either side of the stage where they would show a close-up of the performers as well as pan the audience. The blond girl with big boobs who was dancing in the front was on there a lot. No pictures of Mingle and Foffs dressed up in winter gear in section 202. Go figure.

This whole week is weird. I haven’t actually been to my office yet. (Not complaining at all about that!). I had a 2-day course in SF to learn some reporting application, which I found relatively simple since I spend so much time with Excel. So, I spent most of the time checking my email while the teacher would show people how to add a border, or change the color of a header. We would get out of class at 4pm so on Monday I spent the entire evening shopping. It was wonderful. Mr. Mingle was in the city at a meeting so I decided to wait until that was over and take BART home with him. I went to a café on the top floor of Virgin Records and ordered a beer from the tap. The “keg kicked” so the glass was half full of foam. The bartender then gave me a bottle of beer, but also handed me the glass of beer, which by the time I drank it was a full glass of beer. There I was sitting alone with my many shopping bags, overlooking Market St., while double-fisting two beers. It was truly grand. Not to mention they had “Men’s Pocky” which I haven’t seen since I was in Japan, so I bought that as well. (Pocky is long, thin pretzel sticks dipped in chocolate – “Men’s Pocky uses dark chocolate instead of milk.)

So, there’s my week so far – I’m back in the office tomorrow, but then work from our Dublin office on Friday. I love being secluded out there away from the rest of my department. All in all, I’d say it’s a pretty good week.

Give a Cat a Hug

Mr. Mingle’s sister stayed with us this past weekend, and when I brought her home on Friday I introduced her to the cats...”this is Mini and this is Zimby”. She replied “oh yeah, I remember Zimby – she and I bonded the last time I was here.”

This is the cat that rarely lets anyone aside from Mr. Mingle and I get close to her, and even then it’s on her own terms. She will cuddle with me when I’m in bed, and whenever either of us is on the computer, that is her “love-fest time” where she wants as much attention as possible and then proceeds to drool all over the keyboard. But any other time you want to pet her or give her some love, it’s hit or miss whether she wants it.

So, when sis-in-law said those two words in a sentence: “bonded” and “Zimby”, I scoffed internally, and thought, yeah…right. She then proceeded to pick Zimby up and I was quick to say, “ooh….she doesn’t really liked to be picked up much…”, and Mr. Mingle was behind me echoing..”yeah, and when she does, she only likes to be held a specific way…” When to our utter shock we looked at the cat, and realized that she had turned to absolute putty in her arms. It was a sight I have never seen before – and she wasn’t even holding her “right”! I truly wish I had taken a picture because it was amazing. The cat was practically straddling her arm and she wasn’t struggling at all – she looked…happy.

The other reason I wish I had taken a picture is because Mr. Mingle and I cannot figure out how she was holding the cat. We’ve tried now a few times to re-create the putty-cat, but instead we get struggling-angry-cat. But we’ll continue to try…if for no other reason then because its fun to torture her a little bit.

Six Frustrations

1 – The number of Casio keyboards stolen from my car
2 – The number of locks broken on my old car
3 – The number of windows broken on my cars
4 – The number of times Honda Betty was broken into
5 – The number of times I’ve had to pay to fix damage to cars broken into
6 – The number of times my car has been broken into

It’s true. I’ve waited a whole week to write this…I’ve been trying to let it go. But last Wednesday my car was broken into again. I was parked in the financial district of SF where they smashed my passenger side window, stole my CDs, half of a book on tape from the library, and a bag which had some of my favorite pants and shoes, and Jimmy Buffet concert tickets that my dad had given to me that day. Fortunately – the tickets, the most expensive item stolen, can be easily replaced. However, pants, shoes and some personal CDs cannot be. Neither can my frustration be assuaged as to why this continues to happen.

Ironically, I have married a man who has even worse luck with cars then I do. However this makes me feel neither better nor worse. Truthfully, at this point, it’s just bitterly humorous.

The New Global Dialing Plan

Everyday we receive multiple emails from our IT department informing us of changes – but half the time I don’t understand them. Usually they are about server upgrades, system outages, and have a string of acronyms to further confuse the reader. However, the one below is about the phone system – something I get - yet they still manage to confuse me. Here’s portions of the original, and below is my interpretation (also based on previous experience with our current phone system).

"The IT Communications Infrastructure Team has scheduled a series of upgrades to our existing phone system to begin implementing a Global Dial Plan. When the Global Dial Plan is fully implemented it will allow for 7-digit dialing between major campus sites worldwide.
…

When your site is converted to the 7-digit plan all phone extensions will have a "11" added to the beginning of the existing extension.

This will not impact any external calls and you will still be able to use the current 5-digit extensions for calls between the following sites:

San Mateo / Dublin (CA)
Ft Lauderdale
Rancho Cordova
St Petersburg
…

My Interpretation
When dialing Rancho you need to dial 5 digits, but when calling Canada you need to dial 7-digits (if you can guess what they are). This will not have any impact on your site except for the fact that sometimes you have to dial 5-digits, and sometimes 7. But there will also be times when you need to dial 12 (don't forget the 9) and even more if you dial someone's cell phone in another country. Cell phones will not be affected by the new dial plan. They will still only work sporadically. But you can try dialing 7-digits. If you cannot reach someone in the US, try dialing 11 before their old extension, but please be sure not to dial 11 after a 9. If you would like to reach 911 please dial 9911, and if this doesn't work, try dialing 119911, and if that doesn't work, please add one more digit, so that you are dialing 7-digits. Don't call us, we'll call you, and don't even try to contact our office in New York.

Mingle iPod Meme

Inspired by Yay Toast , I decided to test the skills of my iPod in answering some questions about life. As Sactownkid explained, "you shuffle the songs in your iPod and use the resulting songs to answer the following questions, in the order in which they appeared". I found my iPod to be a little insightful, a little stubborn, and it also had a sense of humor. All things that are very important in any electronic gadget. However, one question it did not answer for me was this, "What is a meme??".

How does the world see you?
"Police and Thieves" Junior Murvin
(Hmm...does this mean that people have caught on?)

Will I have a happy life?
"Ice Cream" Lou Bega
(It always comes down to food)

What do my friends really think of me?
"Silent Sea" KT Tunstall
(Surprising - and here I thought I was one of the louder ones)

Do people secretly lust after me?
"Drive In, Drive Out" Dave Matthews Band
(Um..as in...pass right by?)

How can I make myself happy?
"Track 14", Unnamed
(Very funny iPod meme. It was a latin jazz tune - are you suggesting I join a mariachi band?)

What should I do with my life?
"Heal Over" KT Tunstall
(Deep - I need some time to contemplate this one)

Will I ever have children?
"Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me)" Steve Harley
(Is that a yes?)

What is some good advice for me?
"Track 6" Unnamed
(Just give me some advice!!!)

How will I be remembered?
"Tempted" Squeeze
(By what?)

What is my signature dancing song?
"Right Place, Wrong Time" The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
(Can anyone say Running Man?)

What do I think my current theme song is?
"Let You Down" DMB
(And now, we take a turn towards depressing)

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
"Gin and Juice", The Gourds
(Is this why I've "Let You Down"?)

What song will play at my funeral?
"The Sound of Silence" Simon and Garfunkel
(Enough said.)

What type of men do you like?
"I'm Only Thinking of Him," Man of La Mancha
(Mr. Mingle. Too sweet)

What is my day going to be like?
"Independent Women" Destiny's Child
(This is so very true when the hubby is working on the weekends!)

Dancing Torture Flashback

A quote from Mom I'm not used to hearing:

"I really liked that email you wrote about pole dancing."

She told me this yesterday. I wrote the "pole-dancing email" in June 2003. Curious what I had written back then, I used my "valuable" time at work to search through old folders and found the original email, titled - "Torture". Here it is for your enjoyment:


Hello! I told a few of you about the audition callback...so let me tell you about the torture I experienced...
Well...I went to the dance audition last night... and it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life! Here's the story....
I was called back for a role as a courtesan in "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum", and I didn't know anything about it before the audition. Basically, they're members of a harem and are supposed to seduce the main character...so the first thing they said to us is..."The point of this audition is to show us how sexy you can be.." oh shit, I thought, that is soo not me..in fact that's about as far away as you can get when it comes to my dance style ... (I thought I was going to be "silly dancing"...not pole dancing!!) I was so mortified...
I was the oldest, tallest girl there and also had the least amount (no amount) of dance experience. They taught us a dance, which I never quite got because they went too fast and I just didn't get it, not to mention I'm not flexible...and basically screwed up when I had to perform. I felt like a beached whale. Had you been there, you truly would have laughed your ass off. I now have 3 bruises from last night's experience...one on each knee and midway up my back - can you imagine what type of dancing we were doing??
Once we all performed we had to line up on stage so they could just check us out because they were looking for a specific look and body type for different roles (and in my head I'm screaming.."Get me out of here!!") They also asked us 2 questions...."Does anyone have a problem dancing in 3-inch heels?" (Silence..silence...) "Does anyone having a problem being practically naked?" (Silence...silence) Finally, I shouted out.."um..I might have a problem with 3 inch heels" (If I can't walk in them...I doubt I can dance in them...) They said, "Well, how about 2-inch?" At this point I know they aren't going to call me back anyway, so I respond "yes, that would be fine" (Like I have a clue) They then asked me how tall I was, so I stood up straight and said 5'11'' and they said 2-inch heels would be fine. (Like it matters) And I just let the "naked" question go by, but had a clear image of me dancing half naked on stage with my friends and family sitting in the audience trying to hold back their laughter..or in my parents case, covering their eyes...
Once they were done checking us out, and taking notes they let us go. I could not get out of there fast enough and never looked back! And that...is my first callback experience... kill me..kill me now.

(Needless to say -- I didn't get that role)

Inspired by Open Letters on McSweeneys.net

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE PERSON OR PERSONS WHO KEEP STEALING AND VANDALIZING MY HUSBAND’S ’94 SATURN:


Dear Vandalizing Thief,

Enough is enough. What is it about my husband’s 1994 Saturn that is so intriguing to you? You and I both know that it’s a piece of crap and yet you continually pass by the BMWs, Mercedes, Toyotas and Hondas (which I’m told are just as easy to steal) until you see the Saturn. Is it the grainy gold color from years of not washing, or the droopy ceiling liner that attracts you? I wish you could at least have some heart to steal a car that is fully insured for theft. Why do you think a person drives a car like this? Five words: Full time student. No Money.

Thanks for parking it near the house where you tossed his insurance papers the first time you stole it. We were fortunate to see it when we drove to that neighborhood to pick up the paperwork. You may have stolen everything out of the car, and stripped the license plates, but the word “Bitch” that was scratched into the paint from the first time it was vandalized was a pretty clear indication that it was my husband’s car. Not to mention the donut tire that was still on the car from when he had a flat tire a few days before. That spare tire must have given you a real rough ride when you ground his clutch out. And to this day, I can’t imagine how you managed to blow the speakers in the one day you had the car. Was it from blasting the cassette tape of E.B. White poetry that my husband had, or from blasting his NPR stations that were pre-programmed into the radio? Just kidding, I know it was music from your favorite stations which you took the time to program in. Thanks for sharing.

After that, were you angry we found the car and took it back? A nasty note on the windshield would have sufficed instead of smashing his windows on multiple occasions to steal the contents of his car. I’m sure you realized by now that the only thing he regularly leaves in his car are his gym bags. How many gym bags does one person need anyway? Don’t his dirty gym clothes gross you out? Because I must tell you, he can be one sweaty guy. Fortunately for you, you must wear the same shoe size, but wouldn’t you rather get new shoes? He has already run an average of 300 miles in those shoes by the time you steal them. But don’t worry about the thing on the bottom of his foot that he’s been suffering from. It’s not contagious. Anymore.

The second time you stole the car, did you have to leave it parked in San Francisco? I had made sure it was fully insured this time, and was so excited that I might never see that car again. We could have taken the insurance money to buy another car that is harder to steal. Like a tank.

But no, you left it where the police could find it. Unfortunately they failed to tell us for a couple of days, so by the time we picked it up from the impound lot, it cost us over $300 for them to release it to us. (But thanks for pinning the droopy ceiling liner up with his Trader Joe’s nametag - that was a stroke of genius.)

It’s been awhile since anything has happened to his Saturn, but I wanted you to know that if you are thinking of vandalizing or stealing the car again, please do. I would like to buy a new car now, but I’m afraid no one will ever buy his old car. So, take it, dismantle it, drive it into the bay, burn it…do whatever you must do, just make sure that it will never ever be found again. I’ll even throw in a couple of gym bags full of sweaty clothes and running shoes to sweeten the deal.

Sincerely Yours,
Mrs. Mingle

Stages of Hunger

As you all know, and have teased me about for years, I can get grumpy when I’m hungry. (Other words used at times also include Ornery, Pissy, and “Mean”.) However, I have also always outwardly joked about this, and perhaps blown it out of proportion because it’s just easier. I would also like to point out that most people I have known act differently when they are hungry, whether that be irritated, grumpy, spacey, or tired, but they just don’t admit it, or maybe even notice it themselves. Everyone is affected by hunger, but it takes certain people longer to get hungrier then others so you may not see it as often. Me, however, I get hungry every few hours – so perhaps it’s more apparent.

There is another stage to my hunger, which perhaps you may not be aware of, and that is blindness. The first time I experienced this was when I was in the eighth grade. I specifically remember being in Jazz Band when all of a sudden I couldn’t see a quarter of the music, which quickly was reduced to half of the music and then all of it was swimming around in front of me. My vision does not go black, but everything just starts to blur and I see a lot of spots. That day I went to the nurse’s office because I was very scared that I was in fact going blind and mom came to pick me up. Afterwards we went to my grandma’s house where I’m sure she fed me a good meal, and after a short time I was back to normal. (No comment from the peanut gallery on what “normal” implies here.)

At the time I did not associate that problem with lack of food, but since then it has happened on several other occasions, and I figured out that it was because my blood sugar was too low. As long as I can see enough to grab a bite to eat, I am fine in a about a half hour.

I bring this up because it happened again today. I was in a meeting with my boss, and as it was winding down, I realized the blurred vision was coming on. I hadn’t even realized I was hungry yet, but I’ve learned not to argue when I start having trouble focusing. I quickly ate something and called a friend to chat while my system normalized again. My friend mentioned that perhaps I should tell others so they really understand why I need to eat when I do – so that’s what I’m doing.

If you have traveled with me you have heard me say, “I need to eat when I’m hungry, otherwise I get ornery.” Yes – that is partially true, but honestly, it’s just easier for me to explain. Today I tried being honest with my boss as she continued chatting with me at the end of the meeting. I said, “I need to eat something right now because I’m having trouble seeing.” She gave me a look that said, “You’re a nutcase.” I’m not sure what’s worse, begin considered “mean” or a “nutcase”, but there is one thing for sure – when a girl’s got to eat, a girl’s got to eat.

This Week

Saturday: Sunday:
Thursday:

Put a Sock In It

Last night I started a new class: Improvisation (for acting, not music). It meets once a week for 10 weeks, and if I get over the nervous-I-feel-stupid factor, I think it could be a lot of fun. I’ve taken one improv class before at a community center, but my friend was the teacher, so it was a lot less intimidating. This new class is at a real actor’s school where Mr. Mingle has been taking classes, and I feel much more out of my element. I went to my first class last night with one goal: do not make a fool of myself. Unless it’s on purpose – that is okay.

It started out well when we had to first introduce ourselves. We had to say our names and then tell something interesting about our name. I told the Mingle Ingle story, so I got a good laugh, which made me relax. The class continued without a hitch, and then half way through we took a break. As I was leaving the classroom I put on a fleece jacket that I had brought and heard someone call out, “you dropped something!” I turned around to see this woman leaning over to pick up the item I had dropped when we both realized at the same time, that it was a sock. She unfortunately had already committed to picking it up for me so she gingerly grabbed it by its corners, as I nervously said, “oh..ha ha…you’ve found my laundry!” as I quickly snapped it from her. It was clean, but I know the poor girl wasn’t sure.

Obviously this sock was somehow attached to my fleece jacket, whether the pocket or the back, but I have no idea where it was when I walked from my car to the school… I did however have the impression that people were looking at me funny as I walked down the street, and now, I think I know why.

Mad for March

I don’t follow college basketball at all during the regular season, except for the brief updates that I hear on the radio for the local college teams. But once March Madness rolls around, I am hooked. For the past 3 or 4 years I have joined a pool with coworkers from around the company. I have no idea who organizes this pool, or who participates in it either, except for the one coworker who forwards it to me year after year. The ante to join is $5, and this year the payout to the winner is $195 – not a bad turn-around! If you win…

We use Yahoo to enter our picks and it is a really slick system – once you pick your teams, it monitors everything for you. Each year I do a little research, which basically means I see if the teams won or lost their last couple of games, and how they are ranked in the bracket, league and nation. And then I guess. I guess like a monkey might choose stocks.

Each year, I seem to run the same gamut of emotions, and so far this year is no different. In the first round of play, I generally do very well – of course, I just realized that so does everyone else if you stick with the higher seeds, and then go for a couple of upsets. I did well again this year, and was happy to see my selection for the final four still there.

And then the second round started…and so did the upsets. Bye bye Tennessee, bye bye Ohio, bye bye North Carolina. The last one hurt the most because I had them losing the final game of the tournament. This was compounded by the fact that the radio broadcaster I was listening to at the beginning of the George Mason – North Carolina Game said, “There is no way NC is going to lose this one. In fact I would bet everything that they will win by at least 10.” It was right about then I realized that he jinxed it, and my team was doomed. (On a similar but lighter note – earlier in the day one of the broadcasters commented on the Bradley vs. Pittsburgh St. game and said, “Did anyone notice that the teams’ short names on the scoreboard were Brad Pitt?”)

The slick Yahoo system also has scenario generators so that I can see that I still have a chance to win – if all of the rest of my picks go exactly as planned. I certainly won’t count my chickens, and I know that I most likely will not win, because I never do, but I’ll continue to be excited through the next round of play – and then we’ll see what happens. Poor Mr. Mingle – he’s not interested in this like I am, and I realize that the first thing I say when I walk in the door on game days is a litany of game highlights and scores. At least it’s just one month. Heaven forbid if I liked professional basketball!

My Day Ends Well

I was just about to logoff for the day when my coworker sent me this Instant Message:

Coworker: Hi [Mrs. Mingle]
Mingle: Hi!
Coworker: I want to tell you that I met with [your old boss today] today.
Mingle: [laughing emoticon]
Coworker: He says you are the best employee he's ever hired.
Mingle: [blushing emoticon]
Coworker: Thought you may want to know that.
Mingle: really? that's nice!
Coworker: Yeah.
Coworker: You must be really good.
Mingle: I appreciate you telling me that - thank you

It's nice to end the week on a high note.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Just Another Day

8:00 - 9:00

Checked emails; IM'd Pop to send photos via email - explained "soft copy"
9:00 - 10:00

Went to an "important" meeting
10:00 - 10:30

Met with Boss and Big Boss to talk about stuff - agreed to set up additional meetings to continue to talk about stuff
10:30 - 11:00

Went to Starbucks for free coffee and called Mr. Mingle to tell him about free coffee
11:00 - 11:45

Checked email; blogs; sent cute picture to Mom
11:45 - 1:00

Lunch with friend
1:00 - 2:00

Checked email and to-do list. Made some notes to follow-up on to-do list.
2:00 - 3:30

Researched and and selected picks for March Madness tourney; talked to Floss about crazy small man
3:30 - 4:00

Thought about writing in blog, but have nothing to say
4:00 - 5:00

Read and made notes on document not related to work; went to ATM; contemplated meetings for the next day; posted blog.

Note: All the bosses of the department are in a 2 and 1/2 day meeting beginning at 12:00 today.

Living with a Blind Man

Last Wednesday Mr. Mingle had eye surgery to correct his vision. He couldn’t get the more popular Lasex surgery “because his corneas are too thin”, so he had to get a less well-known surgery – PRK. I’ll save you from the details of what that means, but basically when all is said and done it meant a lot of pain for a few days, and a longer recovery time.

For the first couple of days, he couldn’t read, watch TV, use the computer, drive or exercise. So, that left sleeping, which he did like a champ. I really felt for him when his forehead would crinkle up in pain above the massive black glasses he was wearing.

For the next couple of days, he couldn’t read, see TV very well, use the computer very long, drive or exercise. So, that left sleeping and watching TV or using the computer for a short time until his eyes hurt. Oh, and playing with the cat. Fortunately, he could continue to play with Mini, who refuses to give Mr. Mingle a moment’s rest from “the bird”. Now, I started to feel bad because not only did his eyes hurt sometimes, but when they didn’t, then boredom would start up.

Over the weekend we watched the series Arrested Development, which we have on DVD (very, very funny by the way), which I think to him was like watching blobs with voices. If I felt there was some visual detail that he needed to know, then I’d vocalize it – “ha ha ha, you should see their facial expressions!” (So very helpful isn’t it?) We also went for a long walk and he closed his eyes the whole way home so I could guide him home like a true blind man. He only tripped once. He was able to clean and do basic stuff around the house, although I continued to do most of the cooking. I came home on Sunday to him looking sheepish in the kitchen – “I just broke something”, he said. The poor guy – he couldn’t see this clear dish that was already in the cabinet when he tried to put a salad bowl in the same place. (The clear dish lost.)

Yesterday he had a follow-up appointment that was positive because the Doctor said his eyes look on track to heal fine, but he still was not given the okay to drive. And his vision is still too bad to read a book. But he can use the computer, if the font size is set bigger, and of course, he couldn’t wait any longer, and went for a run yesterday.

I think this surgery had been a good test for the both of us. We are so used to being on the move, and doing things, and go, go, go…but when everything must stop – what does one do??

I have to admit though – I have taken advantage of this surgery in one small aspect… Mr. Mingle loves to read before he goes to sleep, but since he can’t right now I decided to read to him. And since he’s my captive audience – I get to choose the reading materials. Every night Mr. Mingle now goes to sleep after hearing me read from my stories of Japan. What can I say? It’s nice to have an audience.

Mingle Movie Review

With the Oscars coming, and sudden free time on our hands, Mr. Mingle and I have made it our mission to see every best picture nominated, as well as most of the movies with people nominated for Best/Supporting Actor/Actress. In fact, we have gotten so excited over the Oscars this year, that we are making a special trip out to Colorado this weekend to watch the show with R&J. (The artichoke dip alone is worth the trip, not to mention the company.) I even attempted to try to get all of the people in my department to join an Oscar pool. It was my attempt to bring a little social levity to the workplace. (Our department is so dysfunctional – I discovered people in other offices that I didn’t even know reported to the same boss.)

Now, I don’t claim to be a movie aficionado, in fact I think you’ll find by my reviews below, that well, descriptive words are not my forte. However, I must say, that I have really wanted to watch all of the movies we’ve seen over the past 2 months – it wasn’t just a case of going because I had to. You have to understand - when we first started dating – Mr. Mingle and I couldn’t have been further apart in our movie tastes. The blockbusters, and romantic comedies that I love, were nothing like the dark Indy movies that he loves. Going to the movies together was a challenge because one of us would have to sometimes go half-heartedly to the other’s choice of film. But I digress…

The Official 2006 Mingle Movie Review

Crash: Enjoyable Film, but not Best Picture worthy in my opinion. It seemed too cleverly packaged. Sure, they were making a point about race, but did they really have to throw (and try to debunk) every single stereotype in 2 hours?

Munich: Good until the last 20 minutes, and then it plummeted. It was as if they realized, “Shit! This is too long – we have to end this thing! Oh, but wait – we still have to slam our message down their throats! Ta –Da!”

Capote: Great Movie – it makes me want to read In Cold Blood, kind of. He was one strange guy, (excellently acted by Phillip Seymour Hoffman), and I had no idea the author of To Kill a Mockingbird was one of his great friends. The most interesting part of this movie to me was the fact that Mr. Mingle and I left the theater with opposite impressions of Capote.

Good Night, Good Luck: Interesting Movie – Although, I expected more from the story – I didn’t realize the whole movie was about a few broadcasts. Although excellently acted and directed, I didn’t feel like all the characters were fleshed out. Can someone tell me why Patricia Clark and Robert Downey Jr’s characters were even in the movie? JP – I know you loved this one – please enlighten me!

Brokeback Mountain: I agree with Burns here, Excellent!

Transamerica: Storyline was interesting but a little blah. The best part of the movie was one moment when I actually felt that Felicity Huffman was a man (becoming a woman) – her acting was impressive.

North Country: This one required the most tissues – cry, cry, cry. Pretty good, but no Erin Brokavich.

Walk The Line: Just seen on Wednesday (now out on video), this is one of my favorites of all. Great acting (pretty people), and call me a sucker for the music. But seriously – it was a great movie!

Constant Gardener: Interesting plot – I enjoyed the originality of it. (But I have no desire to go to Africa.) Well acted, but I’m not sure why Rachel Wiez was nominated. I’m sure her acting was excellent – I did not feel “wowed”.

Syriana: One of my favorites – I loved how the plot slowly came together and it was an interesting view of the oil industry from many sides. I didn’t even understand the plot entirely, but I enjoyed it so much that I would see it again to figure out what I missed the first time.

Hustle and Flow: This one surprised me - I really, really enjoyed it! Had some trouble with the accent...not always sure what was said...but Terrence Howard was great!! And again...sucker for a little music. "It's Hard Out Here for Pimp..."

Seen months ago with Burns:
A History of Violence: Mingle’s pick for most disturbing of the year. I …did…not…like…this. (And yet Mr. Mingle has put it on our Netflix list – do you see how our tastes differ??)

My Four Things

I haven’t been "tagged", and I’m a little behind the curve when it comes to the topic “Favorite Four Things” but dammit – I love writing lists!! (Inspired by Yay Toast! and Anybody Want a Peanut?)

Four jobs I've had:

1. Project Manager
2. English Teacher (in Japan)
3. Bus Conductor
4. Receptionist at Athletic Club

Four movies I can watch over and over:

This is the category that kept me from making the “Four Things” list at first, because I don’t generally like watching movies over and over again. However…there are a few exceptions:
1. Speed
2. When Harry Met Sally
3. Clueless
4. Chicago

Four places I have lived:

1. Clayton, CA
2. Davis, CA
3. Bethesda, MD
4. Osaka, Japan

Four TV shows I love:

1. Lost
2. Desparate Housewives
3. Prison Break
4. Friends

Four places I've vacationed:

1. Hawaii
2. UK (England/Scotland/Wales)
3. Houseboat on Trinity Lake, CA
4. Vietnam

Four of my favorite dishes:

1. Pizza from Zachary’s in Oakland
2. Paprika Prawns made by Mr. Mingle
3. “Peanut Butter Porkchops” (A Mingle original)
4. Favorite Pasta: Scallops and Shitake Mushrooms on Angel Hair

Four sites I (sometimes) visit daily:

1. Dooce
2. Yah Toast! (Which then links to many other friend sites)
3. Stuff on My Cat
4. Company Intranet (blah)

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. At home with Mr. Mingle and cats
2. In Portland
3. Having a beer at 21st Amendment in SF
4. Hanging out by the fireplace in a cabin in the snow

Four people I am tagging:

1. California Swiss Miss
2. Junkyard Princess
3. Flossie Fossie
4. Any other list-lover out there

An Earful at the Dentist Office

On Thursday I read Karin’s Chronicles and she mentioned that she had recently visited the dentist where she was assisted by a wacky hygienist. I had a dentist appointment later that same afternoon and became nervous when I realized that I go to the same dentist office as Karin.

Now, I have never enjoyed going to the dentist – I hate it when they stick pointy tools in my mouth and then ask me, “have you been flossing?” But on Thursday, the one saving grace of going was that I was looking forward to lying down in the dentist chair and closing my eyes while I had my teeth cleaned. I had been tired all day, and thought I could use that time to rest. But alas, it was not to be…

Sure enough, when I arrived, I discovered that I had the exact same wacky hygienist that Karin had a week earlier. She talked endlessly. Of course, she immediately asked me if I floss everyday, and since I can’t tell a lie, I said, “no”. So, she then asked on average, how many times a week, to which I responded “two” (as of the last two weeks – so I guess I can lie a little...). From then on, she told me why I need to floss, how to floss, when to floss during the day, how to brush, the importance of brushing and on and on and on…. I do need to caveat this by saying that I had perfect bill of health for my teeth and gums – however she still felt the need to impart all of her 34 years of hygienist-knowledge on me, as if it was the first time I’d ever been to the dentist in my life. She also talked about herself too…and occasionally would ask me questions, ultimately ending in “right?” To which I had to respond “garh” since she had tools in my mouth. But, I had to respond – or else she’d continue to ask me again and again.

Here are some of the things she told me that day:

“Not flossing may lead to heart disease. Scientists are now trying to tie back how plaque build-up, which is bacteria, eventually leads to other diseases.”

“When I was 6, my dentist slapped me across the face to get me to open my mouth up. (I won’t do that to you har, har)”

“You have to brush in short quick strokes, for 3 to 4 minutes, because you don’t want to tear your gums up”

“20 years ago I almost knocked myself out cold when I ran headfirst into the old cast-iron x-ray machines they used to have. Did you know you can really see stars and birds floating around when that happens?”

“I’ve never been married, I just haven’t found the person that I want to be with”

“Did you know some people will just spit out blood, and not think anything of it – but if they saw that blood coming from an arm or leg, they would be much more concerned? It’s important to keep your gums healthy.”

“I started in my twenties, now I’m in my fifties, I’ve been a hygienist for 34 years.”

“If you don’t keep your gums healthy….”

And so it went. I never did get my rest in the dentist chair as I couldn’t wait to get out of there. My teeth and gums were fine, and fortunately for all the talking she did, at least she did a good job cleaning my teeth, but has anyone seen my floss?

Fun for Some

A book arrived for our department today titled, "The Visual Display of Quantitative Information". I opened it up and thought "dry, dry, dry" and quickly plopped it into the hands of my eagerly awaiting boss. Later I found myself with time to kill so I blandly asked, "can I look at the new book?" To which my boss replied, "Yes, but bring it back, I'm going to take it home and read it - it is fascinating!!" - with no hint of sarcasm whatsoever.

It's nice that we can all appreciate different things, isn't it?

A Big Day for the Mingles

When it comes to getting something new, Mr. Mingle and I take a long time to commit to a decision. We talked about getting a kitten (for Zimby of course) for two years, before we found Mini. During those two years, we looked at many kittens at the SPCA and other cat shelter groups, but just…couldn’t…quite…decide. Yet on the day we rode our bikes to a friend’s July 4th party last summer, and realized he was giving away two kittens, that’s when we got Mini. (And actually thought we could ride home with her in my backpack – but that’s another story).

We have been talking about getting a car now for at least 6 months, and although we are narrowing down the search, don’t expect news of a new vehicle any time soon. However, partially that’s due to the fact that we hate taking the time to actually car-shop. Oh, and what? It costs money? Huh….

Don’t even get me started on the apartment, which we’ve talked about moving out of for over a year. In this case we are waiting for our future situation to become clear so we move to a place that makes sense – as opposed to moving to a town that increases the commute.

Since we can’t move yet, we have talked about fixing up our apartment, AKA buying new furniture. We’ve looked at sofas here and there over the past year, but never too seriously. So, when we went to Macy’s yesterday to buy pillows, we thought we’d check out the furniture section while we were there. Taking into account the fact that we move as slow as molasses when purchasing anything, imagine our surprise when 15 minutes later we found a sofa set we loved, looked at each other, and said “should we? Should we really??” and purchased it.

Yep! Mr. Mingle and I are the new owners of a matching sofa, chair and ottoman. Well, we will be, once it’s delivered next month. I think this is the first major piece of furniture that I’ve bought that was neither purchased at a discount store, nor owned previously by a relative. And, shockingly, it is not putty-colored or neutral. It is “Merlot”. Go Big! Go Bold! Or something like that…

Needless to say, I am very, very excited to get our new furniture. When it arrives, I will sit down with my feet up and a glass of red wine in hand (since it’s the same color as the couch), and pray that Mini-who-hates-to-be-put-in-a-backpack doesn’t shred it to pieces.

The Things We Do

Sometimes I question my own sanity.

This morning the alarm went off at 5:30am, which is a little early for me, because I had to be at the gym for my Boot Camp at 7:00am. (The hour and half gives me some extra snooze time and includes a 40-minute commute.) When the alarm went off the first time, Zimby, the older cat was curled up against me and I was hugging her with my left arm. Mini, the younger, was between my legs, and Mr. Mingle was on the other side. So, basically, I was totally pinned. This doesn’t bother me since I rarely move in my sleep anyway, and I love to be snuggly warm. There I was - snuggly, sleepy, and happy when the alarm rang.

After the third snooze alarm, I finally forced my way out of my bed-cat cave and got ready for the pain ahead. Seriously, after an hour of torture from the trainer, I found myself thinking, “whatever possessed me to leave the bed in the first place??” Is it willpower, or just plain craziness? I’ll tell you – craziness.

I am now the only person attending the boot camp, and the trainer is kicking my ass. Don’t get me wrong - I like her, and afterall, I am paying for this torture – by why I continue to do this to myself, I have no idea. I was dead tired after 45 minutes, and made the mistake of thinking we were finished. I looked at the clock and to my horror saw that there were 15 minutes left. That’s when she had me do jumping jacks ("what's going on with your arms?"), running in place ("knees high! higher!"), push-ups ("ooh, nice one - let's do 10 more, ready? 20-19-...", and then she said (bitch) “grab the weights and follow me”. Oh Yeah, I followed her – followed her chipper-frickin ass right up 4 flights of stairs while carrying 10-pound weights in each hand. Under normal circumstances this is doable, even easy, (although why this would EVER be a normal circumstance, I can’t figure out), but after 45 minutes of hell, following the chipper trainer up the stairs was grueling. She tried to give me a hint to swing the weights in my arms as I tromped up the stairs, but I misread the cue and thought she was mocking me, “ha ha, I don’t have weights in my hands!” At the top, she took the weights from me and said, in her sing-song-I’ve-already been-awake-for-4-hours-voice, “okay, now run back down and back up again!”

She’s smart though – that trainer. We practiced boxing today with smelly gloves that she brought in, in the beginning of the session. Had it been in the end, when I was shooting darts at her from my eyes, I may have accidentally missed the hand held pad, and oops – hit the face. Not just because of the sing-song torture she was showering on me today, but also the fact that I’d lost all muscle control in my arms. I’m telling you – this is insanity.

My New Role Model

Someone gave me make-up for Christmas because this particular brand is supposed to be very good for the skin, so good in fact that you don’t even have to wash it off at night. It’s nice to know someone is looking out for my skin, and my laziness. (Note – I do wash it off at night…) Anyway, this make-up is called Bare Minerals, and I can say that it seems to be working. I’m not sure that anyone can tell that I wear make-up on a daily basis, however hopefully, they also can’t see my blemishes as easily – after all, that’s really the point. Also, my skin seems to be happy with this new change and that is also a plus.

When I received the Bare Minerals kit, it came with 4 pots of powder, 3 brushes, and a “how-to” DVD. I’m not usually one to watch How-To Videos, and can honestly say I’ve never seen one about putting on make-up, but I thought, “what the heck?” and stuck it in the DVD player one day after Christmas. I sat there and watched the President (aka Senior Mucky-Muck) introduce her line of make-up and explain how it will “change your life” and then she introduced the two people who would help her show me how to apply the make-up. I was watching these two women apply their make-up and gush over how great it is when it struck me - I went to High School with one of them! When I knew her, her name was Angie (it’s Angela on the DVD), and she graduated in my class. At first I wasn’t 100% sure that it was Angie, but there were so many similarities it was hard to believe that it wasn’t her. I pulled out my yearbook, and sure enough, it was the same girl. I mean exactly the same… And, I had to admit, that was a selling point for me to try this make-up…10 years later (this was a recent video)…and this girl still looked exactly the same way she did in HS. Her skin was beautiful.

But, what was not a selling point was the fact that a few days later, when I asked Mr. Mingle what he thought of my new make-up he replied, “It looks great – you look just like Angela!” We all grow up with visions of how we want to look, or who we wish people would compare us to, but to have those models change from Angelina Jolie to Angie from High School…well, gee, my dream has come true at last…

Some Memories of Nick

I received some sad news – Nick, my step-grandfather passed away yesterday morning. He was in his nineties, and his health has been failing for awhile, so it did not come as a total shock. However, when my mom first told me, I didn’t really know how to feel. Of course I was sad, but I didn’t cry, and to be honest my mind was pretty blank. My thoughts went to Mom and Jim who spent the last 6 years taking care of him better then a parent could hope for. The years have been an adventure with Nick since he moved back to California, and he certainly left us with a lot of memories.

Later I went for a long run/walk and on my way back home my thoughts started wandering to my times with Nick. Suddenly, without warning, all emotions rushed to the surface, the two actions of crying and laughing were fighting for control of my face. You see, there is a lot to laugh about when I think of Nick, and this is certainly how I’d like to remember him.

He was a cantankerous old guy, with a heart of gold. Before I went to Japan, I had met him a handful of times – of course at Mom’s wedding to Jim, but then later when we went to Colorado to see his family and him, and another time in Danville which sticks out in my head to this day. He was driving out from Colorado, and we were expecting to see him on Sunday morning. The four of us – Mom, Jim, Stacy and I, went to a movie the Saturday of the same weekend to celebrate Stacy’s birthday. We came back to the house that night to about 10 messages on the answering machine. Every single one of them was from Nick, and he was getting angrier by the message. Apparently he had arrived into town a day early and was PISSED that we were not home. He did not know where the new house was located, so therefore didn’t know where to go and proceeded to call the answering machine and yell each time – WHERE ARE YOU? THIS IS NICK. I AM HERE. Only with each message he got considerably more belligerent and infused his message with as many swear words as possible. Fortunately he found the local pizza place, and they took pity on him – the pizza boy delivered Nick to our house that night.

Later, when I returned from Japan in 2000 is when I really got to know Nick. Both he and I were living at my Mom’s house for awhile, while I was job-hunting. Nick had moved out from Colorado and was staying with them until they found housing in a retirement apartment for him. Needless to say this was a challenging time for all of us I think – but we made it work.

Everyday Mom and Jim went to work and Nick and I were left to fend for ourselves. If I slept in later then he liked, he would make sure to get me up. I would spend the mornings job-hunting until he would come into the office and announce LUNCH. Oh, I forgot to mention – Nick was extremely hard of hearing. The week I moved in with them it was immediately apparent that I had to buy a cell phone. I would come home to Nick announcing that “SOMEONE CALLED”. “Who?”, I would ask. “I DON’T KNOW!!! SOMEONE – HE WAS YELLING AND I COULDN’T UNDERSTAND HIM!!” The fact that he said “him” was also distressing to me since I was single at the time and was horrified to think that my deaf grandfather had frightened away a potential date...and I had no idea who called. Another time, a friend of mine came over – a large Asian man – and Nick was quick to address him, “HEY DUDE!!!” I held my breath for a few minutes and was grateful no racial comments followed after that…I was never quite sure what Nick would say.

Sometimes I’d drop him off at the fairgrounds where he could bet on the horses – one of his favorite activities, and one of my favorite reprieves. We would also take turns cooking dinner for the family – his favorite meal to cook was Mulligatawny Stew. This meant that Nick would throw meat, potatoes and any vegetable he could find into a pot. No matter how it looked – it always ended up tasting pretty good.

There were two things we could count on at dinner time with Nick. 1) He would always have bread. If we did not have some form of bread available, even a slice of wheat or white, you might thing we had just given him a plate of poop to eat. 2) From the first day we lived together I was guaranteed to hear one of the following things at dinner time: A) DO YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND YET?? B) WHEN ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED? C) WHEN ARE GETTING MARRIED??? I WANT TO PARTY!!! D) YOU WILL MAKE SUCH A GOOD WIFE (This was reserved for times I had cooked). I was sad that Nick got too sick to attend my wedding last June – but I am happy that he met my husband and liked him.

A couple of years ago we were all gathered at a friends house to celebrate birthdays. There were about 12 of us sitting around the table eating when all of a sudden, Nick, who had been quiet all evening, started talking about a FAT WOMAN. You could have heard a pin drop...everyone stopped eating and talking and turned to stare at Nick with one uniform thought in our heads, “Oh dear god…where is this headed?” Finally, we realized that Nick was telling a joke, but those of us related to him shared the same look of panic as we wondered if Nick, who sometimes told some “questionable” jokes, was telling something appropriate for the dinner table. He got to the punch line, and everyone laughed as they also let out a sigh of relief. I will never remember the punch line, but I will always remember the look of relief on Jim’s face when he realized that Nick had told a clean joke, knowing that it could have so easily gone the other way…

Nick and I only lived together 3 months (he moved out first) but those three months remain stuck in my memory. During that time I got to know him better then my own grandfather, and I appreciated that bond with Nick. He did have a heart of gold, but I think his body gave out on him before his mind. He continued to see himself as a dashing ladies man (which in fact he was) and was ready to dance and party even in his late 80s. But the body said “no, please stop” and that just frustrated him, which made him even more cantankerous. That, combined with the lack of hearing, was a challenge to his family who wanted more then anything to help him, yet simultaneously wanted to strangle him at times as well.

No matter how much interaction one had with Nick, whether a little or a lot, there is no doubt that everyone will have funny memories. Considering his desire to laugh and party, I think the only fitting way to honor him is to crack open that Champagne bottle and give him a proper toast. “HERE’S TO NICK!”

Lazy Hazy Blogging Day

I’ve been called out. Manoa Missy caught the fact that the blogging has slowed down considerably and asked, “Are you busier now at work?”. Yes – it’s true… Work has picked up, blogging has slowed down. It’s not necessarily due to lack of time – it’s due to the fact that I can only seem to think of things to write about when I’m bored out of my mind. When the brain is busy at work, it stops all together at other times.

This is not helped by the fact that last weekend I had one of the most laziest weekends in um...years. It was grand – truly grand. It was a three-day weekend, and I had only one Cabaret performance on Friday night – then I was home-free (or home-bound as you’ll see). Saturday was a “difficult” day of shopping with Mom, when we started the day with lunch, did 3 hours of shopping, then ended the day with coffee and a treat. Then it was off to meet the Mister at a local brewery for dinner, before we saw “Munich” in the theater.

Wait, stop there. Two things…did I just say that I went directly from having coffee and a snack with my mom to having dinner with my husband? Why yes – yes I did! I’m sure it was at least an hour before I digested something between the two events, so I was already hungry – not to worry. Secondly – Mingle’s Movie Review of Munich: I enjoyed the first 2.5 hours, but then I feel like they blew it. It’s as if they thought – “oh shoot, this movie is getting to be really, really long, we better wrap things up!” And so they did – as quickly and not-effectively as possible. But Spielberg certainly made sure you got his message in the very last scene. You’ll have to see it to know what I mean. It’s worth a rental, but if you have to choose – see Syriana.

OK – back to the weekend. Sunday – blessed Sunday. I got up around 10:00, and wasted time doing something that I can’t remember while Mr. Mingle cooked breakfast. Then he was off to work for the day. I however, sat on the couch and read. For 3 hours. It got to the point where it really wasn’t worth getting up until I finished my book. (Title is not worth mentioning - needless to say it was an easy, mind-numbing read which I thoroughly enjoyed). I did some other non-active stuff around the house, and then at 4:00 or so decided that it would be best to change out of my robe before meeting my friend for coffee in Berkeley. That night ended with dinner at home and another movie – this time “City of God”. (Mingle Movie Review: Excellent movie but heavy topic. Based on true events in the slums outside of Rio de Janeiro)

On Monday I actually did things since Mr. Mingle and I had to run a few errands, but we still didn’t leave the house until 1:30, and I was back by 5:30. In time to do a couple of chores (to feel useful) and then sit down for the Golden Globes. My vote for best acceptance speech goes to Steve Carrell (Best Actor in a Comedy Series “Office”).

So, not only do I stop blogging because I’m no longer bored at work, but when I do blog, I talk about the most inane weekend I’ve had in a long time. I could have told you about the recent trip to LA with JP, her hubby, and the band, or about spending New Year’s in Hollywood, but really. This is lazy at it’s best.

Cats and Candles

I was speaking to my friend JP a few months ago about her new landlord who seemed a bit crazy. He has these really strict rules in the contract – for example, NO CANDLES. You see, it’s because he’s very scared of fire and is worried that the cats will knock over the candles, thus burning down the whole house. The funny part is JP didn’t even have cats, yet they still couldn’t have candles because of his fear of cats and candles. (She has since gotten two kittens – if you can’t have candles, then you may as well have cats right?) Anyway, we would laugh about this, (as I hear my high-pitch excited voice) “Ah Ha Ha..Cats and Candles, Cats and Candles…oh no, what will we do??”

But now, I take it all back…and I take it very seriously. (hee hee). On Saturday night we had some friends over so I decorated the whole house with candles, including the bedroom. (I was hoping that the gentle candle-light would mask other less inviting things about our place – like the mess).

The first guests arrive and the cats scrambled towards the bedroom. After chatting for a minute, I looked down the hall into our room to see Zimby’s tail smoking over the candle. It was literally sizzling. I think she realized she was on fire at the same time as I did, and leapt onto the bed to get away from the flame on the dresser. Fortunately it just burnt some fur, but did not reach the skin. The strange part was, it was on her tail rather close to her rear, as if she almost sat on the candle. After this, the poor cat was traumatized and never left the bed. But the smell of burning fur lingered on…

So, the moral of the story is, although you may laugh, cats and candles do not a good mix make.

Personal Bests

Today is a good day – it was my last day of Boot Camp. They had tested us in the first class to see how many push-ups we could do (53), how many sit-ups in 60 secs (30 or so) and how fast we could run a mile (over 10 minutes). Today we were tested again, and I’m proud to say that I improved! First I was able to run a mile in 9:25 – which for this non-runner girl, is an absolute record. Then I blew the other ladies in the class away by doing 63 push-ups. (Girl-style – knees on ground). And finally, the sit-ups improved marginally – I think it was around 36. But, overall it just felt so good to see a difference in just 5 short weeks.

Today is a great day – Mr. Mingle finished his last round of finals!! He will now hold a Bachelor’s Degree in Math and English (one of those fortunate souls who uses both sides of his brain). After watching him study so much and so faithfully, for the last couple of years, I’m really proud of his accomplishment. When I was in college, I never studied as hard as him – I can really tell how much he enjoys learning. He was even able to fend off my many attempts to distract him all this time. “Wanna Play? Wanna go on a hike? Wanna go to a movie? Wanna go to a party?” Or course, once in awhile I’d get him to cave, but for the most part he stuck to his guns – and kept at his work. So, Mr. Mingle, my hat goes off to you! “You Are the Wind Beneath my Wings” “We are the Champions” “Celebrate” and all that sappy stuff. I hope you will be able to take a deep breath after today, relax, and just appreciate what you have done.

I will try really hard to stave off the “Honey Do” list for a while to let you have a break. I will try. :)

look at me, LOOK AT ME

All right People, listen up! I have colored my hair Auburn. I got my hair cut. I went shopping and bought a lot of new clothes. For me! Why am I telling you this? Because, I haven’t seen you. And the people who do see me regularly have not said a single word. The new coworkers don’t notice or choose to say anything. The fellow musicians in Cabaret do not say anything. Fortunately my husband noticed and has lovingly said that it looks great. And I thought it looked great…yet when no one says a single word – I start to think…does it look that bad??

Last Tuesday, when I came to work, I had long curly hair, almost blonde at the ends due to highlights gone crazy. On Wednesday I came to work with STRAIGHT dark hair, and glossy (thank you hairdresser!), and what reaction did I get? Nothing. I chalked it up to the fact that my coworkers have not known me that long, and do not take much notice when I poke my head around the cube gopher-style. Heck, they don’t even notice that I’m in the office, let alone have different hair.

But I couldn’t handle being invisible, so the next day, I wore a brand new top, not usually intended for work, because it has pink sparkles on it. I, Mrs. Mingle–with–the-now-dark-hair, wore a PINK FLASHY shirt to work. And, not to end there, I even wore lipstick. Oh, glory be – faint now. And what reaction did I get that day? Nothing. Sigh…

It has now gotten to the point where I have emailed my boss to ask her if the new Administrative Assistant (hallelujah we can have envelopes now!) can come take the cube next to me because I’m lonely. And who knows, maybe in 3 months, when I get my hair cut again – she’ll notice.

Letter to Police

Dear Oakland Police,

I am writing to you with a complaint. My husband parks near the West Oakland BART Station so he can take advantage of public transportation and has had nothing but bad luck in that area. In the last year and a half, his car has been broken into twice, stolen twice, and as of Tuesday night he was mugged walking to his car. Fortunately, and for this I will be forever grateful, he is okay, save for a couple of bumps and a missing wallet, which can be replaced. But I do not understand how most of these things can happen in broad daylight, and only a mile from your main Oakland Police Station.

People sometimes ask why we don’t move, or why we keep parking near that station, but we’ve got ourselves a good rental situation, and it doesn’t make sense financially to move at this point. Plus, I refuse to believe that we live in a place where we should be afraid of parking or walking around. Not only afraid, but that we should expect something bad will happen. If there is a known area, where we expect bad things to happen, why is there not more police presence? There is certainly enough police presence in downtown Oakland ticketing cars.

I understand that there is a financial shortage, and that there are worse areas that you have to deal with on a daily basis, but I have some ideas for you to consider:

1)Have some of those meter maids who so aggressively ticket in downtown Oakland patrol the area around the West Oakland BART Station. They may not have a gun, but it could make a person think twice about stealing a car in broad daylight if a vehicle with the ability to radio the Oakland Police drives by.

2)Partner with BART to have a fundraiser in order to build a multi-level parking garage at the BART Station. You may have heard - beginning next week BART will begin charging $5 for their limited parking spaces as is. I’m pretty sure this will mean you will see even more people parking on the surrounding streets. If you build a lot, that is patrolled by the BART police, that is something worth paying $5 for.

3)Check out the local gyms. My husband has had four gym bags stolen – apparently there are a rash of people who want to work out. If you see a thug working out in a shirt that advertises the musical Cabaret – my guess is that it was not his shirt originally.

4)At the very least, before returning to your parking lot at the police station, just drive a few blocks west to patrol the area a little. You might be surprised by what you catch.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Wife

Mingle Tips

Tip #1
Do not wear a brand new fuzzy white sweater with a black jacket.

Tip #2
If you are going to the gym prior to going to work, do not forget to pack your bra when choosing your clothes for the next day.

Tip #3
Target sells cheap bras and lint removers, and it opens at 8am.

The Latest Play

For the third time in two years I am playing trumpet for the musical Cabaret. One would think I’ve had enough of this play, (and I have), but it just keeps getting more interesting! If one were to give ratings to musicals, the first one in Pleasanton would have been rated PG, the second one in Alameda was PG-13 (a bit more raw and raunchy), and the current one in Berkeley: Rated R.

When they asked me to play they warned me there might be some nudity in the show (no, no, not me) but wow – they weren’t kidding! To quote the first line of someone else’s personal review: “T__s. Lots of t_ts. A bevy of beautiful bouncing b__bs”. (Edited due to the fact that I was suddenly unable to open my own blog page at work. I'm not sure if it blocks pages based on "bad words"....)

Oh yes, ladies are definitely topless in this show! Fortunately someone warned me the night before I was to play because I’m not sure that I could have kept my composure (and kept playing) if I looked up to see six half-naked women. Not just topless, but topless and dancing. What a combo.

But please do not mistake my R-Rating as a bad one. Despite (or because of?) the nudity, the show is outstanding. It’s very well acted and the sets and costumes are wonderful. The only part I would change is the fact that they have stuck the trumpet player in an ugly-ass orange dress. That, is just not fair. I mean, it almost makes me wonder…would I rather be topless, or in an ugly-ass orange dress? Tough call, don’t you think?

I’m proud to be a part of this show, although it’s not something I would recommend to everyone. If you are a fan of musicals, and do not mind some seediness and raunchy behavior in your shows, then check it out. (It runs until the end of January). If the Music Man and Mary Poppins is more your cup-of-tea…then, you may want to skip this one.